WALLACE GARRET

Dust clouds swirled through the air, carrying with them anguished cries that echoed across the expansive battleground. My gaze remained fixed upon the tumultuous scene unfolding before me, where a multitude of Paladins engaged in a relentless struggle against an overwhelming horde of void creatures. The scope of this conflict was vast, befitting the grandeur of this expansive limbo.

Our surroundings bore an otherworldly aspect, marked by towering peaks and modest hillocks, their peculiar and rosy-hued contours exuding an enigmatic aura. I occupied the flat pinnacle of the largest mountain, encircled by a faint mist that enveloped both myself and the combatants locked in a desperate confrontation below.

Standing at my side was Kabir, his eyes shut in an apparent state of heightened perception. Abruptly, his gaze snapped open, and his colossal bow materialised as though summoned by his will. My astonishment was surpassed only by my curiosity as he drew back the seemingly empty bowstring, conjuring a majestic silver arrow into existence.

With a resounding release, the arrow soared forth in a supersonic streak that cleaved through the air like a bullet. My bewilderment deepened, for the arrow seemed suspended in the very fabric of time, its trajectory frozen in an inexplicable stasis.

An enigmatic figure materialised into view, his measured footsteps defying the urgency of the battlefield. A divided top hat adorned his head, while a monocle, gilded in gold, shielded one of his deep grey eyes. His visage was an almost sculptural mask, the contours of his countenance eerily immobile. Draped in a black tailcoat exuding an air of refined elegance, he emanated an aura of sophistication.

Recognition dawned upon me, prompted by Nebeus’ prior revelation. This was Zlamaos, the enigmatic Keeper of Time.

Yet my immediate concern shifted as an icy trickle of sweat traced my brow. His stealth had thwarted even my keen senses. Were it not for Kabir’s vigilance, we might have fallen prey to an ambush that could have sealed our fate. This was the potency of a Voidkeeper, a force transcending even that of a mere Voidshade.

"I had hoped to conclude matters before my presence graced your awareness. The capabilities of the inaugural Herald have clearly exceeded my initial estimation," Zlamaos observed, his voice an embodiment of tranquilly.

In an instant, a sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he fixed his gaze on me. "So, Wallace, you have managed to endure. The gathering of paladins here elucidates your purpose. Serendipity has granted me an opportunity to eliminate two threats to our order in a single stroke," he concluded, his words laced with an undertone of calculated intent.

In an instant, I could picture him in front of me, a keen silver cane poised to cut off my skull. He came in front of me as if time had stopped. As the cane approached my head, a ripple formed, and my figure vanished, entering a higher dimension.

I knew he couldn’t finish me off in his realm of Zen time. It was because my influence on Sol had surpassed a particular threshold. This was also true for Kabir.

The closer he got to me, the more likely it was that his powers would become unstable owing to my influence on him subconsciously fighting his own. This is also why I was not able to destabilise the space where he stood. In a conflict between mighty beings, their powers would be dulled.

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Emerging from this ethereal state, I reappeared suspended in midair, descending with a controlled grace while seamlessly transitioning into the second phase of spatial manipulation.

This advanced technique empowered me to weave intricate threads within the very fabric of space, conjuring ethereal constructs known as "spatial anomalies." These transient creations, fleeting mirages of real objects, dissipated quickly as the fabric of space recognised their artificial nature.

Because of the nature of these anomalies, they overlapped with genuine space, making their existence impossible and the space surrounding them unstable. Anyone who touched these or entered that place would have his body split into any number of halves, or his blood would be separated from his body, as though they were warping unnaturally. Then everything went back to normal, and they died instantaneously.

With precise intent, I crafted a translucent cage, a spatial anomaly, ensnaring Zlamaos and gradually constricting it to seal his fate.

However, his demeanour remained composed, a faint smile playing upon his lips as the anomaly dissolved into the surrounding atmosphere. A swift realisation struck me: he had manipulated time’s flow, hastening the anomaly’s correction to negate its impact.

Zlamaos’s eyes widened as he emerged a few feet behind him while I made this conclusion. An arrow suddenly appeared where he was standing. Kabir had taken the initiative!

But before Zlamaos could even breathe, another arrow fired towards him at supersonic speed, but because of Zlamaos’s influence, this arrow seemed to slow down as time was slowed down for it. Zlamaos took it in his hand and examined it. Zlamaos’s eyes widened in disbelief, and terror crept over him as he attempted to throw the arrow, but the arrow melted and changed to a silvery liquid, which spread to his palm.

Zlamaos’s hand rapidly transformed into a pallid, icy appendage, a layer of frost enveloping his once-vital flesh. The very life force within his veins seemed to succumb to an unrelenting cold, drained of its natural warmth.

The First Herald wielded the strength of the most formidable kind, a third-phase "heat" weaver. His mastery over this domain allowed him to leverage the principles of thermodynamics to his advantage, exerting dominion over the thermal energy surrounding him.

The arrow’s metamorphosis into liquid underlines this power, as he manipulated matter’s states through precise heat control. The liquid form facilitated Kabir’s influence, freezing Zlamaos’s hand in place through his thermal prowess.

"I’ve clearly underestimated both of you. It’s time to cease underestimation!" Zlamaos bellowed, casting an eerie stillness over the surroundings.

All sound waned, the clash of battles fading to silence. Void creatures and paladins alike froze, time itself arresting as though the world had been paused. Within this temporal pocket, only Kabir, the Keeper of Time, and I retained movement. Our command over sol staved off the time-stilling effect, saving us from its grasp.

"This realm is mine to command. I am its sovereign ruler!" Zlamaos roared, engaging both the First Herald and me in combat. A deft manoeuvre of his head narrowly dodged my weapon’s warping trajectory aimed at decapitation.

Concurrently, he deftly sidestepped Kabir’s arrow onslaught. His weapon, a cane of authority, clashed resoundingly with my protective, morphing weapon. It attacked from myriad angles, forcing me to retreat, my abdomen seeping blood from the onslaught I could not fully repel.

Struggling for breath, I exchanged a glance with Kabir. His armour corroded under Zlamaos’s temporal influence, as if it had endured centuries of existence in mere moments. Similarly, my frigid weapon seemed to dissolve, its once-icy surface now emitting an intense, radiant glow.

Zlamaos, too, bore the marks of our struggle. Kabir’s arrows played havoc on his thermal equilibrium. Certain patches of his flesh boiled and blistered, while others solidified, their pallor turning to an ashen hue.

Our combined efforts held a tenuous equilibrium against a voidkeeper. Yet, the precipice of defeat lurked; a single fatal blow from Zlamaos was enough to unmake our resistance. I had no recourse but to reach for the dormant power lingering within me, embracing it as a last resort. Though my command over this force remained unrefined, necessity drove me to harness its potency at this dire juncture.

[The hidden blessing "Nelchael’s Eyes" has been invoked.]