They stepped into the chamber, shadows thick and unmoving, save for a single glowing crystal that floated in the center, casting an eerie light across the room. Their footsteps echoed sharply against the stone floor as they moved toward the crystal, the sense of stillness oppressive.
A chill ran up Alex’s spine—a warning. In an instant, he shoved Incognita aside.
A sudden blur, and something slashed through the air, too quick to see.
She registered the thud of something hitting the floor.
Incognita’s eyes widened, her breath hitching as she saw Alex's right arm severed and lying nearby. A blue barrier formed around them, glowing faintly in the darkness, but her gaze stayed fixed on his injury.
“Alex!” she cried, reaching out toward him. “Your arm—!”
But Alex’s eyes were already scanning the chamber, ignoring his injury. He sensed movement—a barely perceptible shimmer on the edge of the barrier. Another strike, swift as a whisper, collided against the shield, revealing a blurred, ghostly shape just for a moment before it dissolved back into the shadows.
Casually, Alex lifted his severed arm and brought it close to the stump. To Incognita’s astonishment, the two parts seemed to fuse, the flesh and sleeve, binding together seamlessly, leaving no trace of the injury. The severed arm looked as though it had never been harmed.
Incognita’s shock transformed into a hard determination. Her mind was filled with questions, but she understood that right now , this wasn’t the place nor the time. “Do you know what kind of monster we’re dealing with?” she demanded, her voice tense, as she kept her gaze on the shrouded room.
Alex’s eyes shifted, tracking the fleeting shape as it struck the barrier once more, this time from the left. The faint outline of a figure moved with impossible speed, disappearing again into the dark. He felt a prickle of dread; he knew what this was.
“A Spirit Eater,” he said, his voice grave. Myrkul’s memories surfaced. “It’s a creature born from a powerful curse—one of Myrkul’s design,” he continued, as he saw Incognita’s confused expression. She needed to understand, and quickly.
“Myrkul once had a chosen named Akachi. But Akachi betrayed him, defying the god’s laws. Myrkul marked him as False. But instead of condemning Akachi to serve in eternal judgment, he cast a worse punishment. He turned him into a vessel of endless hunger, a Spirit Eater—a creature bound to consume souls, cursed to never be satisfied.” His gaze hardened. “Akachi became a force of destruction, Myrkul’s tool to ensure his own fear and memory endured even beyond death.”
Incognita’s face hardened as the creature struck again.
“But this… this isn’t Akachi,” Alex continued. “This one is… different. A twisted mimic of the original Spirit Eater.” His words faltered as his own memories blended with Myrkul’s.
Incognita’s face paled, her gaze fixed on him as she pieced together the reality of the spirit eater’s legacy.
Alex waved his hand summoning a wall of fire around the barrier.
The spirit eater’s form solidified, shedding its previous mist-like edges until it stood as a distinctly grotesque, wraith-like figure.
Its upper face sheathed in taut, pallid skin, as though nature itself had denied it the mercy of sight. Muscular and robust, its frame resembled the brutal grace of a nightmare-born predator, every movement fluid yet weighted, exuding both power and an unnatural agility. The creature's chest heaved with silent breaths, its sinewy arms rippling with a strength that seemed ready to tear through anything—or anyone—that dared to stand before it.
Its lower face stretched into a disturbing, exaggerated grin, rows of razor-sharp, jagged teeth curving inward, each tooth glistening with a dark, wet sheen that hinted at recent, ghastly feasts. The skin covering its eyes only made it more menacing, as if it operated on pure instinct, drawn not by sight but by some primal, otherworldly hunger.
The creature’s claws were elongated and sharpened, with hands that looked almost human but for the twisted, barbed tips that seemed designed to rip through flesh and spirit alike. As it moved, it radiated an intense, unnerving silence, every twitch of its massive frame suggesting a lethal combination of power and malevolence. This was no mere monster; it was a hunter forged from shadow and nightmare, a creature that had abandoned all else in pursuit of the one, insatiable craving etched into its very being.
