Chapter 20: The Entity's Enmity

The party trudged through dense undergrowth, the thick air of the cavern heavy with unnatural energy. Roderic led the group, his Lycanys features twitching as he sniffed the air, clearly alert to something wrong. The farther they travelled, the more oppressive the atmosphere became.

Seraphina, usually bright and warm, walked with a furrowed brow, her spear in hand. “Something’s not right,” she whispered, her soft voice laced with concern. Tristan, the young spearman, was visibly on edge, his hands trembling as he tightened his grip on his spear.

Daniel tried to keep his nervous teammate steady. "You're ready for this, Tristan. Trust yourself and us." His words carried weight, laced with the experience of many battles in this strange world. Tristan had grown since his initial blunders and now faced the mission with grim determination.

"I... I won't let you down, guys. I promise," Tristan muttered, trying to shake the trembling from his hands.

Suddenly, Roderic froze, his sharp gaze focused on a flicker in the distance. The cavern grew eerily silent. Daniel's heart pounded as he glanced around, his senses heightened. Seraphina stood beside him, her calm demeanour a source of comfort.

“I can feel it,” Roderic growled, his voice low, primal. “Something big. Stay sharp.” The group tensed as the air grew colder, the underground roots seeming to bow under the weight of the malevolent presence creeping closer.

Without warning, the ground trembled, and from the shadows emerged a towering entity, its form twisted, its very essence corrupted by dark aether. Its presence was suffocating, distorting the world around it. The creature’s eyes glowed with a malevolent light, its figure cloaked in swirling darkness that lashed out like tendrils of madness. The space around the entity seemed to bend unnaturally, as though even the light was repulsed by its presence. Wherever its shadow fell, the ground itself appeared to writhe in protest.

Roderic's eyes widened, immediately recognizing the threat. “It wasn't fully summoned after we stopped that mess earlier... but even like this, it’s dangerous.”

The creature let out a low, guttural growl, and with a swift motion, it unleashed a wave of psychic energy. Seraphina and Tristan barely had time to react as the force hit them, their faces contorting in pain. They collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads and screaming before falling unconscious. Faelar winced and cupped his ears before settling down again.

"Tristan! Seraphina!" Daniel shouted, rushing toward them, but Roderic held him back with a firm hand.

“Do not turn your back on the enemy! We can't help them if we’re dead,” Roderic warned, his tone clipped with urgency. “I’ll handle this. You two focus on the underlings.”

Before Daniel could protest, dark shapes emerged from the entity—smaller, shadowy creatures that began to swarm toward them. Daniel raised his sword, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stepped forward.

“Faelar, with me!” Daniel barked, his voice cutting through the tension. The underlings were fast, but they weren’t as strong as the main threat. Still, the distraction kept them from reaching Roderic, who had already moved to face the entity directly.

Faelar leaped forward with fluid grace, his spear flashing in precise arcs as he cut through the shadows. “Try not to slow me down,” he muttered with a smirk, though the tension in his voice betrayed his usual arrogance.

The underlings emitted a lower dose of the corruption, but getting closer still provoked an insidious sensation. The duo found they were much faster than the clawed underlings, able to keep them out of range with their spears. Daniel relied on his training, keeping his back away from the enemy, thrusting his spear, and darting backward to ascertain a new target. His focus remained on Roderic's battle. It was imperative they kept the other creatures from distracting the captain.

As they fought, Roderic faced the entity alone, his spear crackling with energy. He circled it, eyes locked on the creature’s every movement. "Come on then, you ugly bastard."

The entity let out a low, otherworldly laugh, its voice a distortion of sound and madness. “Youuu think you can ssstop me, mortal?” Its tendrils lashed out, aiming to wrap around Roderic, but the Lycanys was quick, dodging with a grace that belied his size.

Roderic spun his spear with deadly precision, eyes sharp as he read the entity’s movements. With a grunt, he lunged forward, executing a perfect Thrust skill, the spearhead glowing faintly as it shot forward with incredible speed and ferocity. The spear’s edge met the tendrils with a sizzling crackle, and dark vapour hissed from the severed pieces. Dark energy spilled from the wound, hissing as it evaporated into the air.

