The Harvester moved with a speed that mocked human limits. Its blade of light cut downward again, a streak of white that split the clearing in two. Soil boiled, trees cracked like brittle bones, and the runes on the monolith flared brighter as if feeding on the violence.
Edrin barely kept his footing. The silver dome around him pulsed weakly, its glow dimming with every strike. His chest burned as though his own ribs were the bars of a cage trying to hold back a star.
Liora darted forward, her blade flashing. Steel met light with a ringing clang that rattled the air. Sparks burst where her weapon scraped against the Harvester's sword, but her strength faltered instantly—mortal steel was not meant to clash with astral fire. She stumbled back, her arm numb.
The Harvester's mask turned toward her, expressionless, yet its lantern swayed as if in disdain. The souls within flared brightly, their shrieks echoing through the clearing. Chains rattled down from the lantern, spectral links snaking across the ground like serpents.
Edrin's heart froze.
The chains lunged.
Liora rolled aside, barely escaping as one snapped shut where she had stood, gouging a crater into the earth. Another chain whipped upward, striking a tree. The trunk blackened, then crumbled into ash.
"They're hunting bindings!" Liora shouted, scrambling to her feet. "If they touch you, it'll drag your soul straight out of your body!"
Edrin staggered backward. The dome of silver cracked, shards of light breaking away and vanishing into the air. He could feel the Harvester pulling at him—like a hook lodged deep inside his spirit, tugging, dragging. His knees buckled, his vision blurred.
No… not yet…
For an instant, he saw himself reflected in the Harvester's mask. A boy with fear in his eyes, already claimed by death. That was the fate the Council had written for him.
And he refused it.
Silver light erupted from his chest again, but this time it didn't form a shield. It coiled down his arms, threads of living starlight twining around his fingers. His pulse roared in his ears as the light solidified—shaping itself into a weapon.
A blade.
The hilt was crude, raw energy wrapped in flesh, but the edge gleamed brighter than moonlight, sharper than truth.
Liora froze mid-step, her eyes wide. "Edrin… what are you—"
The Harvester lunged before she could finish. Its lantern chains lashed forward, dozens at once, shrieking like tortured metal. Edrin raised his blade instinctively.
Silver clashed with white.
The clearing exploded with light.
Chains shattered where his sword touched them, fragments scattering like dying stars. The Harvester reeled back, lantern flickering wildly, as if startled.
Edrin's breath tore from his throat, but he did not collapse. He pressed forward, step after agonizing step. His blade trembled in his grip, yet it cut with terrifying certainty. For the first time, the Harvester's strikes faltered.
"You see?" Edrin gasped, sweat burning in his eyes. "I'm not an error. I'm not yours to take!"
The Harvester tilted its head. Its mask cracked—not fully, but a hairline fracture ran across the porcelain surface. Its voice came not as a whisper, but a roar.
"Abomination."
The lantern blazed. Chains thick as pillars thundered down, smashing the clearing into chaos. Earth split apart, the monolith shuddered, and the night itself trembled.
Liora sprinted toward Edrin, shoving him aside as a chain obliterated the ground he had stood on. She grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the tree line.
"We can't win this! Not yet!" she shouted.
Edrin's blade flickered, threatening to dissolve. His lungs screamed for air, his vision darkened at the edges. He wanted to fight. He wanted to prove himself. But his body betrayed him.
Another chain whipped toward them. Liora raised her sword, knowing it wouldn't be enough.
But the monolith pulsed.
The runes flared to blinding life, and for the first time, the Harvester hesitated. The Beacon's glow surged, its ancient stone trembling as cracks spread across its surface.
Edrin's blade flared in response. The silver light within him sang, resonating with the Beacon.
And then—
The monolith shattered.
Stone exploded outward, runes unraveling into streams of silver fire that poured across the clearing. The Beacon's phantom lantern above tore open, scattering trapped souls into the night sky like freed stars.
The Harvester recoiled, its chains writhing in panic. Its lantern screamed, sparks bursting as it struggled to contain the exodus of light. For the first time, it staggered—not in control, not invincible.
Edrin's body moved before his mind could catch up. He surged forward, silver blade raised, and slashed across the Harvester's chest.
The mask split.
A scream tore the air—inhuman, infinite. The Harvester's body collapsed inward, dissolving into ash and fragments of astral fire. Its lantern fell to the ground, shattering into shards that dissolved into silence.
And then, nothing.
The forest stilled. The glow faded.
Edrin collapsed to his knees, gasping, every muscle trembling. The silver blade dissolved into light, seeping back into his skin. His chest still burned, but the pull of the Harvester was gone.
Liora approached slowly, her sword hanging limp at her side. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You… you killed it," she whispered.
Edrin looked down at his hands, still glowing faintly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or be afraid. "No," he said quietly. "I think… I unmade it."
Above them, the freed souls drifted across the sky like a new constellation.
But even as awe settled over him, Edrin knew the truth.
The Council would feel this.
And they would come.
The Harvester's blade hummed, vibrating like a living star as it pressed against Edrin's fragile shield of silver light. Cracks spiderwebbed across the dome, each fracture burning through his veins like fire.
Liora lunged, her sword clashing against the Harvester's weapon, sparks bursting in the dark. For a heartbeat, she forced it back.
But the lantern above swelled brighter, its chains rattling as though awakening something far older, far worse.
The runes on the Beacon flared in answer, spreading across the ground like veins of molten light.
Edrin's breath caught. The world itself was responding.
And deep inside, the silver glow within him pulsed—not in fear, but in hunger.
The fight was no longer just survival. It was a signal.
The Astral Council would know.
And they would come.