Brutal Corruption

718 A.Z. Southern region of Erinhor.

"You're telling me this was once a garden?" Castor's voice was tinged with disbelief as he stared at the twisted landscape before them.

Nixon nodded solemnly, his eyes scanning the horizon where the last vestiges of daylight were being swallowed by the encroaching dark. "Yes," he murmured, "this was a bastion of the Lifestream, pure and untouched."

The two men stood in stark contrast to the desolate scenery. Castor, with his sun-kissed skin and auburn hair, had a uniform that was meticulously clean, despite the dust that had been kicked up during their journey. His armor, a sleek combination of mithril and enchanted leather, reflected the dim light in a muted shimmer. The emblem on his chest, a stylized golden sun, an elite guard dedicated to preserving the balance of the Arcane Weave.

Nixon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. His long, raven-black hair was combed back into a severe ponytail, revealing the sharp contours of his face and his eyes, a piercing blue. He wore the same armor as Castor, with the emblem on his chest.

The landscape before them was a twisted mockery of the once-thriving garden it had been. The plants had become grotesque, their branches contorted into claw-like shapes, their leaves a sickly pallor of green. The trees were gnarled and bare, their bark cracked and oozing a thick, black resin that smelled faintly of decay. The ground beneath their boots was a mottled mix of gray and black, as if the very earth itself had been poisoned by the corruption that had ravaged the area. The air was thick with the scent of rotting vegetation, and every gust of wind brought with it the distant cries of unidentifiable creatures, their calls echoing eerily through the desolate expanse.

Castor took a deep drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a fiery orange in the dusk. "I can't believe how a simple crack in the fabric can cause something like this," he said, his voice a mix of awe and horror. He exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the corrupted air.

"It's not just a crack," Nixon corrected, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "It's a knot break, the worst kind. When the Lifestream is fractured here, it allows the deepest layer, the arcane flow, to seep through."

He paused briefly before continuing. "That's why we need to do this quickly." He turned his head back, "Seraphel! Time for the cleanup."

The shadows grew denser as a figure emerged from the corrupted foliage. Seraphel, his black hair fluttering in the foul breeze, had eyes that shimmered white-silver, like twin serpents caught in moonlight. He wore the same armor and the same emblem as the other two.

"Understood," he said in a cold, detached tone, his gaze flickering over the blighted terrain. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword, a weapon of ancient design, its blade pulsing with a sickly light.

Without another word, the three of them set to work. Castor and Nixon, armed with enchanted blades, began to cut down the twisted vegetation, their movements precise and calculated. Each swing and slash sent a ripple of light through the plants. The corrupted growth squealed and writhed as it was separated from the tainted earth, its cries echoing through the stillness.

Seraphel, however, took a different approach. He stepped forward, his eyes closing for a moment as he felt the dark pulse of the corruption beneath his feet. His hand left his sword and instead, he raised it to the sky, palm outstretched. A whisper of power built around him, the air growing colder, the smell of ozone sharp and biting. His eyes snapped open, the silver light within them now a raging tempest of black and white.

Seraphel brought his hand down in a swift, violent arc. A wave of pure, unadulterated force shot out from his fingertips, tearing through the corrupted growth like a scythe through wheat. The plants shriveled and withered before them, the black resin on the trees hissing and evaporating into the air. The cries of the twisted creatures grew louder, more desperate, as they felt the power of the corruption being ripped from them.

Castor and Nixon paused in their work to watch, a mix of admiration and fear in their eyes. They had seen Seraphel's power in action before, but it never ceased to amaze them. The ground trembled beneath their boots as the energy of the arcane flow surged and recoiled from his touch. The sky above rumbled, the clouds thickening and darkening, reflecting the chaos he wielded.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound the distant wailing of the creatures retreating from the spreading purification. Then, as if on cue, the silence was shattered by an unearthly howl. The earth beneath them split open, and a monstrous creature erupted from the depths.

It was a humanoid creature, but grotesque and distorted, with thin, bony limbs that seemed disproportionately long. The face was partially mask-like, with demonic and animalistic features. Its mouth had needle-like teeth surrounded by deformed bone plates. The skin was torn, with exposed flesh and pulsating veins. Some areas were covered with a leathery, black substance and its eyes glowed an ominous red, as if they could pierce the soul of any human.

With a speed that belied its monstrous form, the creature lunged at Castor, who was standing closest to the breach. Castor barely had time to react before its clawed hands closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Castor's eyes bulged as he gasped for air, his sword clattering to the ground.

Nixon shouted a warning, but it was too late. The creature's grip tightened, and with a sickening crunch, it tore Castor's head from his body. Blood spurted from the ragged stump, painting the creature's face a crimson mask. The corrupted essence of the Lifestream swirled around them, feeding off the violence and chaos.

Seraphel's eyes narrowed, his anger clearly evident. He stepped forward and drew his sword from its sheath with a hiss of steel. The creature turned its misshapen gaze to him, the red light in its eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity before it released its grip on Castor's lifeless body.

"Aen'vaer, endar du siel!" it said, its voice a guttural, unnatural sound that seemed to resonate with the fabric of the corrupted earth. The words hung in the air, echoing the ancient language.

Nixon's eyes snapped to Seraphel, expecting a swift, brutal response. But instead, he found his comrade frozen, staring at the creature with a look of utter shock and recognition.

"I know what you are..." Seraphel murmured to himself, unaware that the creature was thrusting its claws in his direction.

But Nixon was quicker. He lunged forward, pushing Seraphel aside with a grunt of effort. The creature's claws swiped through the air where Seraphel's chest had been a heartbeat before, narrowly missing. But Nixon's action came with a heavy price. The creature's attack continued, its momentum carrying through and slamming into Nixon. He was sent flying through the air, his body bouncing off the trunk of a twisted tree with a sickening thud.

The creature's eyes lit up with a sadistic glee as it stalked towards the downed guardian, the ground shaking with each step it took. Nixon groaned, trying to push himself up with trembling arms, only to have one of them snap under his own weight. He looked at his limb, now bent at an impossible angle, and realized the extent of his injuries.

With all his effort, he turned his head towards Seraphel, who was frozen to the spot. Gritting his teeth, Nixon opened his mouth, "Sera—" but he immediately fell silent as the creature crushed his body, leaving him in two pieces.

Seraphel slowly regained consciousness, the world around him a whirlwind of pain and disbelief. The weight of Castor's lifeless body lying next to him brought him back to the grim reality. The creature, a twisted amalgamation of corrupted life and malevolent arcane energy, was a creature of the dark Corruption. Born from a knot break.

The creature turned its gaze back towards Seraphel. "You siel vorn na Aen, athar'vorn firm iel'veth selb!" The creature bellowed in the ancient tongue.

Once again, Seraphel was in shock, "what?!" He spoke softly before gripping his sword tightly and lunging at the creature.

The creature shot its right hand at Seraphel with alarming speed, but he was not going to be caught off guard again. He slipped under it, the cold metal of his blade barely brushing the creature's leathery flesh. He tasted the dust that the creature's movement had kicked up, feeling the grit between his teeth.

The creature brought its left hand down in a powerful swipe that could have cleaved a mountain in two, but Seraphel was already in motion. With a grace that belied his brutal intent, he executed a sideways roll that took him clear of the blow. The ground where he'd been standing cracked and split under the creature's assault, sending shards of corrupted earth flying into the air.