Chapter 960 — Shadows and Sanctity
The Hollow was bathed in silver moonlight, its streets quiet save for the soft hum of the Stellar Engine pulsing in the distance. The barrier shimmered faintly above the skyline, a tranquil veil of light that belied the storm brewing beneath the surface.
Inside the council hall, a war table of enchanted glass projected maps and figures in pale light. Kael stood at its head, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Around him gathered his Pillars — Zerathis, Lyria, Eris, Selina, Varik, Fenrik, Serenya — and the tension was palpable.
"We move at night," Kael said finally, his voice low, calm, and absolute. "No banners. No calls of allegiance. We are ghosts. The two kingdoms can wage their petty war without us — our only targets are the hero and the prison."
He tapped the projection and five glowing points appeared across the enemy's territory — each representing a divine rune that powered the hero's sanctified fortress.
"Those are the anchors," Kael explained. "Each one sustains the divine field that keeps the dragon contained. Take them down, and his fortress weakens. Once the barriers fall, I'll move in personally to free her."
Zerathis frowned, his voice a low growl. "You're still planning to face the hero alone."
Kael didn't deny it. "He's mine."
Eris' gaze lingered on him. She could feel the pulse of his excitement — the coiled anticipation of a warrior who had waited too long to be tested again. But beneath it, she also sensed something else: fear. Not for himself, but for what might happen if his aunt truly suffered because he waited too long.
Lyria folded her arms. "We'll need teams to hit the runes simultaneously. If even one remains, he'll sense the others falling."
Selina nodded. "We'll use our stealth units. Eris, Zerathis, and Varik can each lead one group. Serenya will command the air recon."
Kael met her eyes and inclined his head. "Good. That leaves one team for me."
Eris tilted her head slightly. "Yours?"
Kael's tone dropped into something colder. "To keep the hero's attention. I'll make sure he's too busy to notice what the others are doing."
Varik gave a short, dark laugh. "That's one way to describe walking into a god's chosen sword."
"Better me than all of you," Kael replied simply.
For a moment, silence fell. The only sound was the quiet hum of the engine somewhere far below — the heart of the Hollow itself.
Finally, Zerathis broke the silence. "You really mean not to get involved with either kingdom? Even if this war spills over?"
Kael's eyes glowed faintly in the low light. "This isn't our war. I won't throw Hollow blood into human squabbles. We're not heroes, and we're not gods. We protect our own. That's all."
He turned to face the council fully. "Our goal is twofold: rescue my aunt — and dismantle the hero. The rest is noise."
Eris' voice was calm, almost soothing. "That's a dangerous balance, Kael. If either side blames the Hollow—"
"Then I'll deal with it," Kael interrupted, tone final. "If these kingdoms want to burn each other, let them. I'll make sure they burn far from us."
The council murmured quietly, and Kael dismissed them with a wave of his hand. One by one they left until only Lyria and Eris remained.
Lyria stepped closer, her voice soft. "You're certain about this?"
Kael stared down at the glowing map — the fortress, the runes, the dragon. "She's the last of her kind. My mother's sister. I won't leave her in the hands of a zealot."
Eris moved beside him, her tone quiet but measured. "You're sure this isn't vengeance?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "…Maybe it is. But vengeance and justice often look the same in the dark."
Eris held his gaze, unblinking. "Then you'll need both light and shadow to see it through."
For a moment, Kael allowed himself a faint smile. "I have both right here."
Lyria's lips quirked in return, though her eyes were heavy with worry. "Just promise me you won't face him blind. Heroes have toppled empires before, Kael."
Kael placed a hand over hers, his touch steady. "And daemon lords have built them again."
Across the Battlefield — The Hero
The fortress of Saint's Gate loomed like a cathedral carved into a mountain. Inside, holy flames burned with cold precision.
Eiden — the Radiant Hero — stood before the sealed dragon. Chains of light coiled around her wings, and divine sigils pulsed with every shallow breath she took.
He watched her with silent fascination. "The daemon lord's bloodline," he murmured. "You are proof of what must be purged."
The dragon's voice trembled, but her defiance did not. "You fight for gods who have no mercy left in them. You will see, mortal — they devour their faithful first."
Eiden's hand tightened on the hilt of his blade, divine energy flaring faintly. "Then I'll die as their flame."
But something — faint, distant — tugged at his senses.
A ripple.
A disturbance in the divine current that sustained him.
He turned his head sharply toward the east.
And though he couldn't see them yet, the shadows of the Hollow were already moving.
Back in the Hollow — Kael
Night had fallen completely. Kael stood in his armor, black and silver, etched with faint runes of chaos. Eris beside him, silent and sharp-eyed. Lyria just behind, her expression torn between faith and fear.
The wind stirred the banners above the walls — no longer the Hollow's symbol, but dark cloth to hide their movement.
Kael's voice was low, but it carried.
"Move quietly. Strike hard. Bring our people home."
He turned his gaze toward the horizon — where the war burned red in the distance.
Two kingdoms at each other's throats… and one hero claiming divine justice.
He exhaled through his nose, calm and cold.
Let them fight their holy war. We'll end it in the shadows.
And with that, Kael vanished into the dark — the Hollow's ghosts following close behind.