As they approached the tower, the ground beneath them began to shift subtly.
Gareth noticed it first, holding up a hand to stop the group.
“Wait.”
Erick crouched slightly, his crossbow ready.
“What is it?”
“The ground. It’s... uneven.” Gareth knelt, running his hand along the grass.
Armen looked at the ground nervously.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re crossing into another layer of this domain, a threshold of some sort…” Gareth explained.
"Whatever’s ahead won’t be as quiet as this pasture.”
Erick muttered a curse under his breath.
“Figures.”
----------------------------------------
From the shadows of the rocky terrain emerged figures—four-legged creatures with glowing red eyes and bodies wreathed in smoke.
“Shadow beasts,” Gareth said, gripping his sword tightly.
“Three of them. Hold your positions.”
Erick raised his crossbow, aiming at the nearest beast.
“They’re fast, aren’t they?”
“Fast, and they won’t go down easily,” Gareth confirmed.
“Aim for their cores—the glowing spots near their chests."
Armen nodded, though his hands trembled slightly as he raised his crossbow.
“Got it.”
The first beast lunged at Gareth, who sidestepped and slashed downward in one fluid motion.
His blade connected with the creature’s smoky hide, forcing it back.
Erick fired a bolt at another beast, striking its core and causing it to stagger, but it didn’t fall.
Armen fired at the third beast, but his shot missed, embedding itself in the ground.
The beast charged him, forcing him to dive out of the way.
“Stay focused, Armen!”
Gareth barked, cleaving through the first beast with a powerful swing. It let out a piercing screech before dissipating into smoke.
Erick fired again, this time hitting his target dead-on.
The second beast exploded into a cloud of dark mist.
The third beast circled Armen, who scrambled to reload his crossbow.
Just as it pounced, Gareth stepped in, raising his hand and casting a barrier spell.
The beast slammed into the glowing shield, giving Armen enough time to fire a bolt directly into its core. The creature disintegrated, leaving the air eerily quiet.
----------------------------------------
Armen sat on the ground, breathing heavily.
“That... That was close.”
Erick offered him a hand, pulling him up.
“Close doesn’t count if you’re still alive. Good shot.”
“Thanks,” Armen said, though his voice was shaky.
Gareth sheathed his sword, his eyes scanning the area.
“We’re not done yet. This was just the first test. Stay ready.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Erick smirked grimly.
“Always am, sir. Let’s keep moving.”
The atmosphere was thick with tension as Gareth, Erick, and Armen moved cautiously.
But as they rounded a corner of the rocky path, they froze.
Figures—human figures clad in flowing black robes—stood ahead of them, arranged in a semicircle.
Gareth’s heart sank. These were not ordinary enemies; they were mages, real and proper mages. not just mindless monsters and beasts, and judging by their stance and the dark auras surrounding them, they were all level two at the very least.
Gareth raised a hand to signal his team to stop.
“These are mages, likely all at level two. We’re outmatched."
Armen nodded, his grip tightening on his crossbow, though his face betrayed his fear.
Erick didn’t speak, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the enemies.
----------------------------------------
One of the robed figures stepped forward, raising his hand.
Without warning, a sphere of fire erupted from his palm and streaked toward them.
Gareth reacted instantly, raising a blue-colored barrier spell to shield his team.
The fireball collided with the barrier, sending sparks flying.
“Spread out!” Gareth commanded.
Erick and Armen split off, circling to opposite sides of the semicircle.
Gareth charged forward, sword glowing faintly as he channeled his energy into it.
He swung at the nearest mage, forcing the figure to retreat, but another mage retaliated with a blast of wind, knocking Gareth off balance.
Armen fired his crossbow, the bolt finding its mark in one mage’s shoulder.
The figure staggered but remained standing, turning its attention to Armen.
A stream of dark, crackling energy shot from the mage’s hand, narrowly missing Armen as he ducked behind a rock.
Erick fired at another mage, his bolt piercing the figure’s side.
“One down!” he shouted triumphantly, but his celebration was short-lived.
A second mage cast a fire spell, the flames engulfing Erick before he could react.
His screams echoed on the battlefield as he fell, his body consumed by the flames.
“Erick!” Armen yelled, his voice cracking.
He raised his crossbow to fire at the mage who had killed his friend, but another spell—this one a green, twisting curse—hit him square in the chest.
Armen collapsed to the ground, his face contorted in pain as the curse drained the life from him. Within moments, he was dead.
----------------------------------------
“No!” Gareth roared,
He charged at the nearest mage, his sword cutting through the air with deadly precision.
The mage raised a shield spell, but Gareth’s blade shattered it, slashing through the figure’s chest.
The mage fell,
and in just a second after another fireball streaked toward Gareth, but he dodged, countering with a blast of kinetic energy.
The force sent two mages sprawling, but Gareth’s movements were slowing.
His energy was nearly depleted, and every spell he cast left him more drained.
The remaining mages closed in, their combined spells battering Gareth’s defenses.
He blocked one attack, then another, but a blast of lightning caught him in the side, sending him sprawling to the ground.
His sword slipped from his hand, landing several feet away.
Gareth struggled to rise, but his body refused to cooperate.
Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead, and his vision blurred.
He looked around, his heart sinking at the sight of Erick and Armen’s lifeless bodies. His men, loyal and brave, were gone.
----------------------------------------
As Gareth lay there, gasping for breath, he noticed something strange.
The mages, who had been closing in for the kill, began to waver.
One by one, they vanished, their dark robes dissolving into nothingness.
Gareth blinked, unsure if he was hallucinating. He tried to reach for his sword, but his strength failed him, and his hand fell limp.
He turned his head to look at Erick and Armen again, his chest tightening with grief.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I failed you.”
----------------------------------------
Gareth closed his eyes, his mind racing.
Why had the mages vanished? Were they illusions, or had someone called them off?
He didn’t have the answers, and in his weakened state, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
All he could do now was wait—wait for the end or for a miracle.
Gareth felt his consciousness slipping, the pain and exhaustion pulling him into darkness.
Only a single thought kept him sane and gave him hope:
Heidrick will know. Heidrick will come.
-
Gareth knew he was at his limit, but then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed movement.
A figure emerged from the haze, walking slowly and deliberately toward him.
As the figure stepped into view, Gareth's eyes widened.
Despite the pain, he managed to gasp,
"Alexander... Distantias?"
The man chuckled, his voice cold and echoing.
"Indeed, Gareth. It is I."
Gareth coughed violently, blood splattering onto the ground.
"This... this isn't possible," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You’re dead. I saw your corpse with my own eyes."
Alexander grinned, his expression twisted with amusement.
"Ah, yes. Dead. I was, indeed, Gareth. Quite thoroughly, I might add. The curse cast upon me was no minor one—it claimed my life without hesitation. But,"
He leaned closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper,
"Magic has ways of bending reality. Wouldn't you agree?"