The passageway ahead was long and narrow, the air dense with an unshakable sense of foreboding. The stone walls pulsed faintly, as if alive, their surfaces etched with runes that seemed to shift under the dim glow of Vaelen's staff.
Emberfang padded ahead, his ears swiveling at the faintest sound. His low growl reverberated through the corridor. Drakar placed a hand on the beast's back, feeling the tension rippling through his muscles.
"Stay sharp," Drakar murmured.
Taronis adjusted his shield, his gaze scanning the ceiling above. "It feels like the walls are closing in."
Elara moved closer, her frost blade casting a soft glow. "This place was designed to unsettle intruders. Every step feels like it's trying to drown you in shadows."
Vaelen's voice was quiet but steady. "The Dral'Thar were masters of fear. Their stronghold was meant to be a reflection of their belief—breaking the mind before the body."
Seris's dagger twirled in her hand as she whispered, "Well, they're going to be disappointed."
The Hall of Forgotten Names
The passageway opened into a vast hall, its ceiling lost in shadow. Obsidian pillars lined the chamber, each carved with hundreds of names in a language older than the mortal races. An eerie blue light seeped from the cracks in the floor, illuminating the worn carvings.
Vaelen ran his fingers across one of the pillars, his expression distant. "These are the names of the fallen. Soldiers, leaders, even innocent bystanders from the old war. They were all absorbed into the Dral'Thar's legacy."
Kaelen knelt by one of the cracks, peering into the faint light below. "They're not just memorials... they're warnings."
Elara's frost blade hummed as she scanned the hall. "What are they warning us about?"
A cold whisper drifted through the hall. The voice was faint but chilling, like a memory carried on the wind. Turn back... or become another name.
The ground trembled, and from the shadows between the pillars emerged ghostly figures—warriors draped in spectral chains, their faces blurred and hollow. Their weapons, though translucent, gleamed with a deadly sheen.
Taronis raised his shield, stepping forward. "Defensive line! Don't let them surround us!"
Battle in the Hall
The first specter lunged, its chains rattling like the toll of a mourning bell. Drakar met its charge with a fierce strike, his ember-forged dagger blazing as it cut through the spectral form. The creature let out a hollow wail before dispersing into motes of light.
Elara spun gracefully, her frost blade arcing in a wide slash that froze three specters mid-strike. She shattered them with a single follow-up blow, the ice scattering across the floor.
Kaelen's arrows flew true, striking down the specters before they could close in. His movements were precise, his expression calm but fierce. "They're stronger than the last ones."
Seris darted between the pillars, her daggers flashing like twin streaks of silver. She drove one blade into a specter's core and twisted, dissolving its form in an explosion of shadow. "But they're still beatable."
Vaelen's staff flared with light as he raised it high. Runes swirled around him, forming a protective barrier that pushed back the encroaching specters. "Focus on disrupting their forms! Don't let them reform!"
Emberfang pounced on a larger specter clad in spectral plate, his claws raking through the ghostly armor. The creature thrashed, but Emberfang's jaws clamped down with unrelenting force.
Drakar fought with relentless precision, his dagger slicing through another specter. His tattoos flared brighter with each strike, emberlight trailing behind his every move. He felt the weight of the Codex's prophecy pressing on him but didn't falter.
Shattering the Echoes
One by one, the specters fell, their forms unraveling in bursts of pale light. The hall grew quiet again, though the whispers of the names on the pillars lingered like an unspoken warning.
Vaelen's breathing was labored as he lowered his staff. "This place doesn't just test our strength—it tests our resolve."
Elara wiped frost from her blade. "We're not here to be broken."
Drakar approached one of the pillars, running his hand over the carved names. "These names... they deserved more than this fate." He clenched his fist, the emberlight dimming for a moment. "We won't let their story end here."
The Door of Chains
At the far end of the hall stood another door, this one bound with interwoven chains of shadow and silver. The chains pulsed faintly, their hum resonating with the chamber's energy.
Vaelen stepped forward, studying the intricate bindings. "This seal is different—woven with shadow-forged oaths. Breaking it will require more than magic."
Taronis stepped beside him. "Then what do we need?"
Vaelen's gaze darkened. "A vow. A promise strong enough to sever the bonds."
Drakar's emberlit eyes met Vaelen's. "Then I'll make that vow."
Vaelen nodded solemnly. "Speak it, and mean every word."
Drakar stepped closer to the door, his voice steady. "I vow that the names bound here will not be forgotten. I vow that we will forge a path beyond fear and shadow."
The chains trembled, cracks forming along their surface. The runes on the door flared one last time before shattering. The door creaked open, revealing a spiral descent bathed in a faint, red glow.
Elara placed a hand on Drakar's shoulder. "You've given them peace."
Drakar nodded, his resolve unshaken. "And we'll give the world hope."
The group moved forward once more, their steps resolute. The shadows ahead rippled as if aware of their approach, but the warriors of Aerthas pressed on, determined to see the fight through.