They moved with quiet urgency now, the faint vibrations in the stone floor growing with every step. Whatever ancient force lay beneath the Spire had been disturbed—and it was no longer content to sleep.
Eren's boots crunched over shattered tiles. "Whatever that thing was… there might be more."
"There are more," Kael replied, his voice calm but heavy with certainty. "I could feel them. Not just creatures — memories. Hatred baked into stone. They're older than the kingdom. Older than Velaryn itself."
"You felt that?" Isryn asked.
Kael nodded. "Something woke up when I used the Abyssal Edge. It knows my name now."
They passed through a broken gate, once golden, now tarnished and blackened. Beyond it was a vast underground atrium — the roots of the Ashen Spire itself coiled like petrified arteries across the walls and ceiling. At the center stood a withered tree. Leafless. Dead. And yet… humming with dormant power.
Kael approached, steps slow, cautious.
"This is it," whispered Isryn. "The Ashen Root. They said the tree was just legend — a manifestation of fire magic before the Old Kingdom fell."
"It's not legend," Kael said. "It's alive."
The tree's bark pulsed faintly with a dull red glow.
Then, without warning, a sigil beneath the soil flared to life.
Out of the ground rose armored figures — skeletal, but draped in molten steel. They bore halberds made of obsidian and flame, and their eyes burned like twin suns in hollow sockets.
Ashen Sentinels. Guardians of the Root.
"They're not going to let us pass," Pyra growled.
"Then we cut a path," Kael said, drawing his sword with a hiss.
The Sentinels moved in eerie unison — silent, coordinated, deadly.
Kael launched forward, his aura exploding outward like a storm. His blade sang with a crimson edge as he cleaved the first Sentinel clean through the helm — molten sparks spraying across the stone.
"Crimson Vortex!"
He spun, unleashing a spiraling wave of red lightning, knocking two more off balance.
Pyra followed with a furious roar, tackling one of the Sentinels with her burning fists. Each strike melted through armor — the creature screamed in silence before crumbling to ash.
Isryn stood back, weaving a shield around Eren and Darric as they loosed bolts and blades into the fray.
Another Sentinel swung its halberd at Kael, but he ducked and countered with a rising strike — cleaving through its spine.
"Ashes to ashes," Kael muttered, stepping through the vaporized remains.
More kept coming.
Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.
Darric shouted, "There's no end to them!"
"Yes there is," Kael said. "The Root."
Without hesitation, he broke formation and sprinted toward the withered tree, dodging wild strikes and flame bursts. One of the Sentinels leapt in his path.
Kael didn't stop.
He ducked low and whispered: "Veilbreaker."
The blade split the creature in half with a flash of red light, and Kael drove onward.
Reaching the Ashen Root, he thrust his palm against the bark.
The sigil beneath him reacted violently — exploding upward in a pillar of fire and force. The Sentinels shrieked and staggered.
Kael's aura surged — a vortex of red-black lightning tearing through the cavern.
And then — silence.
One by one, the Sentinels disintegrated into fine dust, leaving only the dead tree and its wielder standing.
Kael stepped back, hand steaming. "It's done."
The Root dimmed. Whatever power had lingered in it was now gone — transferred, perhaps, into something… or someone.
Darric blinked. "You just bound with the heart of the Spire…"
Kael's eyes, once crimson, now had streaks of black within them.
"I think it bound with me," he replied.
From above, a tremor shook the earth. Dust and stone rained down.
They had won a battle.
But the world was shifting.
And someone — or something — had taken notice.