Daniel constantly surveyed the scene, desperate to ensure the captain wasn't flanked. As he did so, he noticed the captain perform a thrust unlike any he had seen before.

The entity recoiled, but Roderic pressed the attack. His eyes flickered, muscles tense as he prepared for his next move. The tendrils writhed, shifting direction as the entity attempted to ensnare him from all sides. Roderic gritted his teeth and spun his spear in a deadly arc before using his Piercing Storm skill.

His spear became a blur, slashing through the air as he spun in a whirlwind of steel and aether. Each movement was precise, cutting through the tendrils that lashed toward him. With each strike, the air itself seemed to ripple, the very fabric of aether warping as if reacting to the entity’s pain. One, two, three tendrils fell in quick succession, their forms dissipating as the spear’s energy ripped them apart. The storm of strikes left the ground littered with dark, writhing fragments.

Daniel watched, impressed, learning that offensive skills could be used defensively when cleverly applied. He stored the images in his mind, knowing he could examine them further to pursue his own growth, if they survive this. Daniel wasn't a natural combatant, so witnessing a true warrior like Roderic and his masterful application of tactics was a sight to behold. Sweat matted his fur as each strike of his spear grew more savage, more desperate. His chest heaved with the effort of each brutal blow.

But the entity was relentless, sending a wave of psychic pressure crashing toward Roderic. He staggered, momentarily dazed, as a dark pulse of energy struck him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. The tendrils seized the opportunity, wrapping around his legs and constricting him in place.

Roderic snarled, forcing his spear down into the ground. His muscles bulged, veins in his arms popping as he summoned every ounce of strength to resist the crushing force. With a roar, he drove his spear into the ground, using it as leverage to tear free from the tendrils' grip. As he stood, he launched into a full-force Thrust aimed directly at the entity's core.

The spear struck home, piercing the entity’s dark mass, causing it to writhe violently. But the victory was short-lived. As Roderic's blow landed, a tendril drilled through the captain’s stomach. He slammed into a nearby wall, close to Daniel, the impact reverberating through the cavern.

“Captain!” Daniel shouted, finishing off the last shadowy creature on his side before rushing toward his fallen leader. Blood trickled down Roderic’s face as he struggled to get up, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. Faelar still had two left to deal with but would have them defeated in moments.

"I... It's weakened," Roderic gasped, his voice strained and barely audible. "Finish it!" With those final words, Roderic fell unconscious.

Daniel’s grip tightened on his spear, his heart pounding in his chest. “Shit, okay, we can do this,” he muttered under his breath. His thoughts briefly turned to his family—A flash of his children’s faces—so innocent, so full of hope—burned into his mind. He couldn’t let them face this world alone. Not like this. Daniel was used to combat now, but had never genuinely feared for his life before. But this thing had to be stopped.

He cast his focus entirely on the entity, its dark form still shifting and struggling to hold itself together. A massive chunk had been torn from its misshapen torso, leaving a gaping wound, yet the power radiating from it was still overwhelming. Even with the injury, the gap between them was vast, and Daniel knew one mistake could spell doom for them all. He had mere seconds to analyse the battlefield, calculate the threats, and devise a plan.

As his mind raced, Faelar suddenly darted to his side, his usual smugness replaced by grim determination. The elf's typical arrogance had vanished—there was no room for rivalry now, only survival.

"Daniel," Faelar said in a low voice, steadily catching his breath, "we need a plan."

Daniel nodded, his eyes never leaving the towering figure of the entity, his own breathing heavy from the previous combat. "We need to cover each other. If it catches one of us alone, we're done. We can't use normal flanking tactics because those tendrils can come from anywhere and skewer us."

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Faelar's eyes flicked to the writhing tendrils still swirling around the creature. “A phalanx formation,” he suggested, his tone sharp and tactical. “We stay close, shield each other’s flanks. It’ll keep our shape small, limit the angles those things can attack from.”

Daniel clenched his jaw and nodded again. It made sense. A phalanx formation would let them push forward without being overwhelmed by the tendrils. With one of them always defending while the other attacked, they could minimise the risk and get close enough to land a killing blow.

