The horizon burned with darkness. Black banners rippled in winds that carried ash and the stench of war. Kael's body ached, the marks of battle burned into his chest, but there was no time to rest.
Lyra, Darric, and Isryn flanked him, their eyes scanning the distant masses. Even from here, the sheer scale of the approaching army was staggering. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers, faceless behind dark armor, moving with a chilling precision. The Voice-Eaters.
"They're… endless," Lyra whispered, gripping her bow tighter.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we'll carve a path."
The first wave struck like a tidal wall, hammers pounding, blades slicing. Kael met them head-on, Ashrend blazing crimson, arcs of black lightning snapping from his aura with each swing. Every enemy he struck shattered, their forms dissolving into shadows.
Lyra fired from above, each arrow a streak of silver, piercing through the armored ranks. Darric shielded their flank, bellowing war cries that bolstered the morale of the surviving soldiers around them.
But the Voice-Eaters did not falter. They moved as one, relentless, their advance seeming less like a march and more like the will of the Veil itself.
Kael's Crimson Mark flared uncontrollably. He leaped, spinning Ashrend in a deadly dance. "CRIMSON ASCENDANCE!"
Red flames and black lightning tore through the enemy front, carving a path through the swarm. Shadows screamed and dissipated, but more kept coming. Every strike was precise, every swing a named devastation: Sovereign Cleave, Infernal Rift, Veilbreaker Slash.
Isryn chanted alongside, her own spells flaring, binding the shadows, keeping the tide momentarily at bay. Lyra called out positions, picking off elite soldiers. Darric smashed through ranks, a living battering ram.
Kael's heart pounded. Sweat, blood, and ash coated him, but his mind was a razor's edge. With each step forward, he realized: this was not just a fight. It was a test. A crucible forged by Malrik's ambition. And he would not break.
The Voice-Eaters' general emerged, taller and darker than the rest. Its form seemed to absorb light, the Veil itself solidified into a monstrous shape. Its presence made the very ground shiver.
Kael stepped forward, Ashrend igniting hotter than ever. "Then come. Let's see if the boy of Rivenhart can fell a god-made shadow."
The army paused. The air thickened with anticipation. Then, with a roar that split the heavens, the final clash began.
Kael's companions moved with him as one, weaving a perfect coordination between sword, spell, and arrow. The battlefield became a whirlwind of light and shadow, fire and steel.
And from the heart of the Voice-Eater legions, the true trial of Kael was about to reveal itself.