The air shook as the phantom's ashes faded. The woman stood steady, dagger in hand, eyes unflinching. But the Immortal did not speak. He only watched her, the fire of centuries burning behind his gaze.
At last, his voice rolled through the void.
"Killing shadows is nothing. Loyalty demands more than steel."
The woman straightened. "Then tell me what you require."
The Immortal's lips curved into a cruel smile. His chains rattled like thunder.
"If you want to see me free, you must fetch me what was stolen."
He pressed a chained hand against his chest. The mark of an old wound glowed faintly, pulsing like a hidden star.
"When the king bound me here, he tore a piece of my heart away—a vessel, sealed in a bottle of obsidian glass. Within it, my power still burns, waiting. Without it, these chains will never break."
The woman's breath hitched. A fragment of a god's heart… the thought alone made her blood run cold. "And where is it?"
The Immortal's laughter rumbled like stone cracking.
"Locked away. Hidden in the king's vault, behind walls of magic and iron. Guarded by priests who would rather die than let it be touched."
His eyes fixed on hers, sharp as blades.
"Find it. Bring it to me. Fail—and I will tear your soul apart myself."
For the first time, doubt flickered across her face. To steal from the king's sanctum was suicide. The vault was a myth, spoken of only in whispers. And yet, the thought of turning back never crossed her mind.
She bowed low, her voice steady.
"I will find your heart, Master. Even if I must walk through fire."
The Immortal's grin widened, chains rattling with satisfaction.
"Then go. Let the kingdom see what loyalty truly means."
And with that, the void shuddered. A path of pale light opened before her—leading back to the world of men, where golden towers hid rotten secrets, and where somewhere in the shadows, a bottle pulsed with the power of the Immortal Beast.