“Right,” Daniel muttered, shifting his grip on his spear. “We advance together. You take the first defence, I’ll hit when there’s an opening.”

Faelar’s lips curled slightly into a determined grin. "Just try not to get yourself killed, Gailor. You're starting to become useful."

The entity, sensing their intent, stopped its violent shaking and began to unfurl, its full, twisted form rising to its maximum height. Its tendrils writhed around it like a living storm, dark and insidious. The gaping hole in its chest pulsed with eerie, rhythmic energy, as if the darkness itself were breathing through the wound. Despite its injury, it still loomed over them, a monstrous force that would not go down easily.

Daniel’s blood ran cold as he stared up at the entity, but his resolve hardened. Together, they could finish this. They must.

Step by step, the pair inched closer with their shields raised. Each footfall was a gamble, a dance with death, until finally, the tendrils lashed out, and they struck.

Chapter 21: Shadow Of Death

The cavern seemed to breathe around them, the air thick with the oppressive weight of the dark aura emanating from the crippled entity. It towered above Daniel and Faelar, a mass of writhing shadows and twisted, gnarled limbs.

Its eyes—if they could even be called eyes—glowed a sickly green, radiating malice. Every step it took sent tremors through the ground. The very walls of the cave seemed to pulse in time with its movements, feeding off its corrupting energy.

Faelar and Daniel maintained their close position, both having to focus on shielding from the initial barrage of tendrils.

After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel saw an opening as the entity withdrew a tendril, allowing him to instantly dip his shield slightly, thrusting forward into the shoulder of the creature, who had eventually landed within their range.

Almost instantaneously, a tendril snapped towards the opening left by Daniel lowering the shield, but Faelar was mechanical in his reaction, providing cover with his own shield, blocking the vicious, whipping tendril of shadow as Daniel withdrew his spear and settled back into the form.

The pair maintained their well drilled form, keeping just within striking range whilst maintaining excellent defensive posture.

Faelar saw an opening this time as the beast attempted to manoeuvre to the side to get around their shields, allowing him to snap his spear forth, darting into the entity's knee.

Daniel knew the second Faelar's body veered from the usual stance that he was going to attack, ensuring his own shield was there to cover the resulting gap.

Due to the nature of this combat, only having two spearmen within the phalanx, a covering block meant the shielding spearman was to step just ahead of their partner, so as not to leave themselves open whilst defending another. Though not optimal, it was still effective.

Daniel’s knuckles were white as he gripped his spear, his body already aching from the numerous shallow cuts and bruises he had sustained in the previous fights.

Faelar, too, was bloodied, his elegantly draped leather armour marred by streaks of his own blood, not to mention the black ichor that spewed from the wounds of the previously slain minions.

They had been fighting for what felt like hours, neither of them was sure how much longer they could hold out.

The entity lashed out with another tendril of shadow, its movements unnaturally fast for something so large. Faelar seemed to struggle more against the smothering presence of the being, which caused a slight delay in his attention to the defensive shape.

Daniel barely managed to deflect the blow with his shield, the impact reverberating through his arms, nearly knocking it from his grasp.

The wounded entity was attacking with such ferocious speed, from so many angles, that the pair struggled to forge a counter attack. As Daniel desperately looked for openings, he noticed a purple crackling energy within the wound Roderic left.

The corrupting influence of the entity’s aura was taking its toll on Faelar, clouding his mind with rage and frustration.

As the entity battered the shield of Faelar, Daniel could feel the elf losing control before sending an angry thrust towards its body, landing a solid hit, yet taking a whip to his own shoulder the second he lowered his shield.

"Stay in formation!" Daniel shouted, though his voice was ragged from exhaustion. He felt the insidious aura attempt to corrupt his mind, but for some reason it was unable to sink it's claws in.

"Shut up, Gailor!" Faelar barked, his voice dripping with venom. He swung his spear at the creature’s flank, but the blow lacked the precision needed to do any real damage. "I don’t need your orders!"

The entity roared, its voice a guttural, otherworldly sound that echoed through the cavern, making the air vibrate with raw power. It lashed out again, this time with two tendrils seeped with a crackling energy, one striking at Daniel, the other at Faelar.