Alex's face hardened, his gaze fixed on the darkened chamber as the spirit eater’s blurred figure flickered around them, prowling like a predator testing its prey. He knew precisely how dangerous this creature was—how it would never cease its pursuit, driven by an insatiable hunger that left only echoes and hollowed shells behind.
Incognita looked at him, eyes searching for a plan. “Do you know how we can kill this thing, Alex?”
Alex voice was steady as he spoke. “The spirit eater can’t be killed in the usual sense. When it takes a mortal wound, it uses a stolen soul to revive itself, healing completely each time it ‘dies.’ As long as it has souls to burn, it’s… unkillable.”
Incognita’s face tightened, her grip tightening on her weapons. “So it can just keep coming back? That’s insane, Alex. If it’s immortal, then—”
“The original spirit eater was unkillable,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm, “but this is a copy—a flawed imitation. And I have a way to deal with it.”
Incognita looked at him, a flicker of doubt in her eyes.
Alex spoke, his voice unyielding. "Do not intervene. This thing will kill you in an instant. But I—" he took a slow step forward, eyes trained on the creature flickering in the shadows—"I can kill it. I’m fast enough."
Incognita bristled, her fingers curling tighter around her crossbows. "I’m fast enough, too. I can help you—"
“No,” he interrupted sharply, his gaze shifting to her. Incognita’s jaw clenched, a flicker of anger in her eyes, but she quickly pressed her lips together, holding back a retort.
And then, as she watched in silence, Alex’s form began to shift. Dark, gleaming plates grew out of his skin, coiling around him, until he was encased in it from head to toe. The plates moved with him, sinuous and terrifyingly organic, as if his very flesh had become armor. His face was now hidden beneath a faceless mask, an eerie and impassive visage that seemed to swallow light, giving no hint of the man beneath.
Fiery energy pulsed through the gaps in the armor, flowing like veins of magma, but as Incognita watched, the hue shifted, darkening to a sickly necrotic green that flickered like ghostly flames. A halo of the same green energy formed over his head, its light harsh and unearthly, and at its center hovered a single, gleaming rhomboid.
Alex turned, revealing a dark triangle emblazoned on his chest, pointing downward and surrounded by writhing necrotic flames. The sight chilled her, but what caught her attention most were his eyes—or what remained of them. Behind the faceless mask, two burning green orbs gleamed from where his eyes had been, cold and unfeeling.
As if summoned from the very air, a greatsword appeared at his side. The blade was cracked, tendrils of necrotic energy swirling along its length, filling the fissures in the steel with an unnatural, hungry light. It seemed barely contained, as if the sword itself were straining under the power it held.
Incognita took a shaky step back, feeling a surge of awe and trepidation. Whatever she was seeing, it was something beyond human—and a far cry from Alex she had come to trust. This was something forged in darkness, and she could feel the malevolent energy rolling off him in waves, tangible and raw.
"Stay back," he commanded again, his voice now a low growl resonating from within the mask, hollow and devoid of warmth. "Let me do this alone.”
For a heartbeat, she wanted to argue, to tell him that she didn’t fear death, that she could fight beside him. But the sight of him—transformed, monstrous yet resolute—silenced her protests. There was something both terrifying and sacred in his words.
As the spirit eater circled, Alex stepped forward ,grabbing the cursed greatsword with a single hand. The necrotic flames flared, casting twisted shadows across the chamber walls. He let out a breath, focusing, channeling the darkness within him.
He advanced, to the creature and out of the barrier ,each step heavy and unyielding, Incognita stood back, eyes fixed on him, heart filled with an emotion she couldn’t name. For now, all she could do was watch.
The chamber fell into silence as Alex and the spirit eater faced off. The air thrummed with tension, both combatants poised like coiled springs. In the blink of an eye, they clashed. The spirit eater lunged, its claws slicing the air as it struck with a speed and precision that defied belief. But Alex met each blow, his own speed a blur of calculated movement. His greatsword whirled, its necrotic energy crackling as it clashed against the creature’s claws, filling the chamber with thunderous echoes.
