The moon hung high in the sky, casting pale light over the dense forest as Elion and Lira moved deeper into enemy territory. Their path was silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Despite the quiet, tension hung thick between them. Each step felt calculated, as if at any moment, the fragile alliance might shatter, and they would turn their blades on one another.
Elion kept his eyes forward, but his thoughts never left the woman beside him. Lira walked with a deceptive ease, her posture relaxed, though he could feel the subtle hum of Essence pulsing from her. She was powerful, that much was clear. More than that, she was dangerous, as cunning and ruthless as he was. The fact that she had followed him through the forest, unseen and undetected, was proof of that.
Yet despite the danger she posed, Elion found himself intrigued. She had clearly been watching him for longer than he had realized, tracking not just the soldiers but him as well. What was her true goal? Was it really the vault, or was there something more? Regardless, it didn’t matter. She was an obstacle, and like all others before her, she would be removed when the time came.
For now, they had a common purpose.
“We’re close,” Lira said suddenly, her voice breaking the silence. She was still walking beside him, her movements fluid and effortless, as if the weight of the situation didn’t affect her at all. “The vault is hidden within a series of ancient catacombs, deep underground. I’ve scouted the area. We’ll need to be careful—there are traps, and likely other seekers after the treasure.”
Elion nodded, though he said nothing in response. He had no intention of sharing any more information with her than was necessary. She might think they were allies, but Elion knew better. This was nothing more than a means to an end. He had played this game before—befriending enemies, using them for his own purposes, then discarding them when they were no longer of use.
As they continued walking, Elion’s mind drifted back to the Blackstone Ring. It had grown stronger with every death, every drop of blood spilled. Its power pulsed through him, dark and intoxicating, whispering promises of more. He could feel the souls of the soldiers he had slain still lingering in the ring’s depths, their energy feeding him, amplifying his Essence.
And soon, he would have even more. The vault was said to hold ancient relics of power, objects that could grant their wielder strength beyond imagination. If Elion could claim it for himself, there would be nothing left to stop him.
The trees began to thin, and soon they emerged into a clearing. In the center stood a massive stone structure, half buried in the earth and covered in thick vines. It was ancient, the markings on its surface worn by time, though faint runes still glimmered in the moonlight. The entrance to the catacombs.
Lira stopped beside him, her eyes scanning the area. “This is it,” she said softly. “The entrance is sealed by magic. We’ll need to work together to break through.”
Elion’s lips curled into a cold smile. “I doubt it’s as simple as just opening a door.”
Lira smirked. “It never is.”
They approached the stone structure cautiously, each of them on edge, senses sharp for any sign of danger. The runes on the entrance pulsed faintly with an eerie glow, warning them of the powerful magic that lay ahead.
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“I’ve already studied the seal,” Lira said, kneeling beside the entrance. “It’s complex but not unbreakable. The problem is that it’s tied to the surrounding traps. If we break it incorrectly, we’ll trigger the defenses.”
Elion knelt beside her, examining the runes with narrowed eyes. He could feel the Essence woven into the stone, a complex web of ancient spells designed to keep out intruders. But Elion had studied similar magic before. He knew how to dismantle it.
“Stand back,” he said quietly, his fingers already moving over the runes.
Lira raised an eyebrow but did as he said, taking a step back. Elion’s fingers traced the ancient symbols, his Essence flowing into the stone. The seal resisted at first, but with every pulse of dark energy he fed into it, the resistance began to weaken. Slowly, the runes dimmed, their glow fading into nothingness.
The ground rumbled beneath them, and the stone door creaked open, revealing a dark staircase leading down into the earth.
Lira looked impressed. “Not bad.”
Elion didn’t respond. He stood, his eyes fixed on the entrance, his mind already calculating the next steps. He knew the vault wouldn’t be unguarded. There would be traps, enemies—perhaps even other cultivators already searching for the same prize.
Without a word, he began descending the stairs, Lira following close behind. The air grew colder the deeper they went, the oppressive weight of the underground pressing in around them. The stone walls were damp, the sound of dripping water echoing through the narrow corridor.
As they reached the bottom, the corridor widened into a large, open chamber. At its center stood a massive stone altar, surrounded by a series of intricate runes carved into the floor. The air was thick with Essence, the power of the vault palpable.
But something was wrong.
Elion’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. The altar was untouched, but the air felt wrong, as if something had disturbed the natural flow of energy in the chamber. He could feel it—a subtle but undeniable disturbance in the Essence around them.
Lira seemed to sense it too. Her hand moved to the dagger at her side, her eyes darting around the room. “We’re not alone,” she whispered.
Elion didn’t need her to tell him that. He could feel it—the presence of others, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Suddenly, the room was filled with movement. Figures emerged from the darkness, cloaked in black, their faces hidden beneath hoods. There were at least six of them, each one armed and radiating powerful Essence.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” Lira muttered, drawing her dagger.
Elion’s hand went to the Blackstone Ring, his fingers tightening around it as he summoned its dark power. The ring pulsed with energy, feeding him strength as the first of the attackers lunged toward him.
With a flick of his wrist, Elion released a surge of Death Essence, a dark wave of energy that slammed into the nearest attacker. The man crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing as his life force was drained from him, his soul absorbed by the ring.
Another attacker rushed toward Lira, but she was ready, her movements swift and precise. She dodged his blade with ease, her dagger flashing out in a quick, lethal strike that left the man clutching his throat as blood poured from the wound.
Elion’s eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction as he turned to face the remaining attackers. They hesitated, clearly unnerved by the ease with which he and Lira had dispatched their comrades. But hesitation was fatal.
With a snarl, Elion unleashed another wave of dark magic, his Essence wrapping around the attackers like a suffocating shroud. They struggled, gasping for air as their life force was ripped from them, their bodies crumpling to the ground, lifeless husks.
Lira stood beside him, her breathing steady, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of battle. “Efficient,” she remarked, wiping the blood from her dagger.
Elion didn’t respond. His focus was on the altar, the dark energy within it pulsing stronger now that the room was clear of enemies. He approached it slowly, his eyes fixed on the object resting at its center—a small, obsidian orb, pulsing with raw, unfiltered Essence.
The vault’s treasure.
He reached out to take it, but as his fingers brushed the surface, the air around him exploded with energy. The runes on the floor flared to life, the ground beneath them shaking violently.
“Elion!” Lira shouted, backing away as the chamber began to collapse around them.
Elion cursed under his breath, his hand still grasping the orb. He could feel its power, but the moment he touched it, the entire structure had reacted. It was a trap—a final defense to prevent anyone from claiming the prize.
He didn’t hesitate. With a surge of power, he shattered the orb’s protective casing, releasing the Essence within. It surged through him, raw and untamed, threatening to tear him apart, but Elion held firm, absorbing its energy.
The chamber continued to crumble, stones falling from the ceiling as the ground cracked beneath their feet. Lira was already moving toward the exit, her eyes wide with panic. “We need to get out of here!”
Elion clenched his fists, feeling the newfound power coursing through his veins. He had what he came for. Without another word, he turned and followed Lira, the two of them racing up the stairs as the catacombs collapsed behind them.
They barely made it out as the entrance caved in, sealing the vault—and whatever secrets it had held—forever.
Panting, Lira turned to Elion, her eyes filled with a mixture of awe and suspicion. “What the hell was that? You triggered the entire place!”
Elion smirked, his eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction. “I got what I came for.”
Lira’s gaze flicked to the obsidian orb in his hand, still faintly pulsing with dark