The figures that emerged from the forest were unlike anything Caelum had ever seen. They were not fully human, nor were they entirely made of shadow. They were something in between—spectral beings, bound to the will of the cult and the Shadow King. Their eyes burned with a cold, predatory hunger, and their every movement seemed to ripple with dark energy.
Caelum drew his sword, the Shadowforge Blade humming in his hand. He could feel its power surging through him, its curse urging him to strike, to destroy, to claim victory at any cost.
But a part of him resisted. A small, stubborn part that refused to give in to the darkness. He looked at Lyra and Alara, both of whom had already drawn their weapons, ready to fight.
"We're not alone in this," Lyra said, her voice steady despite the danger. "We'll face them together."
Alara nodded, her eyes flashing with determination. "We've come too far to back down now."
Caelum's grip on the sword tightened. The shadow figures closed in on them, their movements swift and relentless. There was no time for hesitation. They were surrounded, but they weren't going to give up without a fight.
With a battle cry, Caelum lunged forward, his sword slicing through the nearest shadow. It shrieked in pain, dissipating into a cloud of dark mist before it could strike. But there were more—many more. And with every shadow that fell, two more seemed to rise in its place.
The battle was on, and there would be no turning back.