Somehow, despite all of his precautions, he had tripped an alarm.
From the far wall, a hidden panel slid open, dust spilling from its edges. Within, an enormous shape began to stir. The guardian was monstrous—an enormous scorpion sculpted entirely of black stone, its carapace carved with twisting necromantic sigils that glowed with an eerie green light. Its eight segmented legs cracked the marble floor beneath it with each movement, and its pincers, jagged as obsidian blades, snapped open and closed with metallic finality. The tail arched high above its body, its crystalline stinger dripping with a viscous, glowing venom that hissed as it dripped onto the stone.
Wraith barely had time to react as the scorpion lunged, its tail striking down like a falling spear. He twisted, throwing himself sideways just as the tip of the stinger shattered the ground where he had stood, sending cracks spiderwebbing outward. He rolled to his feet, but the golem was relentless. Its massive pincer slashed toward him, forcing him to bend unnaturally, his body contorting to avoid the razor-sharp edge. The air whistled as the claw snapped shut inches from his chest.
The Wraith flicked his gaze around the chamber. The scorpion was blocking the only exit, and its enchanted stone body would be impervious to conventional attacks. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast.
The Wraith’s mind cleared in an instant, his senses sharpening to a fine point. The stone scorpion lunged again, its pincers snapping through the air with terrifying force. He knew he could no longer rely solely on stealth and evasion. He needed raw power. And that meant abandoning Sneakform for Battleform.
With a deep breath, the Wraith began the transformation. His body rippled and thickened, muscles coiling as his bones reshaped beneath his skin. He grew taller, the sudden surge of power pulling him upward. His arms stretched and thickened, each one gaining definition, becoming stronger. His nails elongated into claws, sharp as obsidian, a deadly contrast to his now rough, dark skin, which took on a texture like weathered stone.
When his transformation was complete, the Wraith stood at eight feet tall, his form sleek and deadly. His four powerful arms flexed, the tips of his claws gleaming in the dim light. He had based this form on the Shobhad, the four armed desert giants who were renowned for their martial prowess. His body, though not as massive as the Shobhad’s legendary warriors, was lean and honed for battle—muscular, agile, and utterly focused. He no longer needed weapons; his claws alone were enough.
The golem scorpion hissed, its massive pincers opening with a grinding screech. It lunged again, faster this time, determined to crush the intruder. But the Wraith was ready.
He moved like a blur, his body twisting and contorting with the agility of a predator. His claws slashed through the air, meeting the scorpion's pincers in a series of rapid, fluid strikes. He darted beneath the golem’s massive tail, his body shifting with inhuman grace to avoid its deadly stinger, which struck the floor with a deafening crack.
The Wraith didn’t hesitate. With his four arms, he reached for the scorpion’s legs, his claws raking across the stone limbs with brutal precision. Sparks flew as he tore into the enchanted carapace, each swipe weakening the golem’s structural integrity. The scorpion retaliated, snapping its pincers toward him in a frenzy, but the Wraith’s lithe body dodged and weaved, always staying one step ahead. His claws found purchase on the stone, his hands gripping and tearing with relentless ferocity.
The scorpion shrieked, an unnatural sound that reverberated through the chamber as the Wraith's claws dug deep into the runed stone of its legs. The sigils carved into its body pulsed erratically, green light flickering as if in pain. The Wraith felt the resistance in the enchanted rock, the runes trying to repair the damage even as he inflicted it. But he did not relent.
With a guttural snarl, he pivoted around the golem’s body, launching himself upward in a twisting motion. His claws slashed at the joints of the legs, seeking the weak points between the thick plates of stone. A loud crack echoed through the chamber as one of the scorpion’s legs buckled. The guardian lurched, momentarily thrown off balance, but its tail struck down with blinding speed, forcing the Wraith to retreat before he could capitalize on its instability.
The crystalline stinger speared toward him, a blur of venomous green light. The Wraith barely managed to sidestep, but the tail scraped along his ribcage, leaving a deep gash that burned like fire. He gritted his teeth, feeling the venom seep into the wound. His body, even in Battleform, struggled to resist the poison’s spread. He could feel the heat of it, an unnatural energy eating at his flesh from within.
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Time was running short.
The Wraith launched forward, using all four arms in a devastating flurry of strikes. His upper arms slashed at the scorpion’s face, aiming for its glowing emerald eyes, while his lower arms tore into the cracked leg, seeking to rip it free entirely. The guardian recoiled, its stone carapace groaning under the brutal assault. It retaliated with a sweeping pincer strike, but the Wraith twisted mid-air, avoiding it by the barest margin.
