The road to the North was a winding path of jagged rocks and whispering pines. As Kaelen and Liora approached the Black-Gorge, a narrow canyon that served as the only gateway to the Frozen Wastes, the air grew unnaturally still. The birds had stopped singing, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Kaelen pulled the reins of his horse, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the high ridges of the canyon. In his past life, this gorge was known as the 'Graveyard of Caravans.' It was the perfect place for an ambush.
"Kaelen? Why are we stopping?" Liora asked, her hand instinctively gripping her magic staff. She could feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a furnace.
"The shadows are too long, Liora," Kaelen whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of Ghost-Biter. "And they're moving against the sun."
The Ambush
Suddenly, a high-pitched whistle sliced through the air.
"Get down!" Kaelen roared, throwing himself off his horse and pulling Liora with him.
A split second later, three black-feathered arrows hissed through the space where their heads had been, thudding into a nearby tree. The arrows didn't just hit; they exploded into clouds of purple toxic gas.
"Void Cultists," Kaelen hissed, pulling a damp cloth over his nose. "Liora, use a Wind-Barrier! Now!"
Liora, though trembling, reacted with the speed of a seasoned student. "Vortex Shield!" she cried, slamming her staff into the ground. A swirling dome of air pushed the toxic gas away, creating a small pocket of safety.
From the ridges above, six figures in tattered black robes descended, sliding down the canyon walls with supernatural agility. They weren't human anymore. Their skin was grey, and their eyes were replaced by glowing violet orbs. These were Void-Thralls—low-level soldiers of the Cult, fueled by madness.
"Stay inside the barrier, Liora! Don't let them break your focus!" Kaelen commanded.
The Dance of Silver and Shadow
Kaelen didn't wait for the Thralls to reach them. He sprinted forward, his movement so fast it left a silver trail in the dim light of the gorge.
The first Thrall swung a rusted scimitar coated in dark energy. Kaelen didn't parry. He stepped inside the guard of the creature and delivered a palm strike to its chest.
"Sovereign's internal Pulse: Burst!"
A jolt of silver mana exploded inside the Thrall's body. The creature didn't just fall; its chest cavity collapsed inward as the holy mana vaporized the void energy holding it together. It turned into ash before it even hit the ground.
But the others were closing in. Two Thralls jumped from behind, their claws extended.
Kaelen unsheathed Ghost-Biter in a fluid motion. The iron blade hummed with a low, predatory sound.
"Silver Lion Style: First Form — Moon-Severer (Twin Arc)!"
Instead of one blade of energy, Kaelen released two. The silver crescents sliced through the air, decapitating both Thralls in a single stroke.
However, Kaelen's face grew grim. His body was still that of a seventeen-year-old. Every time he used the Silver Lion techniques, his muscles screamed in protest. He could feel a warm trickle of blood running from his nose.
"Is that all you have?" Kaelen shouted at the ridges. "Sending puppets to do a master's work?"
The Void-Seeker Appears
A cold, raspy laughter echoed through the gorge. From the shadows of a large boulder, the hooded man with the ritualistic scars stepped out. This was the Void-Seeker who had been following them.
"Impressive, Sovereign," the Seeker said, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "You move like a man who has lived a hundred lives. But your body is a cage, isn't it? It can't hold that power for long."
The Seeker raised a gnarled wooden staff topped with a human skull. "Void Torrent: Black Serpent!"
A massive snake made of writhing black shadows erupted from the staff, charging toward the Wind-Barrier.
"Liora, move!" Kaelen yelled.
Liora tried to strengthen the shield, but the shadow-serpent was too strong. It shattered the barrier like glass, the backlash sending Liora flying back into the stone wall.
"Liora!" Kaelen's heart skipped a beat. Seeing her slumped against the rocks triggered a flashback—a memory of her lifeless body in the future.
A cold, absolute fury took over his mind. The silver mana around him stopped flickering and became steady, turning a deep, incandescent white.
The Sovereign's Wrath
"You shouldn't have touched her," Kaelen said, his voice sounding deeper, echoing with the power of his past self.
The Void-Seeker laughed, unfazed. "And what will you do, boy? You're out of mana."
"I am never out of mana," Kaelen replied. He gripped Ghost-Biter with both hands and held it vertically in front of his face. "I am the mana."
He closed his eyes and reached deep into his soul, tapping into the 'Forbidden Core'—a reservoir of energy he had brought back through the Chronos Rite. It was dangerous to use, but he didn't care.
The ground around Kaelen began to crack. Small pebbles began to float into the air.
"Sovereign's Art: Heavens-Fall Strike!"
Kaelen vanished. He didn't just move fast; he truly disappeared from sight.
The Void-Seeker's eyes widened. He frantically cast a dark shield, but it was useless. Kaelen appeared directly above him, his sword glowing with the intensity of a falling star.
BOOM!
The impact shook the entire gorge. A shockwave of white light cleared the mist and dust for a hundred yards. When the light faded, Kaelen was standing in a small crater. The Void-Seeker was pinned to the ground by Ghost-Biter, the blade driven through his shoulder.
"Tell me," Kaelen hissed, leaning over the dying assassin. "Who is the 'Master' you serve in this era? Is it Malakor? Or is the Prophet already here?"
The Seeker coughed up black blood, a twisted grin on his face. "The Prophet... is already... among you. The Academy... is just the beginning. The North... will be your... tomb."
With a final shudder, the Seeker's body dissolved into black slime, leaving only his tattered robe behind.
Healing and Vows
Kaelen stumbled, his legs giving out. He used his sword as a crutch and crawled toward Liora.
"Liora... wake up," he whispered, his voice trembling.
She groaned, her eyes fluttering open. She had a nasty bruise on her forehead, but she was alive. "Kaelen? Did... did we win?"
Kaelen let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He pulled her into a brief, tight hug. "We won. But we have to move. More will come."
He used the last of his strength to channel a small amount of healing mana into her. As the warmth spread through her, Liora looked at him, her expression filled with a mix of fear and deep curiosity.
"Kaelen, that power... you looked like someone else for a moment. You looked... like a King."
Kaelen didn't answer. He helped her up and led her toward their horses, which had luckily survived the blast.
As they rode out of the Black-Gorge and saw the first snow-capped peaks of the North, Kaelen looked back one last time. He knew the Seeker was right about one thing: the Prophet was here. And if the Prophet was at the Academy, then Elara was in even more danger than he thought.
I have to finish the mission at Iron-Hold and get back, Kaelen thought, his jaw tightening. I won't lose anyone this time. Not Liora, and certainly not Elara.
The sky above turned a cold, steely grey. The Frozen Wastes were waiting. And deep within the ice, something ancient was beginning to wake up.