Chereads / The Cursed Legacy of Eldergloom / Chapter 14 - Spectral Battle

Chapter 14 - Spectral Battle

The battle in the heart of Wraithwood was a symphony of chaos and defiance. Aric's breath came in ragged gasps as he sidestepped the spectral figure's next swipe. Its movements were fluid, almost graceful, and it glided through the clearing as if propelled by the wind itself. The shadows that had lurked on the edges now surged forward, their vague shapes coalescing into clawed, writhing monstrosities.

"Lina, on your left!" Aric shouted, bringing his blade around to parry a second attack. Sparks erupted as metal met spectral force, the shock of it reverberating through his already weary limbs. Lina spun in response, ducking beneath a lunging shadow creature and driving her dagger upward in a single, sharp motion. The beast dissipated with a shriek, its form unraveling into threads of darkness.

"They're everywhere," Ryn gasped, backpedaling as two smaller shadow-creatures snapped at his heels. He swung his lantern in a wide arc, the flame blazing bright enough to push them back. The light seemed to wound them, but only temporarily; they reformed seconds later, more feral than before.

Thom was holding his ground a few paces behind, eyes narrowed with a focus Aric had only seen in moments of desperation. He muttered an incantation under his breath, fingers weaving through the air as if manipulating invisible strings. The runes on the obelisk responded, their glow pulsing faster, flickering with each syllable. The ground trembled, fissures splitting the earth as a surge of energy crackled between the stones.

"It's working!" Thom shouted, eyes wide with the thrill of it. But before he could utter another word, a shadow creature—larger than the rest—lunged at him, its body an amalgamation of writhing tendrils. Its roar drowned out all other sound.

Aric's heart seized in his chest. "Thom, get down!" But Thom, lost in the momentum of his spell, didn't move fast enough. The creature's weight bore down on him, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending the journal skittering across the clearing.

"No!" Lina's scream was sharp with fury. She sprinted forward, leaping onto the creature's back and plunging her dagger into what she hoped was its core. Black ichor splattered across her arm, burning where it touched skin. The creature reared, shrieking as it twisted, and Lina tumbled off, hitting the ground hard.

Ryn moved instinctively, hurling his lantern at the shadow-monstrosity. The glass shattered, and flame erupted over the creature, bathing it in an orange inferno. It writhed, the fire searing its dark tendrils into nothingness. The other shadows hissed and recoiled, momentarily subdued by the blaze.

Aric took the opportunity to grab Thom's fallen journal. The pages were open to a sketch of the obelisk and a hastily written note: *The binding is in blood, the release in sacrifice.* His pulse thundered in his ears.

"Lina," he called, voice strained. She pushed herself up, eyes glistening with pain but alive with defiance. "The runes—they need blood!"

Understanding flickered across her face. Without hesitation, she moved to the obelisk, pressing her wounded arm against the carvings. The stone drank deep, the glowing runes shifting from a cool blue to an ominous crimson.

The spectral figure let out a keening wail, its skeletal form writhing as if in agony. It turned its burning eyes to Aric, who met its gaze with an unwavering stare. This was the fulcrum, he realized—the moment that would decide if they would survive or be lost to the forest's darkness.

"Hold the line!" Aric shouted, charging forward with renewed determination. His blade cut through shadow, the metal slicing cleanly as if finding new strength in the blood-soaked runes.

Thom, staggering to his feet, joined in with a hoarse battle cry. He drew a small, curved blade from his belt and slashed at the smaller shadows encroaching on Lina. Each cut sent a ripple through the air, the creatures shuddering as if tethered to the magic coursing through the clearing.

Ryn darted past Aric, reclaiming a fallen torch and igniting it from the smoldering remnants of his lantern. He drove it into the chest of a shadow-creature, watching as it shrieked and disintegrated in a burst of embers.

The obelisk's light blazed brighter, casting long, fractured shadows that danced wildly across the clearing. The ground shook again, more violently this time. Cracks splintered outward from the obelisk, and an ominous rumble grew beneath their feet.

The spectral figure advanced one final time, its form shifting and churning, now cloaked in an aura of dark flames. Aric gritted his teeth, charging to meet it. The impact sent a shockwave that radiated through the clearing, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the obelisk exploded in a cascade of crimson light. The force threw them all to the ground, pain lancing through Aric's body as he collided with the earth. For a moment, there was only silence—the heavy, suffocating kind that follows catastrophe.

Aric lifted his head, vision blurred and ears ringing. The shadow creatures had vanished, their forms dissipated into trails of smoke. The spectral figure was gone, leaving only the charred remnants of its cloak fluttering like dying embers.

Lina's voice broke through the silence. "Aric," she whispered, a note of hope threading through the exhaustion. He turned to see her slumped against the now-blackened obelisk, blood trailing from her arm but eyes steady.

"It's over," Thom rasped, collapsing onto his back with a relieved laugh that quickly turned into a groan.

Ryn, ever the cautious one, glanced around the clearing, half-expecting another wave of shadows. But only the soft rustle of leaves in the wind answered him.

For the first time in days, Wraithwood was silent.