Chapter 28: The Legion's Wrath
The heart of the rift-tower howled with violent light, a vortex of unraveling shadow-threads spiraling into the air like coiled serpents. Cracks veined the chamber's obsidian walls, each fissure bleeding rift-glow as the unstable gate pulsed and spasmed. It was no longer a singular threshold—it had become a convergence of rifts, merging with chaotic force. From within the swirling maw, legion shadows clawed their way free, their hisses threading together into a single, terrible word—the Tyrant's will given voice.
"Now…"
The sound rang like a death knell across the chamber, reverberating through stone and soul alike. Kael stood at the very center of the warping chamber, his silhouette outlined in the purple glare of the rift-gate. Dimly glowing runes crawled along his limbs and torso, etched pain pulsing with every beat of his heart. The Echo Blade seared against his bones. Blood crusted his cheek, his breathing was ragged, and his right arm trembled under the weight of the technique. Yet he stood—anchored.
Beside him stood his team, unbroken.
Gavyn's stance was wide, his massive spear grounded, bracing like a fortress wall. His eyes were fixed on the gate, jaw tight, sweat dripping from his temple. "Bloody hells," he muttered, voice like gravel beneath the storm. "You sure the Forge wouldn't melt just facin' this?"
The gate pulsed again, throwing a gust of forceful heat across them. Violet energy shuddered outward like a heartbeat too big for its vessel. The ground beneath them shook.
Gavyn grunted. "Storm-god, what's the play?"
Kael didn't answer yet. His eyes remained locked on the vortex.
Lysa spun a silver coin across her knuckles, a flash of steel catching in the fractured light. Her grin was all teeth—sharp, cutting. "We bankrupt 'em," she said with a flick. "Thread-weaver's racked up debts saving our asses. Time we cashed in."
Kael's lips twitched at the edge.
Maraen stood slightly behind, her silver hair rippling in the gate's hot wind. The locket around her neck shimmered with a pale azure glow—soft, serene, an island of calm in the chaos. She looked at Kael, eyes clear, voice steady.
"For Moonfall," she said, and her locket flared brighter. "It's breaking through."
Kael inhaled. His rune-etched arm lifted as power surged within him—threads of violet magic coiling like snakes on the verge of striking. Behind him, the ashes of Ashka's earlier manifestation still stained the stone floor, a grim reminder of the stakes.
"She sent them," Kael rasped, drawing his dagger. The blade flickered with the glow of bound threads. The Tyrant's voice grew louder in his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like barbed wire.
"Now…"
The gate ruptured with a thunderous scream.
Ten soldiers emerged, stepping forth from the rift with synchronized fury. Their forms were monstrous—Gifted-tier creatures molded from shadow-thread and infernal steel. Swords fused with claws. Armor glowed with veins of living rift-flame. They hissed in unison as they advanced.
"Kael… Die…"
Gavyn barked a laugh, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground. "Big bastards. Just my kind of welcome."
"Storm-god?" he asked, a gleam in his eye.
"Reckoning's due!" Lysa shouted, tossing her coin high. It spun through the air and caught the gate's light. "Cheap freaks better be ready to pay up!"
"For us!" Maraen cried, her locket flaring in rhythm with the gate. "We hold—cut them down!"
Kael's body blazed with fresh energy, threads aligning across his limbs. His voice cracked like a whip. "Together—hold the line!"
The legion struck.
They came with explosive speed—swords raised, flame arcing.
"Rift-Flame Barrage!" one bellowed, and a storm of violet fire surged toward them in jagged waves. The heat was immediate—stone shattered and cratered under the blast radius.
"Scatter!" Kael commanded.
He vanished—Thread Step: Phantom Blitz!—his body flickering like a ripple through air. One moment left, next right, his blurred motion chaining through a dozen teleport dashes. Rift-flame sliced behind him, missing by inches, exploding against the far wall.
Gavyn dove under a sweep of flame, rolling and driving his spear forward with a bellow. "Tide's Fang!" The weapon shimmered blue, water-runes flaring as it pierced through one soldier's leg. Black ichor hissed out.
Lysa rolled into a crouch, four coins flicked in perfect rhythm. "Eat this!" Merchant's Reckoning!—each coin burst midair into a scattershot of compressed kinetic magic. One arc of flame was shattered completely, the rest thrown off course.
"Hold fast!" Maraen called, her locket shielding the team's flank with a rippling shimmer that softened the storm's edge.
Kael landed behind a soldier—runes pulsing, body pivoting—Thread Dance: Tempest Cascade! Twelve spectral threads whipped outward in a spiral. They struck two soldiers square in the chest, rending shadow-thread from bone, forcing them to stagger backward, fraying.
"Too slow!" came a rasping hiss as a third lunged toward him, claws igniting—Shadow-Thread Slash!—jagged violet tendrils tore through the air.
"Pin it!" Gavyn roared.
His spear struck the attacker's arm, shattering its joint. "Gotcha!"
