The path to the Hollow Peaks was a graveyard of forgotten gods.
As Kaien walked through the valley, statues rose from the fog — shattered marble faces, eroded by time, their eyes hollow and empty. Each one had once represented divinity. Now they were nothing but echoes, monuments to failure. The wind howled through their broken mouths like the sighs of the dead.
The rain had stopped two days ago, but the ground still felt wet, heavy with decay. Every step left a mark that steamed faintly in the cold. Kaien's aura, though suppressed, still bled through the edges of his control. He had wrapped his hands in cloth to hide the faint glow pulsing beneath his skin.
He didn't speak. He hadn't since leaving the ruins of the Citadel. The silence was safer that way. Every time he opened his mouth, he felt the other voice stir — the Sovereign's memory, lingering like smoke at the back of his mind.
The Hollow Peaks were said to be unreachable by mortal men. The mountains themselves were alive — moving, shifting, rearranging their stone hearts to keep trespassers out. But Kaien was no mortal now, and the Peaks seemed to recognize him. The fog parted before him. The rocks quieted beneath his boots. Even the air seemed to bow in reluctant acceptance.
He reached the first gate by dusk. It wasn't made of stone or iron — but bone. Enormous ribs curved overhead, forming an archway that pulsed faintly with runes carved deep into the surface. The language was ancient — far older than human or demon speech.
Kaien reached out and placed his hand on the nearest rune. It burned cold against his skin. For a moment, he saw something — a flash of memory that wasn't his.
A throne of stars.
A being wrapped in shadow, holding a world like glass in its palm.
And then, the sound of breaking — not of glass, but of reality.
Kaien staggered back, gripping his chest. "He's still there," he whispered. "Still showing me."
You sought the truth, the voice echoed softly inside his head. Now you will bear it.
He clenched his fists. "You're not me."
You are what remains of me, it replied. The shadow that learned to call itself man.
He ignored it and pressed forward. The gate opened with a deep groan, the runes flaring to life one by one. Beyond it, the mountain rose — black cliffs streaked with silver veins of some unknown metal, glowing faintly like starlight trapped in stone.
The climb was brutal. The air grew thinner with every step. The wind whispered his name, sometimes in Ethan's voice, sometimes in the Sovereign's. At times he couldn't tell which was real.
By midnight, he reached the summit plateau — a vast, circular clearing surrounded by ancient pillars. At its center stood a temple carved directly into the mountain, its doors sealed shut with chains of light.
Kaien stopped at the edge. He could feel it — the same presence that had been inside him since the Crown's destruction, stronger now, resonating with the temple. It was calling to him.
When he stepped closer, the ground beneath him cracked, and a wave of energy rippled outward. The chains trembled. The air shimmered, and the temple doors slowly began to open.
Inside, everything was quiet. The air was old, dense with power that hadn't been disturbed for centuries. In the center of the room stood a black monolith, covered in faint carvings that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kaien walked toward it slowly. Each step echoed. His reflection shimmered faintly across its surface — first his own, then another's. The reflection smiled though he did not.
"Finally," the other voice said, now not inside his head but resonating through the air. "You've come home."
Kaien's eyes narrowed. "I'm not your vessel."
The reflection tilted its head. "And yet you brought me here. You think you've been walking on your own will? Every step, every thought — it was memory guiding you."
Kaien drew his sword, Arkveil. "Then memory will bleed."
The reflection laughed — a sound like the cracking of stars. The room darkened. From the monolith's base, shadows poured out, forming the shape of a man — tall, crowned, draped in something between light and flame. His presence was suffocating.
"I am what you will become," the being said. "The first Sovereign. The one who birthed creation and watched it betray itself."
Kaien's hand trembled around the hilt. "Then you're the reason the world fell into endless war."
The figure's eyes burned brighter. "I am the reason the world exists. There is no light without shadow, no creation without destruction. You think yourself noble because you fight demons, yet you carry the same darkness they were born from."
Kaien raised his sword. "Then I'll end you — and end this curse."
The Sovereign smiled faintly. "You can't kill what you are."
The room exploded in light. Shadows lashed out, slamming into Kaien and sending him flying into a pillar. His armor cracked, pain lancing through his body. The being moved closer, each step distorting the air.
"Feel it," the Sovereign said. "The truth beneath your blood. The moment you accept me, the world will kneel again."
Kaien roared and swung Arkveil, cutting through the darkness. The blade's light clashed with the void, creating a shockwave that shattered the pillars. The entire mountain groaned under the force.
But for every blow Kaien struck, the Sovereign's shadow reformed. Every cut was healed by memory, by eternity itself.
Exhausted, Kaien fell to one knee. The Sovereign's hand reached toward his chest, glowing with violet fire.
"Let me in," it whispered. "Let me show you what you were before you became human."
Kaien's breath came out ragged, but he looked up, eyes burning with the last trace of his will. "I'd rather die as a man… than live as your shadow."
With that, he plunged Arkveil into the monolith itself. The world convulsed. The light inside the temple turned black, swallowing both him and the Sovereign in one final, blinding pulse.
When it faded, Kaien stood alone — his blade shattered, the monolith gone. His reflection in the dark stone floor no longer smiled back.
But deep in the mountain, a faint echo still stirred. A whisper, distant and patient.
You cannot destroy what was made from eternity.
Kaien turned and began walking back into the storm. The burden was heavier now, but his resolve burned brighter. The Sovereign's will might never die — but neither would his.
And somewhere above, for the first time in centuries, the stars began to move.