With each strike, Alex could feel the dark curse of the spirit eater—a ravenous hunger, a malevolent presence. His blade cleaved through the creature’s body, ripping through its essence. The spirit eater collapsed, writhing on the ground as a dim wisp escaped its core. But in mere seconds, it convulsed, consumed a soul, and surged back to life, whole and menacing.
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Alex didn’t hesitate. His armor pulsed as he moved, darting forward with relentless strikes. Every fatal blow forced the spirit eater to drain another soul, the creature weakening each time, as if the cost of resurrection was tearing at its very core. But as fast as Alex was, the creature’s resilience was staggering, regenerating again and again with souls that felt endless.
It was then that Alex noticed a faint glow. He turned his gaze to the crystal in the center of the room, which pulsed, releasing wisps of light. The spirit eater paused, its gaze fixed on the new souls released into the air. In a flash, it darted forward, claws tearing through the air as it devoured the souls greedily, its form regaining strength and vitality with each one.
A realization dawned on Alex: the crystal was feeding the spirit eater, a wellspring of souls it could tap into indefinitely.
Alex darted forward , the ground cracking under his steps , landing a brutal strike that sent the creature staggering. Then he turned, setting his sights on the crystal. With a burst of speed, he lunged toward it. Sensing his intent, the spirit eater shrieked and threw itself in his path, claws raking down toward him. But Alex dodged, side-stepping its attack and slashing downward with his greatsword. Necrotic energy erupted from the blade as it cleaved through the spirit eater’s chest, leaving it writhing on the floor. He knew it would revive again, but this time he wouldn’t give it the chance to regain its strength.
Ignoring the creature’s spasms, Alex sprinted toward the crystal. With a snarl, he swung his greatsword, striking the crystal dead center. A blinding flash erupted as cracks spread across its surface, spilling radiant light and spectral wisps that scattered through the room.
The spirit eater screeched, as if it could feel the source of its power slipping away. It scrambled toward the crystal, desperate to consume whatever fragments remained. But Alex was faster. He brought his greatsword down in one final, powerful strike, shattering the crystal into a thousand pieces.
The spirit eater wailed as the shards of the crystal dissolved, and the souls were freed.
Alex slowly turned to the spirit eater.
The Spirit Eater staggered back, as it sensed the sudden change in Alex—an intensity, a fearlessness that radiated from him. The creature, a being forged from curses and souls, hesitated for the first time. For a fleeting moment, it seemed almost vulnerable, backing away as if realizing that its endless hunger had finally met a force it could not consume.
But in a blink, Alex was gone from view, moving faster than a whisper. He reappeared beside the Spirit Eater, Phalar Aluve gleaming in his hand like a blade of pure vengeance. In one fluid, precise motion, he unleashed a devastating slash that cleaved the creature cleanly in two. The glowing edge of the blade sliced through its form, cutting through the very essence of its cursed being.
The creature’s halves fell apart, its severed form twitching, struggling to pull itself back together. Desperately, its dark tendrils reached for one another, but without the souls it had devoured, its strength was gone, leaving only empty, twisted shadow.
A guttural, furious scream ripped from its mouth—a scream not of defiance, but of despair, the last grasp of a creature that had known only hunger, only pain, only endless survival. The sound faded, and as it collapsed in on itself, the Spirit Eater’s body crumbled, its ash-like remains dissipating into the air, leaving only a faint trace of darkness that faded swiftly into nothingness.
Alex's gauntleted left hand shimmered with dark, necrotic energy, twisting around his arm like living shadows. The energy spiraled outward, forming a massive, clawed shape that seemed to drink in the light around it. With a swift, deliberate motion, he reached out, the claw slicing through the air with a low hum. He felt the faint resistance as his hand closed around something intangible—a struggling, darkened wisp caught in his grasp, pulsing with a dim, sinister glow.