"Break!" Daniel barked, diving to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, but Faelar wasn’t as fortunate. The tendril slammed into his shield, sending him crashing against the cavern wall with a sickening thud, the shield now crackling with the energy imbued into the attack.

"Faelar!" Daniel yelled, glancing over at the elf, who was struggling to stand, his face twisted in pain. There was no time to help him—the entity wasn’t going to give them any breathing room.

The beast reared back, its massive, deformed head lowering as it prepared to strike again. Daniel could see the corrupted energy building around its form, the black tendrils of power coiling tighter as it prepared to unleash a final devastating attack. For a moment, he wondered if this was it—if they had pushed too far, if this battle was already lost.

'No, we can't lose. My kids need me,' he thought, an intense clarity forming in his head.

Summoning all his strength, Daniel sprinted forward, driving his spear into the creature’s leg. The spearhead pierced the shifting hide, sending a spurt of black ichor flying into the air.

The entity howled in rage, and the tendrils whipped back in retaliation, catching Daniel across the chest, sending him sprawling across the ground. Pain erupted in his ribs, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. His vision blurred as he struggled to get back on his feet.

Beside him, Faelar had finally managed to stand, his face twisted in fury. His hand clutched his spear so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. "This is my fight!" he screamed, charging at the entity with reckless abandon.

"No! Faelar, don’t—" Daniel’s voice was cut off as the elf leaped into the air, his spear raised high. Faelar’s strike was powerful, but sloppy, and the entity easily swatted him aside like a fly. Faelar hit the ground hard, his body skidding across the dirt, coming to a stop a few feet from Daniel.

He didn’t get up.

Panic flared in Daniel’s chest as he pushed himself to his feet, gasping for breath. They couldn’t take much more of this. The creature was too strong, and Faelar was losing control, his mind clearly corrupted by the entity’s influence.

The entity let out another roar, but this time, it charged. Its massive form barrelled toward them with terrifying speed, its tendrils flailing wildly. Daniel knew something had to change, if he kept playing defence, he would be overcome.

He planted his feet and braced his spear, just as Roderic had taught him. He remembered the captain’s words, how he had described the way a spearman should always keep their weapon steady, how they should feel the flow of the fight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The entity closed the distance in an instant. Daniel's heart pounded in his ears, but as the beast lunged forward, he saw his opening. With a roar of defiance, he thrust his spear forward with every ounce of strength he had left.

The spear pierced the creature’s chest, right through the wound Roderic had inflicted earlier.

Black ichor sprayed across Daniel's face, but he held firm, twisting his spear whilst driving it deeper into the creature’s flesh, the purple energy within beginning to crackle and spark violently.

The entity howled in agony, its body convulsing as it thrashed wildly. For a moment, it looked like it might crush him under its massive weight.

But then, with a final, ear-piercing scream, the creature collapsed, its body going limp as it finally succumbed to its wounds.

Daniel pulled his spear free, stumbling backward, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Blood dripped from the cuts on his arms and legs, and his chest burned where the tendril had struck him, but it was over. They had won.

For a moment, Daniel allowed himself to feel a flicker of triumph. They had faced the impossible, surviving somehow. He turned toward Faelar, ready to help the elf back to his feet, but the expression on Faelar’s face stopped him cold.

Faelar’s eyes were filled with hatred, his face twisted into a mask of pure rage. He staggered to his feet, his spear shaking in his hands. "You… you stole my kill!" he spat, his voice trembling with fury.

Daniel blinked, confused. "What? Faelar, I—"

"Shut your filthy mouth, peasant!" Faelar screamed, his voice raw with emotion, strained with breathlessness. "You did nothing! You -ARE- nothing but a coward, hiding behind me, waiting to strike when it’s safe. You stole my kill!"

"Faelar, listen to yourself!" Daniel took a step back, his heart racing as the elf advanced toward him. "The creature’s aura is still affecting you. You’re not thinking straight!"

But Faelar wasn’t listening. His eyes were wild, his entire body trembling with anger. "You’ve always been in my way," he hissed. "but not anymore."

Without warning, Faelar lunged forward, his spear aimed directly at Daniel’s heart.