Then, with deliberate slowness, the knight turned away from the precipice. His heavy footsteps echoed through the empty streets as he began his ascent back into the heart of the city.
The rain began to taper off, leaving behind a mist that clung to the cobblestones. As the knight reached the town square, a flicker of movement caught his attention. He paused, helm turning towards the cliff path.
A figure emerged from the fog, climbing over the lip of the cliff with labored movements. For a moment, hope flickered in his mind – had Joseph somehow survived the impossible fall?
The silhouette stumbled forward, and a flash of blond hair became visible. But before relief could take hold, a second figure burst from the mist behind him. With terrifying speed, it closed the distance and seized Joseph by the collar.
Joseph was hurled to the ground, his body skidding across the wet stones. As he struggled to rise, his attacker stepped into view, and the true nature of the situation became clear.
It was Zellrid.
He stood over Joseph, but something was wrong. Zellrid's movements were jerky, unnatural. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, and a dagger protruded from his abdomen, the hilt slick with blood. Water streamed from his sodden clothes, mixing with the crimson stain spreading across his torn shirt.
Most striking of all was his face. The eyepatch on the right side was gone, revealing what lay beneath.
Where his right eye should have been, there was instead a purple orb, inside it a tentacle had sprouted, lashing about and coiling–always–as if being disturbed by something just beyond its reach.
It pulsed with an otherworldly light, casting eerie shadows across Zellrid's pain-wracked features.
Zellrid stumbled, falling to one knee. His left hand clutched at the dagger in his chest, while his right groped blindly for purchase on the slick cobblestones. The purple eye blazed brighter, seeming to drain what little strength remained in his body.
"You..." Zellrid gasped, his voice a ragged whisper as he glared at Joseph. "You thought... you could escape?"
Joseph scrambled backwards, his eyes wide with terror. "How?" he sputtered. "You should be dead!"
A bitter laugh escaped Zellrid's lips, turning into a wet cough. Blood speckled the ground before him. "Death," he growled, "is not so easily dealt to one such as I."
With trembling fingers, Zellrid grasped the hilt of the dagger. He gritted his teeth, a primal growl building in his throat as he began to pull the blade free. The sound grew into a roar of agony and defiance as the dagger slid from his flesh with a sickening squelch.
Zellrid's form seemed to flicker, as if reality itself struggled to contain him. The purple eye flared, and for a brief moment, something vast and terrible shimmered behind its otherworldly glow.
Joseph whimpered, pressing himself against a nearby wall. "What are you?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Zellrid rose to his feet, swaying slightly. Blood dripped steadily from the wound in his belly, but his gaze remained locked on Joseph.
"I am free," Zellrid snarled, taking a lurching step forward. "I am the hollow hunter, I am zellrid blade cursed."
As Zellrid advanced on the cowering Joseph, the knight observed the scene in stoic silence.
With each step Zellrid took, the air around him seemed to warp and twist. The purple eye pulsed with increasing intensity, its tentacle lashing out with greater ferocity. Joseph pressed himself further against the wall, his eyes darting frantically for an escape route.
Suddenly, Zellrid's right hand shot up to his throat, fingers digging into his own flesh. His left hand followed suit, both now wrapped around his neck in a viselike grip. Zellrid's face contorted in confusion and pain as he fought against his own hands.
"No," he choked out, his voice strained and guttural. "Not... now..."
Zellrid's body convulsed violently, his hands still locked around his own throat.
"I won't... let you..." Zellrid growled through gritted teeth, his words barely audible. His left eye rolled back in his head, leaving only the whites visible.
The purple eye, however, remained fixed on Joseph, its gaze filled with an menacing aura.
The knight took a step forward, his armor creaking in the tense silence. Joseph's gaze flickered between Zellrid and the approaching knight, terror etched across his face.
Suddenly, Zellrid's body went rigid. His hands fell away from his throat, hanging limply at his sides. When he spoke again, his voice had changed deeper, resonant, as if multiple voices were layered atop one another.
"Foolish vessel," the voices intoned. "Did you think you could contain us forever?"
Zellrid's head snapped up, his left eye now as black as pitch.
The knight's armor creaked as he reached for Zellrid. "hmmm. mmh."
Zellrid's head snapped up, his pitch-black left eye locking onto the knight. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" The scream tore from his throat, a cacophony of voices layered atop his own.
His hand shot out, connecting with the knight's chest plate. Metal shrieked as the knight's feet left the ground, his armored form carving a furrow through cobblestones.
A deafening crack split the air. The sky tore open like a wound, crimson light pouring through. A woman nearby fell to her knees, pointing a trembling finger upward. "By all that's holy... what is that?"
From the rent heavens, a colossal hand descended – flesh and veins writhing, clutching a sword of impossible size.
"Run! RUN!" A priest sprinted past, holy symbols clattering to the ground. "The gods have abandoned us!"
Another priest grabbed him. "Brother, what are you saying? We must have faith!"
"Faith?" The first priest laughed, a manic edge to his voice. "Look up there and tell me your god still listens!"
A group huddled in a doorway, hands clasped in prayer. Their whispers grew to shouts, competing to be heard:
"Preserve us, O Lord-"
"Great Spirit, shield your children-"
"Ancestors, guide us-"
Their pleas mingled with screams and the crash of looting from nearby streets.
Joseph pressed himself against the wall, eyes wild. "Mammon, lord of wealth, I beseech thee," he babbled. "Protect your faithful servant. I offer all I have, all I am. Please, save me from this madness!"
Zellrid's voice cut through the chaos, echoing unnaturally: "Witness the truth of your reality, mortals." His body contorted, bones cracking as he took a step forward. "Your gods are silent. Your prayers, unanswered."
The tentacle in his purple eye lashed out, wrapping around Joseph's throat. Joseph's prayers devolved into choked gasps. "Please... I'll do anything..."
"There is only darkness," Zellrid continued, "and those who claim to dwell within it, shall know true pain." The tentacle tightened.
A child's wail pierced the air. "Momma, make it stop!"
"Shh, baby," a woman soothed, clutching the child to her chest as she ran. "Don't look up. Just close your eyes."
The cosmic sword inched closer, now barely a hundred feet above the city. Reality rippled around it, buildings wavering like mirages.
"What's happening to the buildings?" someone shouted. "They're... melting?"
The knight struggled to rise, his armor groaning. "Mmh... hmmm." he growled.
Zellrid turned, his mismatched eyes fixed on the knight, one void-black, one purple and writhing. "Oh, sweet chaos thank you mammon," the layered voices said. "You made us pleased".