The journey to the next shard took them through a dense, twisted forest, the trees gnarled and blackened as if burned by some ancient fire. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the ground was littered with the remains of those who had ventured too far into the forest's depths.
Kael walked in silence, the weight of the shards heavy in his pack. He could feel their power, a constant hum that seemed to resonate with the cursed chain around his wrist. It was a reminder of the burden he carried—and the danger it posed.
Lyra walked beside him, her blade at the ready. "You've been quiet," she said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Something on your mind?"
Kael hesitated. "I just… I don't know if I can control this," he admitted, holding up the chain. "Every time I use it, it feels like it's taking a piece of me."
Lyra's expression softened. "Power always comes at a cost," she said. "But it's how you use it that matters."
Eryndor, walking ahead, glanced back at them. "We're close," they said, their voice cutting through the tension. "The next shard is hidden in a village—or what's left of it."
The village was a ghost town, its buildings crumbling and its streets empty. But as they ventured deeper, they realized it wasn't abandoned. The villagers were there, their eyes hollow and their movements jerky, as if controlled by some unseen force.
"What's wrong with them?" Kael asked, his voice low.
"The shard," Eryndor said. "Its power has corrupted them, twisting their minds and bodies."
As they approached the village square, they found the shard—embedded in the chest of a massive, grotesque creature, its body a twisted amalgamation of flesh and stone. The villagers surrounded it, their hollow eyes fixed on the trio.
The battle was unlike any they had faced before. The creature was relentless, its attacks fueled by the shard's power. The villagers, controlled by the shard, attacked in waves, their movements unnaturally fast and precise.
Kael's chain flared, its dark energy driving back the villagers, but the creature was another matter. It seemed immune to their attacks, its body regenerating almost instantly. It was only when Lyra managed to strike the shard, dislodging it from the creature's chest, that they gained the upper hand.
As the creature crumbled, Kael grabbed the shard, its power surging through him. But the victory was bittersweet. The villagers, freed from the shard's control, collapsed, their bodies unable to withstand the corruption.
Kael stared at the shard in his hand, his expression grim. "This power… it's destroying everything it touches."
Eryndor placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's why we need to stop Drakthar. If he gets his hands on these shards, the entire world will suffer."
Kael nodded, his resolve hardening. But as they left the village, he couldn't shake the feeling that Eryndor was hiding something—something that could change everything.