The path to the Abyssal Shard grew more treacherous with every step. Loose rocks slid under Eryndor's boots, and the oppressive weight of the shard's energy pressed against his chest. The ember within him flared in response, its warmth pushing back against the suffocating air.
The ravine walls loomed high above, casting deep shadows that seemed to writhe with unseen movement. The faint glow of the fractured shard ahead provided just enough light to guide him, but it also cast eerie reflections on the jagged terrain, twisting the shadows into shapes that looked almost alive.
Eryndor gripped his knife tightly, the shard in his other hand pulsing faintly as he focused on the numbers it revealed. Distance to shard: 120 meters. Creatures detected: 5. Closest threat: 8 meters.
He froze. Eight meters was too close.
Eryndor scanned his surroundings, his breathing shallow. The shard's hum sharpened, directing his attention to a cluster of rocks to his left. The numbers shifted: Threat detected: Abyssal Wretch. Speed: 10 meters per second. Weak point: neck joint.
The wretch emerged from the shadows, its hunched form illuminated by the shard's faint light. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Eryndor, and its lips curled back to reveal jagged teeth.
Eryndor tightened his grip on the knife, his heart pounding. The shard's hum grew louder, feeding him information as the wretch advanced.
Terrain advantage: slope to the right. Energy levels: unstable.
He moved quickly, sidestepping onto the slope. The wretch lunged, its claws scraping against the rocks as it missed its target. Eryndor struck, driving his blade into the exposed joint at the base of its neck.
The creature howled, thrashing wildly as it collapsed. Eryndor stumbled back, his chest heaving as the shard's hum returned to a steadier rhythm.
But there was no time to rest. A guttural snarl echoed through the ravine, followed by the sound of shifting rocks. Eryndor turned to see two more wretches emerging from the shadows, their glowing eyes fixed on him.
The shard pulsed urgently, the numbers coming in quick succession: Threat level: high. Coordination level: moderate. Weak points: exposed ribs, neck joint.
The first wretch charged, faster than the last. Eryndor ducked under its swipe, slashing at its ribs as it passed. The blade struck true, and the creature stumbled, but its partner was already closing in.
Eryndor rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the second wretch's claws. He drove his knife upward, catching it under the jaw. The creature let out a strangled growl before collapsing.
The first wretch recovered, lunging again. Eryndor met it head-on, the shard guiding his movements. He feinted left, then struck right, his blade piercing its exposed ribs.
The wretch crumpled, its body twitching before going still.
Eryndor leaned against a rock, his breath ragged. His arms trembled from exertion, and his chest burned from the shard's constant pull. The ember within him flickered weakly, its energy taxed by the fight.
The shard in his hand dimmed slightly, its hum quieter now. But it still pulsed steadily, a reminder that he was close to his goal.
He looked toward the fractured Abyssal Shard, its jagged surface glowing faintly in the distance. The path was clear for now, but he knew the shard's energy would draw more creatures soon.
Eryndor wiped his knife clean, his resolve hardening. "I'm not stopping here," he muttered, pushing himself upright.
With the shard's hum guiding him and the ember burning faintly in his chest, he moved forward into the deepening shadows.