Then, he saw his opening.
The damaged leg, now fractured and barely holding together, bent at an unnatural angle as the scorpion tried to readjust its stance. With a feral grin, the Wraith drove both lower claws into the weakened joint and wrenched with all his might. The leg shattered, pieces of enchanted stone flying in all directions. The golem shrieked again, stumbling to one side as it struggled to compensate for the sudden loss of balance.
Seizing the moment, the Wraith leaped onto the scorpion’s back, his claws digging into the rough stone to keep himself anchored. The creature bucked violently, its tail whipping forward in an attempt to skewer him. He dodged, barely managing to stay latched on as the venomous stinger carved deep gouges into the air. With a powerful heave, he scaled the scorpion’s armored back, reaching for the base of its tail.
If he could break the tail, he could neutralize its deadliest weapon.
The sigils along the tail glowed with a furious light, sensing his intent. The scorpion twisted, trying to throw him off, but the Wraith clung on with relentless determination. He wrapped one arm around the base of the tail while the other three went to work, claws tearing into the runed stone. The magic resisted him, flaring bright as it tried to reinforce the integrity of the construct, but the Wraith was stronger. With a final, savage twist, he snapped the tail at its base.
The scorpion reared back, its movements now erratic, its balance all but destroyed. The severed tail crashed to the floor, venom spilling from the crystalline tip and hissing as it corroded the stone. The golem’s remaining legs scrabbled for purchase, its mindless determination refusing to let it fall, but the Wraith was already moving for the kill.
Leaping from the scorpion’s back, he landed in front of it, locking eyes with the glowing green orbs embedded in its face. With a fierce growl, he surged forward, both upper arms lashing out in a final, decisive strike. His claws pierced the scorpion’s eyes, driving deep into the pulsating magic within. The golem spasmed, its entire body convulsing as arcs of green energy erupted from the wound.
The Wraith ripped his claws free, the magical core within the scorpion’s head shattering in a brilliant explosion of emerald light. The guardian let out a final, shrieking wail before collapsing, its massive form crumbling into a heap of broken stone. The necromantic energy flickered once more, then faded into nothingness.
The chamber fell silent, save for the Wraith’s ragged breathing. He staggered, his body trembling as the venom continued to burn through his veins. His wounds ached, his muscles strained from the brutal fight. He had won—but not without cost.
With a grimace, he forced himself upright, shaking off the haze of pain. The exit was clear now, the fallen guardian no longer blocking his path. He needed to move.
The chamber fell silent, save for the Wraith’s ragged breathing. He staggered, his body trembling as the venom continued to burn through his veins. His wounds ached, his muscles strained from the brutal fight. He had won—but not without cost.
He stepped over the shattered remains of the golem and staggered toward the arched doorway ahead. Beyond, the corridor stretched into darkness, but he had no time to linger. The sounds of distant footsteps echoed down the hall—rapid, armored, relentless. The Elven guards were coming.
Cursing under his breath, the Wraith pushed forward, forcing his battered body into motion. His claws still dripped with dust and arcane residue from the guardian, but he had no time to clean them. He sprinted through the passageway, his keen senses picking up the glimmers of torchlight approaching from the far end. More than a dozen, maybe more.
He turned sharply at an intersection, only to find another group of Sentinels blocking his path. Their enchanted plate armor shimmered with runic wards, their spears leveled with lethal precision. They did not hesitate. The first lunged, thrusting forward, forcing the Wraith to twist sideways in a narrow dodge. He countered with a vicious swipe, but his claws screeched harmlessly against their warded armor.
He hissed, launching himself back the way he came. More guards were closing in from behind, trapping him. He dashed left, sprinting into another corridor. The air grew colder. Ahead, he spotted a grand chamber—tall windows lining the walls, moonlight spilling in through stained glass.
His only chance.
He pushed forward, heart pounding. The doors burst open as he entered the vast chamber, the ceiling arched high above. The room bore the marks of forgotten grandeur—dusty banners of Elven heraldry lined the walls, and an enormous chandelier of crystal and gold swayed slightly from an unseen draft. But the Wraith had no time for details.
A dozen Sentinels and guards flooded in behind him, weapons raised. He turned, muscles tensing, calculating his next move. Then, the doors on the far side of the room opened, revealing yet another squadron of Elven warriors. He was surrounded.