The trail wound deeper into the woods, the air thick with the damp scent of moss and old rain. Eryndor's footsteps were silent, save for the occasional crack of a twig beneath his boots. Kaelith followed a few paces behind, her eyes darting between the shadows.
"South ridge is closer than I thought," she said quietly.
Eryndor didn't respond. His focus lay ahead, where faint glimmers of firelight flickered through the trees. The King's Blades weren't far now.
He crouched low, signaling for Kaelith to stop. From their vantage point, they could see the camp below—a cluster of five figures in silver-lined armor, their swords polished to an unnatural gleam even in the dark.
"They're ready for trouble," Kaelith whispered.
Eryndor's cursed arm flared, sending blue sparks dancing down his fingertips. He winced but kept his expression calm.
"They wouldn't be here if they didn't expect it," he replied. His eyes narrowed. "Look there."
At the center of the camp lay a stone box, ancient and covered in faint etchings. It pulsed faintly, as if breathing.
Kaelith's face paled. "A relic… but not just any relic. That's older than the capital itself."
Eryndor rose slowly, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.
"They're trying to open it."
One of the Blades knelt beside the box, tracing the runes with his gloved hand. His lips moved silently in an incantation that Eryndor recognized all too well.
A binding spell.
Kaelith tensed. "If they break that seal, it'll release whatever's inside."
Eryndor exhaled through his nose. "That's what I'm counting on."
Kaelith shot him a glare. "This isn't a game, Eryndor. If that thing inside wakes up, the veil will spread faster than we can stop it."
"I know," he said. "But I'm not letting them walk away with it."
Before Kaelith could protest, Eryndor stepped into the clearing.
The Blades reacted instantly. Swords were drawn, and the fire crackled in the sudden rush of movement.
"Relic hunter," one of the Blades growled, leveling his blade at Eryndor's chest. "Turn back."
Eryndor's eyes flicked to the stone box, then back to the Blades. His cursed arm pulsed brighter, and the glow reflected in their armor.
"I'm here for that relic," Eryndor said calmly.
The lead Blade stepped forward, his face hidden beneath his silver helm. "Then you'll have to take it from us."
Eryndor drew his sword, the black runes along the blade humming to life.
"I was hoping you'd say that."