Kael stood firm as the Forsworn warriors surged forward, their eyes glowing red with the power bestowed upon them by Mehrunes Dagon. The deep warhorn still echoed through the valley, signaling their advance. At their rear, a twisted figure loomed—a Hagraven, her gnarled staff raised high, crackling with dark energy. She cackled, her voice shrill, as she chanted an incantation in a guttural, ancient tongue.
Kael didn’t have time to decipher her words. He knew exactly what he needed to do.
With a deep breath, he burned duralumin with steel.
The effect was instant.
His body felt like it was going to rip itself apart as he pushed outward. In a split second, every ounce of force he could push around him, surged outward. A bag of coins strapped to his belt shot forward like a storm of deadly projectiles, streaking through the ranks of the Forsworn. The first wave of warriors was torn apart, the force of the impact sending their lifeless bodies crashing to the ground. The sheer velocity of the attack sent limbs flying, red mist filling the air as the steel-infused barrage cut down nearly a dozen foes in an instant.
The remaining Forsworn barely flinched. Empowered by Dagon’s blessing, they rushed toward Kael with renewed fury, their weapons glowing faintly with an unnatural red hue. They weren’t just mindless raiders anymore; they were enhanced warriors, stronger and more vicious than ever before.
Kael didn’t retreat.
He flared pewter, his body surging with strength, and pushed off a discarded axe embedded in the dirt. The force sent him rocketing forward, his sword flashing as he struck the nearest enemy. The Forsworn warrior tried to block, but Kael’s enhanced strength shattered his weapon upon impact, his blade cutting clean through the man’s chest. He landed lightly on his feet, already spinning to face the next attacker.
A massive Forsworn wielding a warhammer charged at him, the weapon raised high. Kael reacted in a blur, burning a steel metalmind for speed, sidestepping the downward swing just as the ground exploded from the sheer force of the impact. Before the warrior could recover, Kael tapped his iron reserves, increasing his weight for a split second as he drove his boot into the man’s chest. The Forsworn was sent flying backward, crashing into his allies.
Another warrior lunged at Kael’s back, but he burned tin, sharpening his senses. He heard the shift of the man’s foot on gravel, the sharp intake of breath before the strike. Kael twisted mid-motion, steel-pushing against the metal studs in the Forsworn’s armor, sending the warrior stumbling forward. With a quick, brutal slash, Kael severed his head clean from his shoulders.
The Hagraven shrieked in frustration, her bony fingers weaving a spell. Flames erupted from her staff, streaking toward Kael like a living inferno. Feeling the searing heat brush past him, the fire scorching the ground where he had stood.
He needed to get to her. Now.
Kael reached into his pack and pulled out 2 steel beads, swallowing both quickly. He burned duralumin again—this time flaring one of his steel beads to its maximum limit.
The battlefield erupted in chaos.
Every piece of metal around him—discarded weapons, armor fragments, even the weapons still in the Forsworn’s hands—became a force of destruction. Kael pushed outward with everything he had, sending a storm of metal in all directions. Spears and swords impaled warriors before they could react, axes were ripped from their grips and turned against them.
The Hagraven staggered backward, screeching as she raised a magical ward to deflect the onslaught. But Kael wasn’t done. He tapped his pewter reserves, enhancing his strength to unnatural levels, and steel-pushed off the ground (using the other steel bead) with a force that sent him flying straight at her.
The Hagraven barely had time to react before Kael’s sword came down.
She screeched, raising her staff to block the blow. The impact shattered the weapon, sending shards of wood and bone scattering. Kael didn’t stop—he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. The grotesque creature clawed at his arm, hissing in rage, but Kael was unyielding.
He pulled out a dagger from his belt.
“For the innocent people you killed,” he muttered coldly.
And then he drove the dagger straight into the Hagraven’s heart.
The shriek that followed was deafening, an unholy wail that seemed to pierce the very air. The moment her body went limp, the red glow in the eyes of the remaining Forsworn warriors flickered with doubt. Some of them faltered mid-motion.
Kael didn’t waste the opportunity.
He launched himself back into the fray, cutting down the remaining warriors with brutal efficiency. Those who still had the will to fight were overwhelmed in seconds, their strength no match for Kael’s speed and precision. Those who realized their power had faded turned to flee, but Kael steel-pushed himself forward, cutting them down before they could escape.
Within minutes, the battlefield was silent.
Kael stood amidst the carnage, his breathing ragged. His metal reserves were running dangerously low, his body aching from the sheer exertion of the fight. But he had won.
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Behind him, the villagers had reached the gates of Markarth. The guards on the walls had seen the battle unfold and now rushed out to meet the survivors, ushering them into the safety of the city.
