The Battle Continues

The battlefield was chaos. The ground beneath Mount Pyre was slick with blood and strewn with shattered weapons and broken bodies. The sky itself seemed to close in, smothered by the wings of the airborne Karnen as they descended like a plague. Their shrill, piercing screams tore through the cacophony of clashing steel, drowning out orders, prayers, and even the cries of the dying.

Akash tightened his grip on his resin-infused blade, the blood-slicked handle slipping slightly in his grasp. The leader of the Karnen stood in the distance, a twisted monstrosity perched atop a pile of fallen men. Its luminous rings shimmered with a ghastly light, casting an eerie glow across the battlefield. The creature's eyeless face turned toward him, its toothy maw clicking in jagged, rhythmic motions.

It's watching me, Akash thought. The realization sent a chill down his spine.

"That thing wants you dead," Vyn muttered, coming to Akash's side, his sword already dripping with black ichor.

"Good," Akash replied, a fire sparking in his voice despite the exhaustion that gnawed at his bones. "It'll make this easier."

Fallen stepped forward, his massive scythe dragging a shallow trench in the blood-soaked dirt. "A beast like that isn't just flesh and claws. It reeks of purpose." He cast a wary glance at Akash. "Are you sure you want to be its focus, Oathsworn?"

Akash didn't respond immediately. His mind was buzzing with whispers, faint and incoherent at first, but growing louder with each passing moment.

"Foolish boy," Nakba's voice coiled into his thoughts like a serpent. "You walk into the jaws of death as if it is your birthright. Do you think slaying that thing will make you a hero? Or are you so desperate to leave a mark on a world that does not care for your existence?"

Akash gritted his teeth, shaking his head as though that would drive Nakba out. "I don't need your commentary, Nakba."

The entity laughed, a low, mocking rumble that filled Akash's skull. "Oh, but you do. Who else will tell you the truth? Certainly not Vyn. Not Fallen. Not even the men who march behind you, praying that you will somehow drag them from this hell. They all lie to themselves just to keep moving. But me? I speak only what is."

"Then speak less," Akash growled, his voice audible this time.

Vyn glanced at him. "Still having your little chats with your imaginary friend? You really do make this look easy, Akash." His attempt at levity fell flat in the weight of the moment, but his smirk remained.

"You think it's imaginary?" Nakba's voice hissed in Akash's mind, dripping with amusement. "How adorably naïve. Tell your friend Vyn that I'm as real as the blood soaking his boots."

Akash ignored the comment, focusing instead on the leader of the Karnen. The creature had shifted, stepping down from its perch of corpses. Its razor-sharp claws scraped against the stone, leaving deep grooves in the earth as it stalked forward. The luminous rings on its back twisted and spun, reflecting the flames of the burning settlement below.

The beast's voice slithered into Akash's mind, foreign yet unmistakably directed at him. "You speak to one of the old ones, do you not? A shadow clings to you, Angel of the Red Sands. It will betray you, as all shadows do."

Akash clenched his jaw. He wasn't sure if it was addressing Nakba, or if the monster somehow knew of his past. Either way, it didn't matter. Words were just weapons meant to unsettle him, and he had no time for such games.

"Fallen. Elys. We're taking that thing down." Akash's voice was firm, resolute.

Fallen nodded once, his grip on his scythe tightening. Elys, his massive sabertooth companion, let out a low, guttural growl, his crimson fur streaked with black ichor from the Karnen he had already slain.

Vyn stepped in front of Akash, raising a hand. "Hold up. That thing's not like the others. You've seen it. The arrows can't touch it. You'll get yourself killed if you rush in."

"And if I don't?" Akash countered. "If we let that thing command the horde, it won't matter how many walls we hold or how many cannons we fire. The keep will fall."

Vyn exhaled sharply, running a hand through his rain-slicked hair. "You've got the martyr act down, I'll give you that. Just don't make me write a song about your death."

Akash's lips twitched into a faint smile. "No promises."

The Karnen leader roared, a guttural sound that shook the ground beneath their feet. Its horde surged forward, emboldened by its presence, their scythe-like claws slashing through men and stone alike. Akash didn't wait for another word. He charged forward, his resin-infused blade glowing faintly as it cut through the mist and blood-soaked air.

The battle became a blur.

Akash's first strike cleaved through a smaller Karnen, its body splitting open in a spray of dark ichor. He pivoted, blocking the pincer of another creature with his blade before driving it into the soft joint beneath its armor. The beast screeched and collapsed, but two more took its place.

Elys lunged to his side, sinking his fangs into the throat of a Karnen and tearing it apart with brutal efficiency. Fallen was a whirlwind of death, his scythe carving arcs of destruction as he cut down wave after wave of creatures. But even the Ukari's ferocity couldn't stem the tide.

The leader was still there, watching. Waiting. Its clawed feet tore into the ground as it advanced, its massive tail whipping behind it like a serpent preparing to strike.

And then it spoke again, its voice a jagged blade in Akash's mind. "Do you feel it, Angel? The futility of your struggle? Each swing of your sword only delays the inevitable. You cannot kill what is meant to endure."

"Nakba," Akash growled, his voice shaking. "I'll take care of this one if you stay quiet."

Nakba laughed, the sound dark and guttural. "You think I'll stay quiet? Oh no, my dear fool. I'll be watching. Closely. When it rips you apart, I'll be here to tell you how you could have avoided it."

"Helpful," Akash muttered under his breath.

The leader charged, its luminous rings flaring as it lunged. Akash barely dodged the first swipe of its claws, the force of the attack sending cracks splintering through the stone beneath his feet. He countered with a slash, his blade glancing off its hardened carapace.

Fallen struck from the side, his scythe biting deep into the creature's tail. The beast let out a screech, whipping around to face him. Elys leapt forward, aiming for its throat, but the Karnen leader spun faster, its claws raking across the sabertooth's side. Elys roared in pain, retreating but still ready to strike.

Akash moved in tandem with Fallen, their attacks synchronized, each strike aimed for the creature's vulnerable joints. But the leader was faster than it looked. Its claws danced through the air like blades, deflecting their strikes and forcing them back.

This thing is toying with us, Akash realized.

And still, the horde pressed in, their numbers unrelenting. Akash felt his strength waning, his breaths growing ragged. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't.

"You're slowing," Nakba's voice cut through the chaos, smooth and taunting. "How tragic it would be to fail now, so close to your grand finale."

"Shut up," Akash hissed, slamming his blade into another Karnen.

The leader's laughter—real or imagined—echoed in his ears. It wasn't Nakba this time. It was the creature itself.

The Weaver has a plan for you, Angel. But it ends here.

Akash raised his blade, his body screaming in protest. "Over my dead body," he growled.

"An easy request to grant," the creature replied.

And then it lunged again.