Xel'thar surged forward, his reptilian features illuminated by the flickering light of the spectral army's magic. His claws flexed, his predatory instincts sharpening as he led the charge toward the source of the Macab's corruption. Kalem and Isolde followed, their weapons drawn, each step pushing them closer to the heart of the disturbance.
The assassins, realizing the tide had turned against them, grew desperate. Their carefully laid plan was unraveling—Baudric's spectral knights had neutralized the civilians, and now, the city's forces were closing in.
"Push the Macab to its limit," the strike leader snarled. His voice carried through the shadows like a blade. "If we fall, we take them with us!"
Dark mana flared as the assassins enacted their final gambit.
The air grew thick with the scent of burning ozone, the very foundation of the city trembling beneath their feet. Shadows twisted unnaturally, warping into grotesque shapes. The magic that had been subtly manipulating minds now lashed out wildly, untethered and enraged.
Kalem's vision blurred as the distortion intensified. The world around him became disjointed—flickering between reality and hallucination. One moment he saw the battlefield, the next he was surrounded by the ruins of a city long forgotten, bodies crumbling to dust at his feet.
A trick. A powerful one.
Kalem ground his teeth, forcing his mind to focus. His focus core burned hot in his chest, its mana cycling rapidly to counteract the Macab's influence. His free hand pressed against his temple as he reinforced his mental defenses.
"Kalem—!" Isolde's voice cut through the haze.
He snapped back to reality just in time to deflect an incoming strike. An assassin lunged at him, twin daggers gleaming with cursed mana. Kalem's resonance blade hummed as he parried, the sheer force of his swing cleaving through both weapons and sending the assassin staggering back.
"You're still standing?" The assassin's voice wavered with disbelief.
Kalem exhaled sharply. "You'll wish I wasn't."
His remaining floating swords whirled around him, their sharp edges glinting in the chaotic light. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them forward, impaling his foe before the assassin could react.
Nearby, Isolde was locked in a brutal clash. Her Glacial Greatsword gleamed with an icy aura as she cut through her enemies, freezing their weapons upon contact. One assassin managed to slip past her defenses, aiming a dagger at her throat—
Clang!
Xel'thar intercepted the attack with his armored forearm, his scaled skin barely scratched. With a deep growl, he retaliated, his claws raking across the assassin's chest. The unfortunate enemy barely had time to scream before being tossed aside like a ragdoll.
But then—the city itself shuddered.
The Macab's energy, pushed past its threshold, collapsed in on itself. The swirling dark mana surged outward in an explosion of chaotic force. Buildings cracked. Windows shattered. The sky overhead darkened as spectral screams echoed from the heart of the disturbance.
Kalem barely had time to brace himself before a wave of corrupt energy slammed into him. Even with his defenses, it felt like a thousand voices clawing at his mind, trying to drag him into oblivion.
Then, light.
Valdris and Gregor had moved into position, standing at opposite ends of the city square. Their voices rang in unison as they wove their high-tier sealing spell.
Ancient glyphs formed in the air around them, shimmering golden as they interlocked like puzzle pieces. The spell coiled around the city like a vast net, pulling the rampant dark magic inward.
The assassins, still linked to the Macab's power, screamed as the backlash hit them. Some fell to their knees, clutching their heads, while others simply collapsed, their bodies unable to withstand the strain.
Xel'thar exhaled, his breath coming out in a visible burst of heat. "That's our cue."
Kalem and Isolde exchanged a glance—then moved.
With their strength restored, they descended upon the remaining assassins.
Kalem's swords wove through the air in a deadly dance, each strike precise, every movement optimized for efficiency. He moved like a phantom, weaving between enemies, cutting them down before they could react.
Isolde, by contrast, was a force of destruction. Her greatsword cleaved through bodies and weapons alike, leaving behind frozen statues where enemies once stood. She fought without hesitation, her blade an extension of her will.
Xel'thar crushed an assassin's arm in his clawed grip before driving his knee into the man's ribcage. The assassin gasped—then fell limp.
The last few assassins, realizing their fate, attempted to flee—only to be intercepted by spectral knights who dragged them to the ground.
Within minutes, it was over.
The darkness in the air dissipated. The city fell into silence.
Kalem exhaled, his grip on his weapons finally loosening. "That… was messy."
Isolde ran a hand through her hair, still catching her breath. "No kidding."
From above, Baudric's voice rang out. "The seal is holding! The Macab is contained!"
Valdris nodded, dusting off his cloak. "Then it's over."
Xel'thar let out a satisfied growl. "Good. Now, let's see who these fools were working for."
As the spectral knights began rounding up the surviving assassins, Kalem couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
The city was safe—for now. But someone had orchestrated this.
And he intended to find out who.