Chapter 22: Veil of the Abyss

A hush settled over the ruined battlefield, the scent of charred stone and iron hanging thick in the air. The remains of the stronghold smoldered in the distance, a grim reminder of the storm I had unleashed.

I stood motionless, my breath slow and measured, as the last remnants of dark energy crackled around my fingertips. The power within me—wild, untamed, and ancient—refused to be silenced. It pulsed in my veins, whispering of things I had yet to understand.

The gathered onlookers dared not step closer. Fear glimmered in their eyes, but beyond that, there was something else—recognition. They had seen strength before, but not like this. Not like me.

One man, however, did not cower.

Draped in obsidian robes with silver embroidery woven into the fabric like threads of moonlight, he exuded an aura of quiet command. His mask concealed his expression, but I felt the weight of his gaze. He had been watching me for some time, and now, he had decided to act.

"You held back," he remarked, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge of intrigue.

I met his gaze, unreadable. "Did I?"

A faint chuckle escaped him. "Yes. But that won't last much longer."

The words sent a ripple through me. He knew. He had seen what even I was only beginning to grasp—the shift in my existence, the unraveling of something long buried within me.

I didn't reply.

Before another word could be exchanged, a flicker of motion shattered the fragile stillness.

From the ruins, a figure darted forward, his dagger flashing in the dim light.

The strike came fast—too fast for an ordinary assassin. His blade aimed for my throat, his speed honed by experience.

But instinct had already taken over.

My body moved before thought. A subtle shift, a calculated tilt of my head—the dagger sliced through empty air, missing its mark by a whisper. Before he could adjust, my fingers wrapped around his wrist with precise force, locking him in place.

A sharp intake of breath escaped him as my grip tightened, dark energy curling around my hand like living tendrils.

"You hesitate," I murmured, my voice almost pitying. "A mistake you won't get to make twice."

A pulse of power surged through me, and with a single motion, I twisted his wrist, forcing him to drop the blade. The weapon clattered against the cracked stone, the sound sharp against the silence.

He gasped, stumbling as I released him, his body colliding with the ground in a brutal impact. Dust and debris swirled around him, the force of my strength leaving him shaken.

The crowd recoiled. Even those who had once stood as my enemies took a step back, the weight of my presence pressing down on them like an unseen force.

Yet, the man in the obsidian robes remained still. Watching.

"Impressive," he finally said, his tone unreadable.

I exhaled, letting the remnants of my energy settle. "Is that why you're here? To test me?"

His smirk deepened, though his gaze sharpened. "Not quite. I'm here because you've reached the point of no return."

A chill threaded down my spine.

"There is no turning back from what you've become," he continued, his voice calm, yet absolute. "The moment you let that power surface, the world changed. And now, it will never see you the same way again."

He was right.

I had felt the shift in the very air around me. My presence alone had unsettled them, had forced them to acknowledge something beyond their understanding. And now, there was no undoing it.

Power had consequences.

And mine had just begun to take shape.

The man gestured for me to follow. "Come. It's time you see what lies ahead."

For a moment, I hesitated. Not out of doubt, but because I understood the weight of this moment.

Then, without another word, I stepped forward.

The abyss had opened its arms.

And I was walking straight into it.

---

Beyond the Ruins

The corridors of the hidden stronghold were lined with torches, their flames flickering against the cold stone walls. The deeper we walked, the heavier the air became, thick with something unseen—an ancient presence lingering just beyond perception.

"This place," I said, my voice steady, "it doesn't belong to the kingdom, does it?"

The masked man glanced at me, his amusement barely concealed. "No. It belongs to something far older."

The walls whispered as we passed, faint traces of runes pulsing with a dull glow. It wasn't magic in the way I had known—it was something deeper, woven into the very bones of the structure.

"Why bring me here?" I asked, my steps unfaltering.

"Because you are the first in centuries to awaken the Veil of the Abyss," he said, his voice echoing softly. "And whether you accept it or not, you are no longer just a prince. You are something more."

The words settled heavily in my mind.

The Veil of the Abyss.

I didn't fully understand it yet, but I knew enough to realize one thing—this wasn't just a power. It was a legacy. One that had been waiting for someone to claim it.

We reached a massive door, its surface etched with symbols that pulsed like slow heartbeats. The masked man placed a hand against it, and with a sound like shifting mountains, it began to open.

Beyond it lay a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in the shadows. And in the center stood something that made my breath catch.

A throne.

Not of gold or silver, but of black stone, its surface rippling like liquid obsidian. It called to me in a way I couldn't explain, as if it had been waiting.

The masked man turned to me, his gaze unreadable.

"Sit," he said.

I took a step forward, drawn by something primal, something that whispered in my blood.

I was no longer just a forgotten prince.

I was something else.

And the world was about to learn what that meant.

---

Author's Note

Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying the story, please consider supporting me with power stones, comments, and reviews. Your support keeps me motivated, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!