The energy faded, leaving the wisp cupped in his open palm, shivering as though fearful of its own existence. The shadowy essence was faint but tangible, flickering as if aware of its corruption. Alex brought his other hand over it, his fingers steady as they hovered just above.
Dark smoke began to rise from the wisp as he poured a quiet strength into it, his hands radiating with a soft, healing light. The cursed shadows that clung to the soul recoiled, dissolving bit by bit, unable to resist the purifying force. The wisp trembled, its dim glow intensifying as the corruption peeled away like layers of decayed skin.
The soul grew brighter, shifting from the ominous black and red to a gentle, pure white—an immaculate glow, as though it were tasting freedom for the first time. Alex held it for a moment longer, his fingers unclenching as he let it rise. The wisp floated up, weightless and finally liberated, hovering just above his palm. It pulsed once, as if expressing gratitude, then drifted upward, dissolving into a soft light that disappeared into the chamber's shadows.
As the silence settled over the chamber once more, Alex stood amidst the scattering dust and fragments of light. He watched as the freed souls drifted upward, released from their torment. For a moment, he simply stood there, watching them vanish into the darkness.
As Phalar Aluve vanished from his grip, Alex glanced down at his hands. The power pulsing through him felt different now—darker, deeper. Though he had returned Myrkul's divinity to Jergal, Myrkul's very soul had been absorbed by the orb within his chest, granting him strength that felt almost boundless. The essence of the death god now an inextricable part of him, fueling his every move.
He turned slowly, his gaze falling on Incognita, who sat within the shimmering blue bubble he had conjured to shield her. Her eyes were fixed on him, wide with emotion. But this wasn't awe—her look was laced with frustration, mingling with a trace of something else. Fear, perhaps.
Alex took a step toward Incognita, noticing the subtle twitch of her fingers by her side, tension pooling in her posture. Without a word, his form shifted, the dark armor and pulsing necrotic glow retreating as he resumed his human shape, letting his face become unguarded and familiar. He saw her shoulders relax a fraction, but the fierce frustration in her eyes remained.
Her jaw clenched, and though her voice was low, her words cut through the quiet. “I’m supposed to be your partner, not some delicate piece of glass you shove to the side.”
For a moment, her words settled heavily between them, as stark as the pieces of the shattered crystal glimmering faintly on the floor. He could feel her gaze bearing down on him, an unspoken reminder of the promise they had made to each other. She was right, and he felt it acutely now. In his drive to protect her, he had chosen her safety over her strength, taken control instead of letting her stand by his side. And that wasn’t what she had signed up for.
He finally broke the silence, his voice gentle yet edged with resolve. “What do you say? Whatever waits for us beyond the next gates… we face it together?”
A flicker of something crossed her face—hurt, pride, a touch of acceptance. She kept her arms crossed, her jaw set, and the frustration simmered under her expression. Yet, slowly, a hint of relief softened the edges of her eyes. She nodded, her voice firm and steady. “Deal.”
After a final sweep of the dark chamber that revealed nothing worthwhile, they turned and headed back to the main hall, the echoes of their footsteps filling the silence.
----------------------------------------
“You can feed on me,” he said, his voice soft yet firm.
In the dim, echoing silence of the main chamber, Alex’s words hung heavily between them.
Incognita’s eyes shot to him, a mixture of shock and disbelief etched across her face. “Pardon me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Could you… repeat that?”
He turned to face her fully, his gaze steady, unwavering. His blue eyes locked onto her own, holding her like an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “You can feed on me,” he repeated, without hesitation.
A chill ran through her. She clenched her fists at her sides, unsure how to respond, a lifetime of restraint and fear surging to the surface. “I can’t,” she murmured, her voice thick with old memories and a haunting sense of guilt. “I don’t want to.”