Kael spun—Thread Wall: Reflecting Tempest! A circular barrier of spinning threads rose around him, catching the enemy's strike. With a flash, the redirected shards exploded into the attacker's chest, cracking armor.
"Back off!" Kael shouted, flickering once more—Phantom Blitz!—appearing behind the dazed soldier.
Rune Thread: Echo Blade! His dagger flared, threads binding the blade's edge. With a single thrust, it pierced the creature's core—ash exploded, leaving nothing behind.
"Three down!" he said, breath tight.
"Good trade!" Lysa answered, flinging coins with precise grace—bursts exploded across the fourth soldier's flank, armor cracking like a clay shell.
The fifth stepped forward, blades fusing into one massive crossbow-arm. "Rift-Ash Volley!" Shadow-orbs rained down from the air.
"Incoming!" Maraen warned, raising her locket—its shimmer curved wide, blocking half of the barrage.
Kael flicked his fingers—Rune Reset: Blink Strike!—his body rewound five seconds of motion, slipping behind a shadow-thread lash he hadn't seen.
Chains whipped from the gate—Shadow-Thread Bind!—aiming to entrap him.
"Close call…" he growled, vanishing mid-air—Phantom Blitz! He passed through the bind, Gavyn meeting the foe mid-motion with a brutal thrust.
"Take that!" he grunted, the spear pinning the enemy's leg.
Another soldier surged forward. "Rift-Flame Crescent!" A wide flaming arc lashed outward.
Kael gritted his teeth—Rune Pulse: Weaver's Wrath! Threads doubled, flaring to life—Tempest Cascade! His swirling threads met the arc in a titanic crash, flame and light consuming the chamber.
"Hold it!" Lysa snapped, her coins bursting against the creature's blade—"Cheap shot!"
Gavyn used the opening to drive his spear straight through the soldier's chest—ash sprayed wide as it fell.
"Halfway!" Kael shouted, chest heaving. The gate pulsed again—more shadows stirring.
Seven soldiers lunged together, their attacks coordinated—Shadow-Thread Lash! Chains cracked through the air like lightning.
"Need more power!" Kael growled. His runes surged—threads curled around his soul.
Thread Dance: Nightmare Lash! From deep within him, spectral strands burst forth—these were no ordinary threads. They came from Soul Reaper—Kael's forbidden technique. The threads struck a soldier's chest, not just rending—but draining. The creature's hiss turned into a choking gasp.
"Bloody hells, that's new!" Gavyn shouted, stabbing an eighth through the chest.
Kael flickered again—Phantom Blitz!—closing distance.
"Nightmare Lash!" he cried, threads whipping with soul-draining fury. The enemy convulsed, then exploded into ash.
"Eight!" he barked.
Lysa's coins flew in a precise arc—"Bankrupt 'em!"—one burst cracked the ninth's armor at the shoulder. Maraen's shimmer held a claw-strike back with divine resistance.
Then the tenth stepped forward, a leader among them, body reinforced. Its claws twisted together.
"Rift-Ash Barrage!" it howled—shadow-orbs rained down in a deadly storm.
"Together!" Kael cried, raising his blade—Weaver's Wrath! Threads doubled, Nightmare Lash activated once more—an ethereal storm of energy slashed outward.
Gavyn was already there. "Tide's end!" he roared, driving his spear into the monster's leg.
Lysa's coins ricocheted into the creature's torso—"Pay the price!"
Maraen held her shimmer—"Rest now!"
Kael vanished and reappeared beneath the creature.
Echo Blade: Shatter Strike!
He stabbed upward, his dagger glowing. Threads unraveled the monster from within—ash exploded, and the final soldier fell.
Silence returned, thick and ragged.
Kael staggered back, chest rising and falling in broken rhythm. His runes dimmed, energy spent. Blood dripped down his side, his arm throbbed—Nightmare Lash had cost him more than he could afford.
"Strongest yet," Gavyn muttered, clapping a hand to Kael's shoulder. "Storm-god's a damn terror."
Lysa's smirk returned. "Reckoning's paid. I owe you a drink."
Maraen smiled faintly. "Moonfall's light lives in you. Thank you."
Kael's runes flickered again, faint light struggling to hold.
The Tyrant's voice returned.
"Now…"
The gate pulsed once more, rifts coalescing into a single swirling mass.
"Ashka's wrath comes next," Kael said grimly. Shadows clawed again—something larger stirred.
Gavyn rolled his shoulders, spear steady. "Forge's hot. We're in."
Lysa twirled another coin, eyes gleaming. "Debt's mine too. Don't hog it."
"For all of us," Maraen whispered, her locket glowing steadily. "You're our king, Kael."
Kael looked at them. Gavyn's unwavering stance, Lysa's sharp defiance, Maraen's calm strength. His hand gripped the Echo Blade, and his spine straightened.
"Together," he said, voice iron. "This gate's the end."
Beyond them, the Ashen Wastes stretched—a fractured, cursed land with more battles to come.
But they stood now as one—unbroken, undefeated—ready to face the Hollowborn's storm.