Without hesitation, Edric pulled an arrow from his quiver, knocking it in one fluid motion. "On it," he said, drawing his bowstring taut, his eyes locked on the figure.
Kyrntar surged forward, his heart pounding in his chest as he channeled every ounce of his strength into the swing. His muscles tensed, veins straining as he lifted his greatsword high, its blade gleaming with the cold light of the chamber. With a roar, he brought it crashing down in a vicious arc. The steel met the shadow with a wet, hissing sound, cutting deep into the shifting darkness. But instead of the satisfying crunch of flesh and bone, the inky form rippled like smoke, the blade passing through with far less resistance than expected.
The shadow recoiled, but not in pain—only in reaction. Its form shifted and twisted, reforming as the cut sealed itself almost instantly. Kyrntar's breath caught, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. The creature's red eyes glowed brighter, narrowing with a feral, ancient fury that sent a shiver down his spine.
"That should have done more," Kyrntar muttered through clenched teeth, quickly stepping back into a defensive stance, his sword held low, ready for whatever came next. His mind raced, calculating, searching for any opening, any weakness in the creature's shifting form.
Before he could act, Edric loosed an arrow. The shaft sliced through the air with deadly precision, whistling as it embedded itself in the creature's chest with a solid *thunk*. But just like Kyrntar's strike, the impact seemed to be swallowed by the shadow. The creature flinched, but only for a heartbeat, as the arrow disintegrated into nothingness within its dark form. The shadow's glowing eyes snapped toward Edric, a guttural growl reverberating through the chamber like the low rumble of an earthquake.
Edric's confidence faltered, but he notched another arrow, his face pale in the flickering light. "Dammit," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The shadow shifted, its massive form elongating as it glided toward them, its movements unnatural and terrifyingly fluid. The air around it grew colder, and Kyrntar could feel the chill creeping into his bones, the oppressive weight of its gaze bearing down on them like the promise of death. This thing wasn't just a monster—it was darkness, and they were locked in its sights.
"We need a new plan," Kyrntar growled, adjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword. His eyes never left the creature, watching for any signs of its next move, his mind reeling as it calculated their limited options. If brute force wasn't enough, they'd need to find another way—or they wouldn't survive this.
"That's not good," Edric muttered, knocking another arrow, though his voice carried a hint of bravado. "Marra, how about a little extra protection over here?"
Marra's hands trembled as the healing energy flickered between her fingers, her usual confidence eroded by the oppressive weight of the shadow before them. She cast a glance at Edric, her voice tight, barely masking the fear beneath. "You really think you can handle this?" Her question wasn't teasing—it was laced with genuine concern, her eyes wide as the darkness closed in.
Edric forced a grim smile, but the lighthearted bravado was gone from his voice. "No promises," he muttered, his hands shaking as he nocked another arrow. The cold gaze of the shadow seemed to drain the warmth from the room, and for the first time, Edric's voice cracked with doubt. "But thanks for trying."
Marra quickly muttered an incantation, casting a shield of radiant light over Edric, though her voice wavered. "Just... stay close," she whispered, her heart pounding as the shadow crept nearer, its presence suffocating. The flicker of concern in her eyes was now an unmistakable dread as the realization settled in—they might not survive.
Kyrntar charged forward, muscles straining as he swung his greatsword with brutal force, the steel slicing through the air with a deadly whistle. His grip tightened, knuckles white as he aimed for the heart of the shadow. The blade collided with a solid *thud*, the impact reverberating up his arms—but the shadow seemed to drink in the blow, its form rippling like disturbed water. The darkness bent and twisted around the strike, reforming almost instantly, leaving no mark behind.
"It's like hitting smoke," Kyrntar growled, his voice edged with mounting frustration. His breaths came in ragged gasps, the weight of the fight pressing down on him as if the very air had thickened.
The creature recoiled slightly, its form shifting in the dim light, but it didn't falter. Its glowing eyes burned with renewed fury, narrowing as if taunting him. Kyrntar's heart pounded in his chest, the oppressive weight of the darkness gnawing at his resolve. He adjusted his stance, sweat dripping down his brow, and prepared for another strike, knowing the longer this dragged on, the more likely the shadow would overwhelm them.
But the shadow remained—a towering mass of swirling blackness, each strike seemingly absorbed into its endless depths, offering no sign of weakening.
The shadow creature's laugh echoed through the chamber, low and guttural, like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm. It was a sound that seemed to seep from the very stone around them, carrying with it an ancient malice. The voice that followed was a rasping whisper, like the creak of old bones or the wind howling through a desolate graveyard.
"Fools," it hissed, each word dripping with contempt. "You cannot wound that which has long since slipped beyond the reach of the living. Your strength is nothing against the void."
The air seemed to darken further as the words lingered, the weight of their meaning sinking into the hearts of all who heard them. It was a warning—a promise—that they faced something far beyond mortal reckoning.
Kyrntar's jaw clenched. "We'll see about that."
Behind him, Edric loosed another arrow, his voice tense. "Any bright ideas on how we're supposed to fight a shadow?"
Marra's eyes darted between the shadow and Kyrntar, her hands glowing brighter as she prepared a healing spell. "Kyrntar, try channeling the light—you've trained for this."
Kyrntar nodded, a new determination filling him. He reached deep within, calling on the holy energy he had honed during his years of training. His greatsword began to glow faintly, a light that cut through the oppressive darkness. With a battle cry, he swung the sword once more, this time the radiant energy slicing into the shadow with a crackling hiss. The creature recoiled, its form flickering as if the light was burning it.
"That's it," Kyrntar said through gritted teeth. "Edric, Marra—keep at it. We can beat this."