Kael barely had time to process the aftermath of the battle before a strange sensation gripped him. He stood among the carnage, the Forsworn bodies lying still and lifeless, their glowing red eyes finally extinguished. The only sounds were the distant voices of the Markarth guards helping the villagers into the city and the howling wind rushing through the valley.
Then the air shifted.
A deep, unnatural hum vibrated through the battlefield, resonating in Kael’s bones. His body tensed as he turned slightly, sensing something was terribly wrong. Without warning, a swirling mass of crimson energy rose from the fallen Forsworn, their lifeless forms releasing the power that had once fueled them. The energy coalesced above them, writhing like a living storm, its presence oppressive and seething with malevolence.
Kael barely had time to react before the energy surged forward.
A wave of searing pain exploded in his chest as the red essence slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. His vision blurred, his body convulsing as an unbearable heat coursed through his veins. It was as if his very soul was being set aflame, twisted and reshaped by an unseen force.
Then everything went black.
Kael opened his eyes to find himself in a place that was not the battlefield.
He stood on an immense plane of cracked, obsidian ground, stretching endlessly in all directions. The sky above was a swirling inferno of red and black, the clouds boiling with unseen fury. The air itself was thick with the scent of smoke and sulfur, oppressive and suffocating.
A voice rumbled from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"So this is the mortal who dares to interfere with my will?"
The ground trembled beneath Kael’s feet, the sheer weight of the voice pressing down on his mind like an iron vice. He clenched his fists, his breath heavy as he steadied himself. The voice was unlike anything he had ever heard—deep, resonant, and filled with a terrible authority that made the very air vibrate.
A towering figure materialized before him.
Mehrunes Dagon.
The Daedric Prince of Destruction stood before Kael in all his terrifying glory—four muscular arms wreathed in fire, crimson skin like molten rock, and eyes that burned with endless malice. The air crackled with raw power as Dagon’s form radiated an aura of pure chaos, his gaze locked onto Kael with amused contempt.
"You have done well to amuse me, mortal," Dagon said, his voice reverberating across the void. "But you tread where you do not belong."
Kael gritted his teeth, ignoring the lingering pain coursing through him. He met the Prince’s gaze head-on, refusing to bow, refusing to kneel. "I fight for the innocent. I fight for those who can’t defend themselves. You and your Forsworn have slaughtered enough."
Dagon chuckled, a deep, thunderous sound that shook the very ground. "And what do you think you are, little warrior? A hero? A savior?" He sneered, stepping closer, his immense presence looming over Kael. "You are nothing but a pawn. A tool the gods will discard when you are no longer useful."
Kael tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. "You’re wrong."
Dagon’s eyes narrowed. "Am I?" He raised one of his massive hands, and suddenly, Kael was wracked with pain. Fire erupted across his body, consuming him in agony as the Daedric Prince’s will bore down upon him. "Feel the power you have denied. You could be more than this! More than a mere man playing at war! I can give you strength beyond anything you have ever known!"
Kael screamed, his vision flickering as raw destruction poured into him. The offer was intoxicating, a whisper in the back of his mind urging him to take it. He could end all of this with a single choice. He could burn the Forsworn from existence, wipe away the threat in a tide of fire and blood.
But at what cost?
Kael clenched his jaw, forcing himself to fight against the consuming force. He reached deep within himself, tapping into the core of his will, his conviction. He had seen what unchecked power did. He had seen what the Forsworn had become because they had accepted this monster’s offer. He would not be like them.
His body flared his gold metalmind, his power surging through him, countering the pain, the corruption trying to take root within him. He let out a roar, forcing the fire away, forcing Dagon’s influence from his body.
The Daedric Prince snarled, his amusement vanishing into frustration. "You dare defy me?!"
Kael took a step forward, his breath ragged but steady. "I am not your pawn. And I will see your influence torn from this world."
Dagon’s fury ignited the sky, flames roaring above as the ground cracked beneath them. "Then you will suffer, mortal. I will see to it that your defiance is repaid in kind. You will watch as your world burns."
The world around Kael began to shatter, the red sky fracturing like glass, the flames consuming everything.
And then he woke.
Kael gasped for breath as he snapped back to reality, collapsing onto the battlefield. His body ached as though he had been torn apart but his gold metalmind had stitched him back together. His vision swam but he was alive.
The swirling red energy had vanished, leaving only the dead Forsworn and the broken remnants of battle. Markarth’s walls still stood in the distance, the refugees finally safe within its gates.
He exhaled slowly, his hands trembling as he pushed himself up onto one knee.
Mehrunes Dagon knew him now.