Chapter 49: Shattered Domain
The Revenant struck first.
Its remaining arms lashed out at Ravi from an impossible angle, claws slicing the air like black steel scythes. Blood ran freely from Ravi's palms, but he didn't loosen his grip on the stolen bony sword. The silver blade thrummed in Waker's hands, blazing with a golden light that hummed with condensed essence.
Ravi stepped into the strike instead of getting away from it, twisting the stolen blade to trap one claw in its jagged guard. The impact jolted through his bones, but he held, his focus narrowing until nothing existed except the Revenant's mask.
Waker lunged. Golden essence roared along the silver blade, its edge hungry to unleash.
The Revenant tried to retreat into the crimson mist, but Ravi drove Revenant's bony-sword into its shoulder joint, pinning it in place like an insect under glass.
He'd figured out its trick — the Revenant could merge into the red mist, but only alone. Physical contact was an anchor that create hindrance. His role was simple: hold it, no matter what, so Waker could end it.
Waker's blade finally struck its target.
The silver edge found the fracture in the mask with a screech like stone grinding on steel. Golden threads of light ripped through the black surface, bursting outward. The Revenant screamed — no more whispers now, but a guttural, inhuman wail that made the crimson fog tremble.
It thrashed violently, hurling Ravi aside. He hit the ground hard, coughing blood, but his eyes stayed locked on the mask.
The fracture spread. Once. Twice.
Then the mask shattered, shards spinning into the mist. Beneath it was no face, no mouth — only a writhing void, a tear in the world itself, from which countless shadowed hands reached outward.
A shockwave erupted.
The world turned sideways as they were flung like rag dolls. The stadium floor split, black stone folding in on itself as the crimson fog was dragged toward the void. And then … silence.
The Revenant was gone, its presence lingering like a curse in the air.
Waker staggered up, silver sword still in hand. "Tell me that thing is dead."
Ravi wiped blood from his mouth, his hand brushing the dark sigil at his neck. "Yes," he said grimly. "It's finished—"
Right at that moment, the ground started rumbling.
From the pit where the Revenant had stood, something massive rose — a skeletal tower of bone and shadow. It looked like a ribcage reaching toward the sky, and inside it hung a massive, beating crystal, suspended by chains of fog.
Waker groaned. "Not again."
They raised their guard, expecting an attack. But nothing came. The tower stood silent, the crystal pulsing like a heart. The dozens of torches igniting in sequence with violet flame, lighting the perimeter, started extinguishing rapidly.
Behind them, the arena wall melted into darkness, revealing a long obsidian stairway winding upward into shadows.
"Think it leads out?" Waker asked.
"Or somewhere worse," Ravi replied, not taking his eyes off the tower. They chose not to find out anything about the bony tower, and dashed for the stairs.
Halfway up, Waker said, "Got anything motivational for me?"
Ravi was silent for a moment, leaving a bloody trail on the steps. Then he said evenly,
"In my village, we say: if you find yourself alive in the morning, don't expect to see the evening. And if you live to evening, don't expect to see the morning ..."
Waker sighed. "Congratulations — you've unlocked the title of Reverse Motivational Speaker."
"... You should always be grateful," Ravi continued, voice low. "And hasten to do good deeds before you're overtaken by one of the seven afflictions … poverty that blinds devotion, wealth that corrupts, disease that cripples, senility that unravels the mind, sudden death, Ad-Dajjal—the worst expected absent—or the Hour itself, bitter and final. Our Messenger of Allah ﷺ said this."
Waker didn't reply after that. Both men climbed in silence, whispering the first Qul as they went.
At the top, they stepped into another stadium — larger, darker, utterly empty, except something at its center. The stands stretched endlessly into blackness. At the center, a pale blue spotlight appearing from a lone figure. Due to the blue lightning that cracked faintly around the figure.
It wore a black hood, face hidden. On the hood's back glowed the crimson emblem of a twin-sting scorpion.
Waker raised the silver blade. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't speak. It only raised a gloved hand … and pointed at Ravi.
A cold voice echoed in Ravi's mind:
"Where is the heart of the Dusk-Dragon? ... Y-You ... "