The Hall of Echoes crumbled behind them, shards of glass dissolving into mist. What remained of the Keepers pressed forward in grim silence, their faces pale with the weight of what they had endured. Each step deeper into the Hollow felt like stepping out of the world and into a dream made of shadow.
The tunnel sloped downward until it opened into a vast cavern—the Hollow's heart. Chains thicker than towers stretched from wall to wall, binding a figure buried in mist. Some links still held firm, glowing faintly with silver runes, but many lay broken, their shattered ends smoldering with black fire.
And there, before the chains, stood Varrow.
Cloaked in black, his eyes gleaming like shards of ice, he raised his hands in mock welcome. "At last. The flame. The blade. The crown. You bring me everything I need."
Kael strode forward, the Moonsilver Sword blazing, its light reflecting off the broken chains. "You'll have nothing, Varrow. Not while I breathe."
Varrow's smile deepened. "How noble. How predictable. But you've walked exactly where I wanted you to. Every relic you claim, every chain you weaken—it all serves me. And him."
The mist behind him shifted. For the first time, Kael and Isolde saw it clearly: the outline of a figure vast and terrible, crowned in black fire, its form straining against the chains. The Shadow King.
Isolde staggered, the Crown of Dawn flaring with blinding light. Her mark burned hotter than ever, golden fire racing through her veins. The voice filled her skull, shaking her to her core.
Flame… child… vessel. At last you have come home.
She fell to her knees, clutching her head, the crown's glow pulsing in time with the Shadow King's chains.
Kael knelt beside her, gripping her shoulders. "Fight him, Isolde! He's trying to claim you!"
Varrow's laughter rolled across the chamber. "She is claimed, Prince. Every spark of fire, every breath of light—it belongs to him. To us. You've carried her all this way only to place the crown upon his brow yourself."
The Keepers raised their weapons, their chants rising, but shadows surged to meet them. Hunters emerged from the mist, countless and tireless, surrounding them. The cavern became a battlefield of fire and dark, the clash of steel echoing like thunder.
Kael rose, his sword blazing, fury burning in his chest. "Then I'll carve through you first."
He struck at Varrow. Silver light met black flame, the clash ringing like shattering bells. Sparks rained across the cavern as the two locked blades.
"You cannot win," Varrow hissed, shadows lashing from his cloak. "The Hollow is mine. The king is mine. And soon, the flame will be mine."
Kael's reply was a roar as he drove the Moonsilver Sword forward, silver light piercing Varrow's darkness. For the first time, the adviser staggered, his smile faltering.
But even as Kael pressed the attack, Isolde's scream split the chamber.
The crown blazed on her brow, its light pouring into the chains. One by one, the runes flared—then cracked. The Shadow King stirred, his laughter filling the abyss.
Yes. Break them all. Free me.
Isolde's eyes glowed gold, her voice trembling as she looked at Kael. "I… I can't stop it."
Kael's heart thundered as the cavern shook, chains snapping one after another.
And in that moment, he knew—the final battle was no longer against Varrow alone. It was against the Shadow King himself.