The moment the Veilmaster spoke, the ground beneath Kaelen shifted. The black glass cracked apart, forming a perfect circle—an arena suspended in the void. Beyond its edges, nothing existed.
The shadow warriors closed in, their movements unnervingly fluid, each step echoing like a hammer strike. Their weapons were jagged imitations of real steel—curved blades, hooked spears, axes with edges dripping black fire.
Kaelen took a deep breath. The Abyss inside him stirred, whispering, Let go. Let me take this burden.
He pushed the voice down and gripped his sword tighter. "Come on, then."
The first warrior lunged. Kaelen sidestepped, slicing through its torso—but instead of falling, the wound closed instantly, shadows knitting back together.
From above, the Veilmaster's voice rolled across the arena. "They cannot be killed by steel alone. Show me the truth of your strength."
A spear caught Kaelen across the ribs, spinning him to the ground. Pain flared, sharp and hot. More shadows advanced, their cold presence pressing in on him.
Use me, the Abyss urged again, more insistent. Or die here.
With no other choice, Kaelen let the power slip through his veins. Darkness bled from his eyes, curling around his blade until it burned with violet flame.
The next time he struck, the warrior split apart with a shriek, dissolving into nothing.
A ripple of surprise passed through the Veilmaster's tone. "Interesting…"
But the victory was short-lived. For every shadow Kaelen cut down, two more rose from the cracks, and the arena itself began to shift—its surface tilting, breaking, forcing him toward the edges.
Then the Veilmaster stepped forward, raising one hand. The air thickened, and from the void beyond, something vast began to emerge—an armored behemoth, easily three times Kaelen's height, its helm bearing the same sigil as Vorath's.
The voice echoed once more:
"Now, Keeper… show me if you deserve to live."
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