The clash of blades echoed through the night, sending waves of energy rippling through the forest. Kalen gritted his teeth as the leader of the Abyssal Sect pressed his attack, each strike faster and more powerful than the last. The man’s blade was a whirlwind of dark energy, pulsing with the overwhelming might of the void.

Kalen’s body screamed in protest, every muscle strained to its limit as he parried and dodged. The leader wasn’t just fast—he was precise, calculating. Every movement was designed to wear Kalen down, to force him into a mistake.

But Kalen had trained for this. He had spent weeks mastering the techniques of the Abyssal Sect, perfecting his balance between icefire and void energy. This was his test, the moment to see if he could truly control the power he had stolen.

The leader lunged again, his sword a blur of black energy. Kalen sidestepped the attack, his movements fluid and precise, and retaliated with a strike of his own. His sword, blazing with cold fire, cut through the air with deadly accuracy.

For a brief moment, Kalen’s blade met flesh. The leader snarled in pain, but the wound was shallow, barely more than a scratch. Kalen knew it wouldn’t be enough. The man’s cultivation was too deep, too entwined with the Abyss for such a strike to matter.

“You fight well,” the leader growled, his eyes glowing with the dark energy of the void. “But you’re still just a novice playing with forces beyond your control.”

Kalen didn’t reply. Words wouldn’t win this battle. He had to focus, to find the opening he needed to strike a decisive blow. His mind raced, analyzing the leader’s movements, searching for a weakness.

The two circled each other, their weapons raised, each waiting for the other to make a move. The forest around them was still, the air thick with tension. Then, without warning, the leader vanished, his body merging with the shadows.

Kalen’s heart raced. He had seen this technique before—the Shroud of Oblivion, a method of blending completely into the void, rendering the user invisible to both sight and spiritual senses. It was one of the most dangerous techniques in the Abyssal Sect’s arsenal.

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But Kalen had prepared for this. He had studied the Shroud, and he knew its limitations. It was powerful, yes, but it wasn’t perfect. The user’s Qi signature would still leave faint ripples in the void, traces that could be detected by someone with a keen enough sense.

Kalen closed his eyes, shutting out the distractions around him. He slowed his breathing, reaching out with his senses, searching for the faint disturbance in the void that would reveal the leader’s position.

There.

Kalen’s eyes snapped open, his body moving instinctively. He swung his sword in a wide arc, the cold flames of his icefire burning brightly as they sliced through the air.

The leader reappeared, his eyes wide with shock as Kalen’s blade cut through his side. Blood sprayed from the wound, dark and thick, tainted with the energy of the Abyss. The leader staggered back, clutching his side, but Kalen didn’t give him a chance to recover.

With a roar, Kalen surged forward, his sword a blur of icefire and void energy. The leader raised his blade to block, but Kalen’s attack was relentless. Each strike came faster than the last, the cold flames of his icefire burning with an intensity that rivaled the dark energy of the void.

The leader’s defenses crumbled under the onslaught. His eyes flickered with desperation as Kalen’s blade broke through his guard, slashing across his chest and sending him crashing to the ground.

Kalen stood over him, his sword raised for the final strike. The leader’s breathing was ragged, his body trembling from the strain of battle. But his eyes still burned with defiance.

“You think this is over?” the leader rasped, blood dripping from his lips. “The Abyss is eternal. You may kill me, but the void will never stop hunting you.”

Kalen hesitated, his sword hovering inches from the leader’s throat. The man’s words rang with truth. The Abyss was vast, its reach far beyond the remnants of the sect Kalen had encountered. Even if he killed the leader, there would be others. More powerful enemies who would come for him, drawn by the same power he had stolen.

But Kalen had made his choice. He had embraced the Abyss, but he would not be its slave.

“I don’t need to stop the void,” Kalen said, his voice calm and steady. “I only need to control it.”

With a single, swift motion, Kalen brought his sword down. The leader’s body went still, his eyes glazing over as the last remnants of his life drained away.

Kalen stood over the corpse for a moment, his breathing heavy, his heart pounding in his chest. The battle was over, but the war was just beginning. The Abyss had taken notice of him, and it wouldn’t rest until it claimed him.

But Kalen wasn’t afraid.

He turned, walking away from the battlefield, his sword still glowing with the remnants of his icefire Qi. He had faced the Abyss and survived. He had taken its power, and now he would use it to carve his own path.

The storm was coming, and Kalen would be ready