----Chapter 6----
The Ethille military camp lay shrouded in silence, its air thick with the acrid tang of smoke and charred wood. Torn banners fluttered weakly, scorched tents sagged inward, and the once orderly ground was gouged with jagged cracks.
The blast had left its mark, a scar carved into the very earth, a testament to the destructive power unleashed.
The explosion had struck the moment Darkan seized the prisoner. A black orb of condensed shadow had burst apart with a thunderous roar, a sphere of lightning laced darkness tearing through the camp like the wrath of the abyss.
The force of the blast had been immense, obliterating everything in its path.
Azre had only just realized the unstable surge. Her instincts flared too late, panic flashing in her golden eyes. A cold dread washed over her as she recognized the familiar energy signature of Holon's dark magic.
"Barrier now!" she had cried, her voice sharp with urgency.
She spread her hands wide, summoning a radiant shield of golden light. Nilda, already reacting, thrust her rapier forward, her free hand circling as motes of light bloomed before her.
Her chant rose in desperate rhythm, quick and sharp, a plea wrapped in steel. The words of the ancient spell vibrated in the air, a desperate attempt to ward off the impending destruction.
Yet distance betrayed them. Azre's barrier could not stretch far enough. Nilda's had not yet fully formed. The blast collided with them like a tidal wave, a searing wave of heat and darkness.
The camp convulsed. Tents shredded into ribbons. Earth buckled. Stone cracked. The roar of the explosion drowned even the screams. The air crackled with residual energy, the smell of ozone stinging their nostrils.
And then silence. A deafening silence that pressed down on them, heavy and absolute.
The prisoner was gone. So too was Darkan's phantom, snuffed out like smoke on the wind. Azre felt a surge of frustration and guilt. They had been so close, yet Holon had managed to snatch victory from their grasp once again.
Azre collapsed to her knees, palms pressed against the scorched stone, breath sharp and ragged. Her golden aura flickered as she traced the veins of lingering shadow energy. Sparks pulsed beneath the cracks like veins of molten coal.
She closed her eyes, focusing her senses, trying to decipher the patterns of the residual energy.
"This… isn't residue," she whispered, voice strained. "It's deliberate. A trail." The energy felt tainted, corrupted, as if Holon was deliberately taunting them, leading them on a chase.
Nilda wiped blood from her lip, her rapier trembling faintly in her grasp. "He wants us to follow. This reeks of a trap." She glanced at Azre, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright?"
Eldhar stepped forward, his greatsword glinting faintly in the smoke. His tone carried the steady weight of iron. "Then we will not follow blindly. Discipline wins wars, not fury." He surveyed the devastated camp, his expression grim. "We must proceed with caution."
Aven slammed his fist against his shield, the metallic clang shattering the silence. "Every second wasted, the prisoner slips further away! We can't just sit and"
"Enough." Eldhar's voice cut like a blade. His gaze fixed on Aven, unwavering. "You are a knight of Ethille. You will hold your tongue and follow my order." His eyes narrowed, a silent warning to control his temper.
Aven stiffened, jaw clenched, but said no more. He knew Eldhar was right, but the urgency of the situation gnawed at him.
Azre rose slowly, brushing ash from her gloves, her golden eyes flickering with determination. "He thinks he can control the hunt. But the trail he left will not fade quickly. We'll be ready when we find him." She met Eldhar's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them.
At that, Eldhar exhaled a breath he had been holding. His voice steadied. "Then it is decided. We rest. One hour only. Then we march." He turned to the others, his voice firm. "See to your wounds. Prepare yourselves. We have a long road ahead."
The knights settled into uneasy silence. Some bound shallow wounds, others sharpened steel dulled by the blast. The campfires crackled faintly, unable to warm the heavy mood. The weight of their failure pressed down on them, a reminder of the stakes involved.
Eldhar turned his gaze to Rowan and Thalia. "You two ride for Brightnox. Lady Seraphine entrusted us with this, and it must be fulfilled. Learn what she has to show you and return swiftly. The rest of us will pursue Darkan." He nodded to them, a silent acknowledgment of the importance of their mission.
Rowan bowed his head, fingers brushing the hilt of his blade. "We'll bring word back with haste." He glanced at Thalia, a silent promise to return quickly.
Thalia's voice rang steady. "We won't fail, Captain." She adjusted her bow, her eyes focused and determined.
Just then, Captain Viera arrived, her boots crunching across the fractured earth. Dust streaked her blonde hair, but her emerald eyes gleamed sharp and commanding. She looked to Rowan and Thalia.
"You ride into the unknown," she said evenly. "Carry our faith with you. May steel and light guide your path." She placed a hand on Rowan's arm, a silent blessing.
Rowan straightened in his saddle. "We'll return, Captain. You have my word." He met her gaze, his expression resolute.
