The clash of steel against bone echoed in the cold, thick air of the Gloamspire. Kaelen's breath came in ragged gasps, but his focus never wavered as he swung his sword through the dark. The Hollowborn surrounded him like a flood, their twisted forms moving in a coordinated, unnerving rhythm, their jagged limbs slashing through the air. Each strike they made seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself, their bodies not quite alive, yet not entirely dead.
Kaelen's heart pounded in his chest as his blade met another Hollowborn's ribcage. It crumpled to the ground, its body dissolving into ash. But there was no time to savor the small victory. More poured from the shadows, each one more grotesque than the last—eyes that burned with malice, mouths that dripped with black venom, their bones crackling with a sound that made his stomach twist.
He danced around the creatures with the fluidity of someone who had spent his life at the forge, swinging his sword in wide arcs, slicing through the air with precision. The Hollowborn were fast, but he was faster—gripping the sword with the same determination he had used to swing a hammer.
But their numbers were endless.
One lunged at his left, claws outstretched, but Kaelen sidestepped and drove his sword through its spine. It let out a shriek that made the trees tremble, but it didn't fall. Instead, the creature seemed to dissolve into a cloud of ash, only to reform in an instant behind him, claws slashing.
Seris shouted something—he didn't hear it. The roar of combat was all that filled his ears now. He swung again, but his movements were becoming sluggish. The Hollowborn were relentless. There was no end to them, no escape.
Then came a voice—a whisper—low and cruel, like the rustle of dry leaves in the wind.
"Your strength is fading, child of flame. The King's will is unyielding. You will fall before his might."
The voice cut through the air like a blade, and for a split second, Kaelen hesitated. His sword wavered.
That was all it took.
A Hollowborn seized the moment of uncertainty. Its claws tore across Kaelen's shoulder, raking through the fabric of his tunic and leaving a deep, burning wound. Kaelen gritted his teeth against the pain, blood dripping from the wound, but he did not falter. He couldn't afford to.
"Fight, Kaelen!" Seris' voice broke through the chaos. She was a flash of movement beside him, her staff crackling with energy as it struck down another Hollowborn. The creature disintegrated with a scream, but there were more. Always more.
Kaelen shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He had no time for doubt. No time for hesitation. The Hollow King was rising. He could feel it in the air—the weight of something ancient, something dark. It was drawing closer, pressing against his mind like the threat of a storm.
But there was something else. Something beneath the surface of this battle. The monolith. The stone pillar that loomed at the center of the clearing, glowing with a strange, almost hypnotic light.
Kaelen's instincts screamed at him to get closer to the monolith, to reach for it. As if it held the answers he had been searching for. There was something about it—a connection. The more he fought, the more the Ember in his chest pulsed, syncing with the light from the stone, as if it was calling to him, urging him to move toward it.
With a snarl, Kaelen broke free from the press of Hollowborn, cutting through their ranks with a brutal efficiency that left bodies of ash and dust in his wake. He couldn't afford to fight them forever. There was something more important at stake. Something much larger than any skirmish.
He sprinted toward the monolith, his feet heavy with the exhaustion of the battle. As he neared the stone pillar, the world seemed to shift. The ground trembled beneath him, a low vibration that rattled his bones. The Hollowborn hesitated, their movements slowing as they sensed the change.
At the base of the monolith, Kaelen felt the pulse of power growing stronger, its rhythm matching the thrum of the Ember in his chest. He stopped, breath coming in ragged gasps, and reached out with trembling fingers toward the stone.
The moment his hand touched the cold surface, a flood of visions struck him. They were not his own memories, not anything he could comprehend. They were flashes of ancient times, of kingdoms that no longer existed. Of fires burning through cities. Of terrible battles fought beneath a sky that cracked open with lightning. And through it all, the figure of the Hollow King stood, his eyes burning with a hunger that reached across time itself.
Kaelen's head snapped back as the vision faded, leaving him gasping for breath. The power of the monolith surged through him, pouring into the Ember in his chest like a torrent of fire. It burned. It burned with an intensity that seared his very soul. He staggered backward, but his feet refused to obey. He had been caught—caught in the web of fate.
"It is time." The voice came again—deep, cold, and ancient. But this time, it wasn't just a whisper. It was a command. The Hollow King's presence loomed in the air, his power stretching across the land, his influence growing like an infection.
Kaelen's body trembled, but he stood tall. He could feel the weight of the Ember in his chest, a weight that was not just his own. It was the weight of the world.
From the darkness, the Hollowborn resumed their attack, but they were slower now. The pull of the monolith had weakened them, as if its power was too great for them to resist. Kaelen spun around, raising his sword with renewed determination, the energy from the monolith coursing through him. The Hollowborn surged forward, but he was ready this time. His movements were sharper, his strikes faster, guided by a force beyond his own strength.
He cut through them one by one, his sword flashing like a streak of lightning. But still, they came. More and more, pouring from the shadows, rising from the earth itself.
Then, with a deafening crack, the monolith shuddered. Kaelen barely had time to react before the earth beneath his feet split open, a chasm yawning wide, the ground trembling like the heartbeat of the world.
A massive shadow rose from the depths of the rift—something more terrible than any Hollowborn. A creature of pure darkness, its form shifting like smoke, eyes gleaming with a malevolent light. It was the manifestation of the Hollow King's power, his will given form.
The creature reached out, its claws like towers, its maw gaping wide, hungry for destruction.
Kaelen could feel it in his bones—the world was breaking. The Hollow King was not just rising. He was coming for everything.
And Kaelen was the last line of defense.