The altar trembled beneath Mandle's hand. A deep crack split across its surface, and a cold wind spilled out, carrying whispers older than the chamber itself.
Then they rose.
Shapes crawled out of the altar — twisted silhouettes, ancient and furious. Their voices scraped against the stone like rusted chains.
"Who summons us—" "Who dares disturb our rest—" "A mortal child touches the altar— laughable—" "You are nothing—"
Their insults filled the chamber like smoke.
Mandle staggered as the power inside him surged too violently. His head struck the altar's edge. Warmth slid down his face. He touched it, stared at the dark smear on his fingers… then dragged his hand across his lips.
A metallic tang touched his tongue.
His smile widened — slow, feral, unrestrained.
The demons froze.
Because in that instant, they felt it.
The power in Mandle's veins. The darkness coiling beneath his skin. The presence awakening behind his eyes.
Their voices faltered. Their rage died. Silence fell like a blade.
One by one, the demons dropped to their knees.
"Forgive us…" "We did not know…" "Spare us, heir…" "We did not recognize your mark…"
Mandle lifted his head slowly. Tears streamed down his face — not from sorrow, but from the overwhelming force rising inside him.
A trembling laugh escaped him.
"You…" he whispered. "You took what belongs to me."
The demons pressed their faces to the floor, trembling.
"We were blind—" "We obeyed the priests—" "We did not mean—"
Mandle's laughter deepened, echoing through the chamber like thunder.
"And you dared," he said, "to stand before me without fear."
His eyes burned.
"Today… you fall."
He raised his hand.
The shadows around him surged forward like a living storm. They wrapped around the nearest demon, not tearing — but pulling. Drawing out its essence, its strength, its very presence. The creature's form dimmed, its power unraveling like smoke being inhaled.
Mandle breathed in.
The shadows poured into him.
His aura flared — darker, heavier, more ancient.
The other demons screamed — not from pain, but from the terror of watching their own power being stripped away.
One tried to flee. Another tried to hide. None escaped.
Mandle lifted his hand again, and the shadows obeyed. They swept through the chamber, pulling the demons' life force into him, feeding the awakening inside his veins.
One by one, the demons faded into nothingness.
And with each one, Mandle grew stronger. Darker. More terrifying.
When the last echo faded, Mandle stood alone in the center of the chamber, shadows swirling around him like a crown.
His eyes glowed with a power that had not existed in centuries.
He turned slowly.
And now… even the altar seemed to fear him.