With a firm nod from Viera, they mounted and departed. Their horses' hooves drummed a fading rhythm across the darkened horizon, leaving the camp behind. The sound faded into the distance, swallowed by the encroaching darkness.
The remaining knights sharpened their blades and their focus. Azre knelt by the shattered ground once more, golden threads of light swirling faintly from her hands as she studied the remnants of shadow mana.
She muttered incantations under her breath, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"He's leading us," she murmured, her voice tight. "Every line drawn, every spark left burning. Holon wants us to follow." She could almost feel his presence, a dark and malevolent force guiding them towards his trap.
Eldhar's eyes narrowed. "Then we let him think we are prey. But we strike as hunters." He gripped his greatsword, his resolve hardening.
An hour passed, heavy with tension. At last, Eldhar called them to move. Captain Viera clasped his arm firmly, a warrior's farewell. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and determination.
"You've done all you can here," she said. "Now go. And may your blades cut true." She released his arm, her gaze following them as they prepared to depart.
The knights nodded as one, their silhouettes vanishing into the treeline, guided by the black current of Darkan's lingering trail. The forest seemed to swallow them whole, the darkness closing in around them.
The forest grew darker with every step. Branches twisted above like grasping claws, strangling the moonlight. The silence grew oppressive, the air heavy with anticipation. The scent of decay and something else something ancient and malevolent hung heavy in the air.
Eldhar raised his hand. "Halt." He scanned the surroundings, his senses on high alert.
The knights froze, blades ready. They stood motionless, their breaths held, listening for any sign of danger.
The forest held its breath. Not a bird. Not a whisper of wind. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the pounding of their own hearts.
Then movement. A rustling in the underbrush, a snap of a twig.
Aven raised his shield just as a mace crashed against it, the impact ringing like thunder. With a roar, he surged forward, his shield battering the bandit into a tree. The wood cracked.
The bandit slumped unconscious, bones broken by the sheer force. Aven spat on the ground, his eyes filled with fury.
Two more rushed Nilda. She danced aside, her rapier darting with surgical precision. Silver flashed. One fell with a pierced lung, the other with his throat cut before he could cry out. Her movements were swift and deadly, a testament to her skill and training.
Eldhar's roar echoed through the forest as six bandits swarmed him. His greatsword swept in a deadly arc, a whirlwind of steel and wind that cleaved through flesh and bone alike. The ground was painted red in an instant. Blood splattered on the trees, staining the leaves a gruesome crimson.
Azre's duel was swift and brutal. She cut down a chanting mage before his spell could form, shattered an arrow mid flight, and skewered a swordsman lunging at her flank.
The archer trembled, bowstring slack with terror. Azre struck with the hilt instead of the blade, dropping her unconscious. She glanced around, her eyes scanning for any other threats.
When the forest fell quiet again, only corpses remained. The air was thick with the smell of blood and death.
Aven's breath came heavy. "That was… too easy." He wiped the blood from his shield, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Eldhar's eyes swept the trees. "Which means it was meant to be." He knew that Holon was toying with them, leading them further into his trap.
The trail wound deeper still, until at last they reached a clearing. Vines clung to ancient stone. Broken pillars rose like jagged teeth from the moss. The air grew colder, a chilling premonition of what was to come.
A ruined temple. Forgotten, yet waiting. A place of dark secrets and ancient power.
The knights stepped into its heart. The earth groaned. Black veins of mana crawled outward from the center, glowing like molten cracks in the stone. The air crackled with dark energy, a palpable sense of malice.
"Prepare" Eldhar began. He drew his greatsword, his grip tightening on the hilt.
The ground split apart, swallowing his words. A pinnacle of shadow erupted, engulfing them in blinding dark. A vortex of darkness swirled around them, pulling them down into the abyss.
The world twisted, their bodies wrenched from the earth. They felt a sensation of falling, of being ripped apart and put back together again.
When their vision returned, they no longer stood in the forest. The scent of decay and something else something ancient and malevolent filled their nostrils.
They stood in a vast hall of bone and blackened stone. Skulls adorned the walls, their empty sockets staring down at them. The air was heavy with the weight of death and despair.
At its center loomed a throne, forged of skulls and iron. Upon it sat Holon, his smile cruel and wide. His presence filled the chamber like a suffocating fog, a dark and oppressive force.
At his side stood Darkan, axe resting against his shoulder, shadow stretching long and ominous. His eyes gleamed with a cold, predatory hunger.
"Well," Holon's voice rang, smooth and venomous. "The knights of Ethille have come at last." He chuckled, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "I've been expecting you."
The trap had closed. The knights were surrounded, outnumbered, and outmatched.
And the storm was only beginning. The true battle was about to begin.