In her mind, she saw flashes of that day—the first and last time she had fed on human blood. She had been so hungry, so desperate. A year without blood, a year of restraint and agony, only to finally lose control. She could still feel the man’s warmth as it drained from his body, his life snuffed out in her hands. The taste of blood haunted her, a taste mingled with shame and regret.
But Alex didn’t flinch or retreat. Instead, he slowly reached up, pulling back his hood to reveal his dark brown curls, a soft warmth in his eyes that didn’t match the horrors they’d just witnessed.
“You said you wanted to work together,” he said gently, moving a step closer to her. “If that’s true, then you need to be at full strength. I trust you.”
His closeness caught her off guard, and she took a small, instinctual step back, fear and confusion flashing across her face. She felt exposed, vulnerable under the warmth of his gaze, like he saw through every mask, every fear she hid. Yet his eyes held nothing but patience.
“I trust you,” he whispered, the tenderness in his voice breaking down the last of her defenses.
She found herself stepping forward, almost against her own will, as if she were drawn by an invisible thread. “How can you trust me?” she asked, her voice trembling. “We’ve barely known each other a day.”
Sadness darkened her gaze, memories of pain and loss flashing in her mind, of all the ways trust had been shattered before, of how her own hands had caused harm. How could he possibly understand the risk he was taking?
Alex’s gaze softened further. “Lathander told me a little about you,” he replied, his voice barely more than a murmur.
Her breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. The Morninglord. Everything she hadn’t understood began to fall into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. She had wondered why he’d insisted on her presence, why he’d seemed so certain of their partnership. And now, finally, she understood.
“The Morninglord didn’t send me here just to purge this place, did he?” she whispered, her voice laced with awe and disbelief. “He sent me here to meet you.”
Alex nodded, his gaze never leaving hers, and in that look, she felt a profound sense of purpose settle over her, one that transcended any mission or task. It was as if this moment had been fated, as though everything she had endured had led her to this very place, to this man who held out his trust as if it were a lifeline.
With a tentative hand, she reached toward him, barely grazing his arm as if afraid he might disappear, a mirage of mercy in this dark place. But he remained, unwavering.
With hesitant fingers, Incognita touched Alex’s wrist, feeling the steady, unshakable pulse beneath his skin. There was a strange stillness between them, a quiet, unspoken understanding. She lifted her gaze, searching his face for any hint of doubt, any trace of fear. But his eyes held only warmth, a patient resolve that melted the last of her defenses.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his neck, and then her fangs found their mark. As she drank, his blood flowed like nectar, rich and potent beyond anything she’d ever tasted. It pulsed with a vitality that seemed unending, surging through her like a flood of life itself. It was more than sustenance; it was power, infused with warmth and strength that made her feel as though she could face any danger, as though her own fragile edges were being reforged, piece by piece.
Time lost meaning as she drank, her hunger fading slowly until she felt the first pangs of fullness. Reluctantly, she pulled back, a drop of his blood still glistening on her lips as she took a deep breath, grounding herself.
“Are you… alright?” she asked, her voice a murmur as she studied his face, a flicker of worry in her gaze. She hadn’t expected him to remain so composed, to feel so… untouched.
In response, Alex gave her a soft, reassuring smile, his gaze moving beyond her to the gate that loomed before them. His expression was calm, the faintest glint of amusement sparking in his eyes. “It’ll take more than a few liters of blood loss to weaken me,” he said, his tone light, as if he were commenting on the weather.
He reached out, his hand a gentle weight on her shoulder, grounding her in the here and now. For a moment, they stood like that, bound by something beyond words. She felt a deep warmth spreading through her, the memory of his trust lingering as an unspoken promise.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice steady, her eyes holding a fierce intensity. Gratitude and something else, something deeper that she couldn’t name, filled her gaze.
Alex gave a slight nod, acknowledging her words without making a show of it. He turned, his posture shifting, becoming sharp and alert as he focused on the task ahead. The gate before them stood tall and ominous, its surface etched with symbols that pulsed faintly, alive with magic .