The days following Kael's training were a blur of preparation. The Obsidian Altar thrummed faintly with energy as its power began to rebuild, drawing strength from the surrounding Abyssal presence. Yet the Sovereign's warnings lingered in the air like an unspoken truth—war was inevitable.
Kael stood at the edge of the altar, staring at the distant horizon. The barren wasteland seemed endless, yet he knew enemies were drawing closer. His grip on the broken sword tightened. It no longer felt like a simple blade—it hummed faintly with his Qi, a connection forged through hours of grueling practice.
Behind him, the Sovereign watched in silence, his arms crossed. "You feel it, don't you?" he said, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Kael turned, meeting his master's glowing crimson eyes. "Feel what?"
"The pull of the Abyss," the Sovereign said, stepping forward. "It is not content to wait. It hungers for growth, for dominance. And so do our enemies."
Kael swallowed hard. "Do you think they're already coming?"
"They are," the Sovereign replied, his tone calm but firm. "The Emberlight Clan will not leave us in peace. They see the rekindling of the altar as a threat, and rightly so. They will come, and when they do, we will show them the power of the Dominion."
Kael nodded, though his hands trembled slightly. "I'll be ready."
The Sovereign's gaze softened slightly. "You are progressing, Kael, but readiness is not a state of being—it is a choice. In the face of death, will you falter, or will you act? That is the question you must answer."
A Visitor in the Shadows
As night fell, the faint glow of the Obsidian Altar cast long shadows across the stone. The Sovereign stood at its center, his gaze distant as he focused on the altar's energy. Kael sat nearby, sharpening his blade as best as he could with a jagged stone. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of the altar.
Then, without warning, a voice cut through the stillness.
"Well, well. The rumors were true."
Kael jumped to his feet, gripping his sword tightly. A figure emerged from the shadows, draped in a tattered cloak that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. Their face was obscured by a mask, but their aura was undeniable—strong, confident, and laced with an undercurrent of danger.
The Sovereign turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Who are you, and why have you come?"
The figure chuckled, their voice low and smooth. "A fair question. I am called Sylas, though names mean little where I come from. What matters is that I've been watching you, Sovereign of the Netherborn Dominion."
Kael frowned, his grip on his sword tightening. "How do you know who we are?"
Sylas tilted their head. "Oh, the stories of your return are spreading fast, child. The rekindling of the Obsidian Altar has not gone unnoticed. There are those who fear it, and those who... see opportunity."
The Sovereign's eyes narrowed. "And which are you?"
"An admirer, perhaps," Sylas said, stepping closer. "I have no love for the Emberlight Clan. Their arrogance blinds them to the truth of this world. And you... you are something far more interesting."
Kael stepped forward, his blade raised. "If you're here to cause trouble—"
Sylas held up a hand, a faint shimmer of Qi crackling around their fingers. "Calm yourself, boy. If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."
"Enough," the Sovereign said, his voice cutting through the tension. He stepped forward, his presence commanding. "If you have come to speak, then speak. Otherwise, leave."
Sylas chuckled again, inclining their head. "Very well. I come with a warning—and an offer."
The Sovereign's expression remained neutral. "Speak."
The Warning
Sylas gestured toward the horizon. "The Emberlight Clan has grown impatient. They're no longer sending scouts or small raiding parties. They're preparing for a full assault. Their forces will be here within days."
Kael's heart sank. "How do you know this?"
Sylas shrugged. "Let's just say I have my ways. But you don't need to take my word for it. You'll see the fires of their encampments soon enough."
The Sovereign's expression didn't waver. "And your offer?"
Sylas stepped closer, their aura brushing against the edges of the Sovereign's own. "I offer my services. I've walked many paths, learned many arts. I can fight, I can spy, and most importantly, I can teach."
Kael glared at Sylas. "Why would you want to help us?"
Sylas chuckled softly. "Because I see potential here. The Netherborn Dominion has the power to shake the foundations of this world, and I want to see how far it can go. Besides, aligning myself with you is far more interesting than groveling to sects like Emberlight."
The Sovereign regarded Sylas for a long moment, his crimson eyes unblinking. Finally, he spoke. "Very well. You may stay, for now. But know this—if you betray us, you will wish for death long before it comes."
Sylas inclined their head again. "Fair enough. I wouldn't expect anything less."
Preparing the Altar
The following days were a flurry of activity. Under the Sovereign's guidance, Kael and Sylas worked tirelessly to fortify the Obsidian Altar. The Sovereign drew upon the faint remnants of the Abyssal energy, channeling it into defensive wards that surrounded the altar with an aura of forbidding darkness. Sylas, true to their word, proved to be an invaluable ally. Their knowledge of combat and strategy rivaled even the Sovereign's, and they began teaching Kael techniques that complemented his growing mastery of dark Qi.
Kael found himself both frustrated and awed by Sylas's expertise. They moved with a fluidity and precision that made every motion seem effortless, and their ability to adapt to the Sovereign's teachings was uncanny.
"Your strikes are too rigid," Sylas said one afternoon, stepping behind Kael as he practiced with his blade. "The Abyss isn't about control—it's about fluidity. Let your Qi guide your movements, not the other way around."
Kael gritted his teeth but adjusted his stance, focusing on the flow of his Qi. When he struck again, the blade hummed with power, sending a ripple of dark energy through the air.
"Better," Sylas said with a nod. "You might survive this after all."
The Calm Before the Storm
As night fell on the third day, the Sovereign stood atop the altar, his gaze fixed on the horizon. In the distance, faint orange lights flickered—the fires of the Emberlight Clan's encampments.
"They're close," Sylas said, stepping up beside him. "Do you think we're ready?"
The Sovereign's lips curled into a faint smile. "Readiness is irrelevant. The Abyss hungers, and we will feed it."
Kael joined them, his expression a mixture of fear and determination. "What's the plan?"
The Sovereign turned, his crimson eyes burning with intensity. "We fight. We kill. And when the dust settles, the world will know that the Dominion has returned."
As the first rays of dawn began to pierce the gray skies, the three figures stood together, their shadows stretching long across the altar. The battle was coming, and the Dominion would face it as one.
End of Chapter 6