The battle had left the land in ruins. The Herald of the Void was temporarily pushed back, but the ripple effects of its presence still lingered. The sky above them remained cracked, an endless chasm of darkness, like an open wound in the world. There was no sun—only the distant glimmer of stars that seemed to be swallowed by the expanding blackness. The earth trembled beneath their feet as the remnants of the battle still coursed through the land like a lingering fever.
Reazeal stood at the center of the devastation, breathing heavily. His armor was scorched, his face marked with the signs of battle, but he didn't feel any relief. Despite their victory in pushing the Herald back, the victory felt hollow. The very world around them was unraveling. The Herald's words echoed in his mind, haunting him: You are nothing but mortals. This world will be undone.
Lysara stood beside him, her sword still glowing with a faint, ethereal light. Her eyes were tired, but they held a fire that refused to be extinguished. "We can't stop here," she said, her voice firm, though it carried an edge of uncertainty. "That thing is still out there. The Herald isn't gone; it's just biding its time."
Reazeal nodded, turning his gaze toward the distant horizon where the darkness seemed to bleed into the very fabric of the sky. The Void had claimed part of the world, a chilling reminder that this was only the beginning. "We can't let it rebuild itself. We need to strike again—now."
But as he spoke, a new presence made itself known. The ground beneath them cracked open once again, sending up splinters of rock and debris. A dark figure emerged from the shattered earth, its form cloaked in shadow. Unlike the Herald, this creature had no grandiose form—it was a mass of shifting darkness, an entity that seemed to flow like liquid shadow. Its eyes, if they could even be called eyes, gleamed with an unnatural red glow.
It was not a mere messenger of the Void—it was a harbinger.
"We don't have time to waste," Reazeal muttered, his grip on Duskcarve tightening. His thoughts were racing. The Herald had only been the beginning of the storm. Something worse was coming, something far darker than they could have imagined.
The creature before them spoke in a voice that was a cacophony of whispers, like a thousand voices overlapping each other. "Foolish mortals. You have only delayed the inevitable. The Herald is but a fragment of what is to come. You will fall. This world will be consumed."
Before Reazeal or Lysara could respond, the creature lunged forward with terrifying speed, its form blurring as it moved. Reazeal barely managed to raise Duskcarve in time to deflect a tendril of shadow that shot out like a spear. The impact sent him stumbling back, his feet dragging across the broken earth. The power behind the creature's attack was immense—this wasn't a fight they could win with sheer strength alone.
"Stay back!" Lysara shouted, but before she could react, the shadow creature reached for her, tendrils of darkness wrapping around her wrist, pulling her toward it with unrelenting force.
Reazeal's heart skipped a beat. "Lysara!"
He moved to help, but the creature twisted its shadow, forming an impenetrable wall between them. Reazeal's mind raced. He could feel the power of the Beasts stirring within him, a restless force that beckoned him to embrace it fully. To unleash everything he had. But something held him back. This wasn't just about power—it was about control. He couldn't lose himself, not when they had only just started to understand what they were up against.
Lysara's struggle against the tendrils was futile. She couldn't break free, and as the shadows wrapped tighter around her, she gasped for breath, her grip on her sword slipping. "Reazeal… I can't… hold it…"
"I won't let you fall!" Reazeal roared. His voice was raw, fueled by desperation. His mind snapped into focus, the swirling chaos of the battle falling away as he turned to face the creature. His eyes burned with determination. The shadows surrounding Lysara were not just a physical restraint—they were a manifestation of the Void's power. And if there was one thing Reazeal knew, it was how to fight against that.
In one fluid motion, he raised Duskcarve high, channeling the power of the Beasts that simmered beneath his skin. The blade crackled with energy, glowing with a fierce light that seemed to push back the darkness around them. He stepped forward, his movements graceful and precise, a calm determination settling over him. He knew what he had to do. This was no longer a fight for survival—it was a fight for the future of the world.
With a cry, Reazeal swung the blade downward, unleashing a shockwave of light and raw energy. The beam of power tore through the darkness, slicing through the tendrils that held Lysara captive, and sending the creature staggering back. The ground beneath them cracked open, as if the world itself was resisting the force of his strike.
Lysara fell to the ground, gasping for breath, but she didn't hesitate for long. In an instant, she was back on her feet, her sword ready. "Nice move," she said, flashing a brief, strained smile. "But we're not done yet."
The creature hissed in fury, its shadowy form warping and twisting in a maddening display of anger. It reared back, its body expanding, and in an instant, it released a flood of darkness that shot outward like a tidal wave. The energy surged forward with such force that the ground trembled beneath their feet, the very air distorting as the shadows rushed toward them.
Reazeal raised his sword to defend, but the wave was overwhelming. He felt the weight of it pressing down on him, crushing the air from his lungs. The darkness was suffocating, pulling at his mind, tugging him into the Void. For a moment, he felt the pull of despair—an echo of the Herald's words. He was nothing. They were nothing. But then, something snapped within him.
"No," Reazeal muttered. "I will not let this happen."
With a roar, he poured every ounce of energy into Duskcarve, the sword glowing brighter than ever before. The light burned through the shadows, creating a path through the encroaching darkness. Lysara's sword flared with the same intensity, and together, their weapons formed a shield of light that deflected the wave.
The creature screeched, recoiling from the light as if it had been burned. It lashed out, but Reazeal and Lysara were ready. They moved in unison, striking at the creature with precision and power. Their swords cut through the shadow, each blow pushing the creature back until it staggered, its form flickering.
Reazeal's pulse raced as he felt the power of the Beasts surge within him. The creature was weakening. They were close to breaking it. But Reazeal knew that this was only one battle in a much larger war. The Herald wasn't the end of the Void's influence—it was just the beginning.
"We can finish this," Reazeal said through gritted teeth, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.
Lysara nodded. "We have to."
With one final, coordinated strike, they both slashed through the creature's form, the combined force of their power tearing the darkness apart. The creature's form collapsed into nothingness, dissolving into shadows that evaporated into the air, leaving only a faint trace of smoke behind.
But even as they stood victorious, Reazeal's heart sank. The sky above them was still shattered, the darkness still looming, and the threat of the Void had not been erased. It was only a matter of time before the next wave came, and when it did, they would need more than just their strength to survive.
Reazeal turned to Lysara, his eyes hardening with determination. "We can't wait for it to come to us. We need to take the fight to the Void itself."
Lysara nodded solemnly. "Agreed. Whatever comes next, we face it head-on."
The world around them was breaking, and time was running out. But they would not stand idly by. Not while there was still a chance to save it.
End of Chapter 26.