The council chamber in Elandor was thick with tension. Flickering torches cast long shadows over the faces of the city's highest strategists and mages, all gathered to hear Kael's report. His words still echoed in the vaulted hall: a colossal Varnok, marked with the black sigils of corruption, suffocating in presence and ancient in nature.
A decision was unanimous — a strike team must be assembled. The squad would be composed of Ignis-rank adventurers, seasoned and deadly, each chosen for their unique skills in combating high-level Varnok threats. They were to journey into Dravhallow Peaks, investigate the site, and if possible, retrieve any runes or relics linked to the mysterious sigils.
Kael watched the preparations quietly, knowing this was beyond his current strength. Instead, he withdrew to a secluded training hall deep beneath Elandor's spires, where the echo of his footsteps mixed with the hum of Essence flowing through his veins.
His focus was singular: mastering Maelstrom Overdrive.
The technique, powerful but draining, demanded precise control — channeling Lightning and Storm Essence in perfect harmony while moving with blistering speed and lethal intent. But every attempt left him breathless, limbs heavy as lead, his Essence nearly spent.
Hours melted into days, each session a brutal test of endurance and will. Kael forced his body beyond limits, chasing the elusive balance where power would no longer consume him, but obey his command.
As the city's night sky deepened, Kael's vision sharpened. He felt the storm Essence swirl beneath his skin like a tempest waiting to break free. Somewhere in the distance, the squad prepared to face the unknown threat. And Kael, silent and determined, prepared to face his own tempest within.
The last spark of Essence flickered from Kael's palm, vanishing into the misty silence of the chamber.
He sank to one knee, chest heaving. His arms trembled, the lingering charge of Storm Essence pulsing beneath the skin like restless thunderclouds. Almost, he thought, clenching his fist. The technique was close to being tamed — but not yet. Maelstrom Overdrive still drained him too fast, the final shockwave collapsing his control every time.
He stood slowly, sweat glistening across his brow, and looked to the distant entrance of the chamber. Somewhere past those walls, the Ignis-ranked squad was already hours into their mission — sent to investigate the impossible.
A Varnok whose presence suffocated the air. One Kael hadn't dared face.
⸻
Wind screamed through the frozen ridges of the Dravhallow Peaks, slicing across armor and enchantments alike. The five Ignis-ranked adventurers moved with practiced caution, each one a veteran of more battles than they cared to count.
Leading them was Seren Vhal, an Essence Swordmaster known for her flame-tempered focus. Behind her strode Braen Hollowmaw, a Warbrand who once fought a Pyre-class Varnok to a stalemate with nothing but his fists. The rest were no less capable — an Icebinder named Vess, a Scout-Mage with echo-sight called Lirien, and the team's rear guard, a silent rune-warrior known only as Dekk.
"Same spot Kael reported?" Braen muttered, steam curling from his breath as they reached a shattered cliffside lined with ancient pines.
Seren nodded. "The runes are still faintly present… and Essence feels wrong here."
She raised a hand and murmured a short spell. A detection flare flickered out, skimming over the ice-crusted stones. When it returned, it came corrupted. Frayed edges. Flickering. As if something had tried to devour the spell mid-flight.
Vess swore under her breath.
"The sigils are active," she said, her hands tracing cold blue wards. "Not just residue. They're feeding off the mountain's Essence. It's like they're anchoring something here."
"Something old," Dekk finally spoke, voice like crushed gravel.
⸻
They found the remnants of a ruin buried under frozen stone — half-buried arches marked in the same black sigils Kael had described. The markings pulsed with an oily shimmer, as if reacting to their presence.
Lirien knelt beside one and hissed. "This isn't normal corruption. These runes aren't just Varnok-made… they're Varnok-altered. Human in origin, but twisted."
"What are you saying?" Braen asked.
"That these used to be Valerian runes."
A heavy silence fell over the squad.
Seren stepped forward and unsheathed her Essence-forged blade. "We collect what we can. No more than ten minutes—"
The mountain trembled.
And then it screamed.
⸻
From the frozen cliffs above, something descended.
Not crashed, not leapt — descended. Like smoke flowing in reverse. A black shape, humanoid and sleek, eyes glowing red from a head wrapped in shadow and bone. A Humanoid Varnok — but leaner than the usual berserkers.
Smarter.
The squad scattered immediately, trained instincts kicking in. Vess launched a volley of ice spikes. Lirien blink-shifted to higher ground. Braen charged with his gauntlets lit in searing magma.
But the Varnok blurred, phasing through an attack, and drove its hand through Vess's chest — Essence-suppressing claws tearing past her armor like it was parchment.
She crumpled, screaming, as Braen tackled the creature back.
Dekk caught her before she hit the ground, calling for wards. "Regeneration failing—! Her Essence is unraveling!"
Seren's blade flared. "We're pulling out. Lirien, mark an exit path—"
More movement.
From the black sigil gate, two more shapes emerged. One tall and chittering, lined with shifting limbs. The other floated slightly above the ground, cloaked in mist that froze the very air.
Multiple Humanoid-class Varnok.
Seren's knuckles whitened. "This isn't a scouting post… it's a breeding nest."
⸻
Kael jerked upright from meditation, gasping. His Essence trembled like it had heard a scream across the leylines. Something just shifted. Storm surged in his veins, reacting before thought.
He stared up at the arching stone ceiling, eyes wide.
"They're not going to make it," he muttered, standing fast, already reaching for his gear.
But his steps faltered. No not yet, he told himself. I'm not ready.
So instead, Kael turned and walked deeper into the underground hall — to a place even he feared to train. Where he'd push his control of Maelstrom Overdrive to its limits.
Because next time… it would be him facing those things.