Chapter 35: Shadows and Lords
The air inside the dimly lit fortress was heavy with tension. In a grand hall lined with obsidian pillars, four figures knelt in silence, waiting. The oppressive aura in the room grew stronger as a figure stepped into the hall—a man clad in black, his face hidden behind a gleaming mask with a single glowing red eye.
The masked man, Rhylen, approached with measured steps, his presence alone enough to make the air thick with unease. The four figures bowed their heads in respect, except for one who hesitated, his pride keeping him from fully submitting.
Rhylen's glowing eye shifted toward the disobedient figure. "You dare defy me?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with menace.
The defiant figure stood his ground for a moment, his expression hard. "I serve the true master, not you. You may carry his orders, but—"
Before he could finish, Rhylen's aura exploded outward, pressing down on the room like a tidal wave. The rebellious figure gasped, clutching at his throat as the weight of the masked man's power crushed him to his knees.
"You forget your place," Rhylen said, his voice a low growl. "I am his will. To defy me is to defy him."
The man's bravado crumbled, and he fell flat on the floor, trembling. "Please… forgive me. I won't disobey again."
Rhylen let the aura linger for a moment longer before releasing it. The man gasped for air, his face pale with fear.
"See that you don't," Rhylen said coldly. Without another word, he turned and walked toward a large door at the far end of the hall, leaving the others in silence.
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The Master of Shadows
The door led to a vast chamber, its walls adorned with ancient carvings that pulsed faintly with energy. At the center of the room sat a throne carved from dark stone, and upon it reclined a man whose very presence seemed to distort reality.
This man's aura was overwhelming, a crushing force that made Rhylen's own seem insignificant in comparison. His eyes glowed faintly, and his body bore scars that spoke of countless battles. Despite his relaxed posture, there was a sense of barely restrained power in every movement.
Rhylen approached the throne and knelt. "The plan is proceeding as expected, my lord. Kael has taken the blade, and his journey is leading him deeper into the Abyss. Soon, he will reach the point of no return."
The man on the throne smiled faintly, his voice deep and commanding. "Good. But there is one obstacle we cannot ignore."
Rhylen looked up, curiosity flickering in his glowing eye. "Kael's father?"
The man nodded. "Yes. The Lord of the World. A title he earned not through birthright, but through conquest and sheer will. He is more dangerous than any blade or army."
Rhylen hesitated. "You fought him once, didn't you, my lord?"
The man's smile faded, and he leaned forward, revealing a jagged scar that ran across his chest—a scar so deep it seemed to pulse faintly with its own energy.
"Yes," he said, his tone darkening. "That was the closest I have ever come to death. He left that mark on me, but I ensured he would never forget me either. Our battle was the reason he abandoned his son. He sought me out, and in doing so, left Kael behind. A mistake that has become his greatest regret."
Rhylen's eye narrowed. "If Kael's father decides to intervene, it could complicate things."
The man on the throne chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "He won't. Not yet. He is wounded, hiding in the shadows. But make no mistake—when he learns of Kael's role in this, he will come. And when he does, I will finish what we started."
Rhylen bowed his head. "And what of Kael himself? His power grows with every step. The Abyss seems to favor him."
The man's smile returned, cold and calculating. "Let him grow. Let him believe he is in control. The more power he gains, the closer he comes to losing himself. When the time is right, he will serve us, whether he wishes to or not."
Rhylen rose, his posture stiff. "And if he resists?"
The man's gaze hardened, his voice like thunder. "Then he will die, as will his father. There will be no mercy for those who stand in my way."
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The Lord's Secret
As Rhylen left the chamber, his mind was heavy with the weight of his master's words. He knew of the Lord of the World, the man whose name alone struck fear into armies. Kael's father was a legend, a warrior whose power rivaled even the Abyss itself.
But Rhylen also knew the truth: the scar his master bore was no ordinary wound. It was a mark of defeat, a reminder that even the greatest could be brought low.
For the first time, doubt crept into Rhylen's mind. Was Kael truly a pawn, or was he something more? And if the father and son were to reunite, could even the Abyss withstand their combined strength?
As he walked down the dark corridors of the fortress, Rhylen pushed the thoughts away. There was no room for doubt. The plan was in motion, and nothing would stop it.
Far away, in the ruins of an ancient city, Kael felt a strange chill run down his spine. Unaware of the forces gathering against him, he tightened his grip on the legendary sword and pressed forward, his path growing darker with every step.