Outside, the sound of combat had died down. Eliss and her team had successfully fended off the undead guardians. The battleground was strewn with remnants of what once were fearsome guardians, now just lifeless husks.
The group gathered to catch their breath, their weapons and armor still dripping with residue from their adversaries. Elves, Dwarves, and the remaining members of the defense team looked around, silently acknowledging their victory with nods and pats on the back. The unity among the races, forged in the crucible of battle, was evident.
Kael, couldn't help but voice his thoughts. "I must say, that went smoother than expected. These guardians were no match for us."
Eliss shot him a stern look, her eyes flashing a warning. "Kael, don't be too quick to assume we're out of danger. That day I also that that everything was going smoothly..."
Kael shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, "Don't worry Eliss, everything will be fine. But what day are you talking about?"
She shook her head, her gaze focused on the entrance where Amukelo and the strike team had disappeared. "I will tell you once we get back home."
The other heroes, sensing the gravity in her voice, nodded in agreement. While they'd had a minor victory against the guardians, the real challenge still lay ahead, and they needed to remain vigilant. The fate of the realms depended on it.
As he come back from the obsidian depths of his fortress, Valarian felt a ripple in the very fabric of the land's magical essence.
His senses tingled with unease; something was amiss, especially around the domain of the ancient spirit. Though he had been momentarily distracted by his business in the human kingdom, this new sensation demanded his immediate attention.
As the Lord of Shadows, Valarian's connection with the land was intimate, particularly in the elven territories that he had corrupted. He could sense disturbances, shifts in mana, even the faintest of movements. And right now, there was a discordant note in the usually harmonious flow of the ancient spirit's energy.
Closing his eyes briefly, he invoked his dark magic and willed himself to the spirit's entrance. As the veil of darkness lifted, the first thing that met his gaze was the lifeless bodies of his undead guardians, strewn about the ground like discarded playthings.
His eyes, deep pools of endless night, swept the clearing. There, poised in various defensive stances, was a group of warriors. Elves, dwarves, and a few others he didn't recognize. Their faces with a mixture of determination, surprise, and rising fear.
The abrupt appearance of Valarian was like watching a nightmare take form. The air grew cold, and a palpable sense of dread settled over the group. The sudden, choking darkness was overwhelming, and when it cleared, standing before them in all his dark splendor was Valarian.
One of elves heroes whispered, almost inaudibly, "By the Ancient Trees..."
The dwarf heroes tightened their grips on their weapons, faces set in grim determination. Everyone had heard about Valarian, but in real he was even more terrifying.
Taking in the sight of his fallen guardians, Valarian's voice, cold and dripping with disdain, echoed through the clearing. "I must say, I didn't expect an attack this early. I guess I need to deal with the problem."
Kael, forcing himself to push down the wave of fear threatening to engulf his, stepped forward, his voice strong and clear. "We will do whatever it takes to stop you, Valarian."
Valarian's malevolent gaze settled on him. "Your courage is admirable, if misplaced.
Do you truly believe you stand a chance?"
Within the shadowy aura that emanated from Valarian, there was a stirring of darker, even more malevolent energies. With a motion of his hand, a twisted incantation passed his lips, weaving an intricate dance of dark magic into the air.
The very ground beneath them began to rumble and quake. Cracks appeared, releasing an eerie, bluish glow, signifying the presence of trapped souls.
From these chasms, colossal figures began to emerge, each one a grotesque amalgamation of once-heroic warriors now bound to Valarian's will. Their eyes, devoid of any spark of life, glowed with the same eerie blue light, illuminating their decaying forms. Rusting armor, tattered banners, and weapons of ages past clung to their skeletal frames.
Eliss's group instinctively backed up, forming a tighter circle. They watched in growing horror as five of the most formidable undead champions stood ready, each exuding an aura of death and decay so potent it made the very air around them heavy and suffocating.
Valarian smirked, clearly relishing the dread he instilled in them. "Allow me to introduce my elite," he gestured to the monstrosities beside him, "The Forsaken Champions. Do you truly believe you can withstand them?"
Eliss was trembling, with Amukelo she felt safe, but he wasn't here. She knew that facing these beings would be their most challenging battle yet. This was a critical moment in her growth, if she will succeed and keep everyone alive, she will finally be able to prove herself. "We need to hold strong untill Amukelo's team comes back."
Valarian chuckled, said with a wide grin. "Let the dance of death begin." With a swift motion, he signaled his champions to advance, setting the stage for a battle that would echo through the annals of history.