Chapter 28: Haunting Shadows

Elias's breath echoed in the empty chamber as the last of the wraiths dissolved into nothingness. The echoes of their final screams still rang in his ears, but there was no time to dwell. The path ahead beckoned, leading further into the cursed fortress.

The air grew colder as he moved forward, the oppressive energy of the citadel thickening. Elias could feel the weight of the place-a city of the dead, every corner filled with forgotten souls and the lingering remnants of dark power.

His steps were measured, each one echoing loudly in the silent halls. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, feeling the raw power from the divine magic he had unleashed earlier still thrumming through him. The battle against the wraiths had drained him physically, but it had also made him sharper, more attuned to the forces at play here.

As he reached the end of the corridor, a massive set of double doors loomed ahead, their surface marked with ancient runes. The sigils glowed faintly, pulsing with a malevolent energy. Elias knew that this was the door that led to the heart of the citadel-where Nythra, the Phantom Queen, awaited.

Before he could reach for the door, a voice broke the silence.

"You are not yet ready, mortal."

The voice was cold, distant, and yet it reverberated in his chest like a dark omen. Elias spun around, his senses on high alert. There, floating just above the ground, was a figure-pale and ethereal, draped in tattered robes. Her face was obscured by a veil of shadow, but the haunting glow of her eyes bore into him like twin daggers.

"You will face horrors beyond your comprehension, the figure continued, her voice both soothing and chilling. "This citadel is a prison, not only for the dead, but for your very soul. You will not leave unscathed."

Elias took a step forward, his grip tightening on his sword. "I didn't come here to turn back. I'm here to end this to face Nythra."

The figure chuckled darkly, her form flickering like a wisp of smoke. "Brave, but foolish. You still do not understand the cost of your actions. You are playing with forces that even gods fear."

Elias didn't flinch. He had come this far, and he would not be deterred by mere threats.

"Then I'll learn," he said, determination clear in his voice.

The figure's expression seemed to shift-was it pity? Or perhaps something darker? Before Elias could react, she vanished into thin air, leaving only a lingering chill in her wake.

He stared at the empty space, his mind racing. But there was no time to dwell on it. The door was still there, waiting. He stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he pushed open the doors, he was greeted by an overwhelming wave of necrotic energy. The atmosphere inside was thick with death, an almost palpable presence that tugged at the very core of his being. Shadows danced along the walls, twisting and writhing like serpents. But amidst this chaos, Elias's focus remained

sharp. He had one purpose: to face Nythra and claim his victory.

The room beyond was vast, its high ceilings lost in shadow. A throne, dark and ornate, sat in the center, draped in dark tendrils of energy. And there, seated upon it, was Nythra-her form draped in flowing robes of midnight black, her skin pale as moonlight.

Her eyes were like twin orbs of ethereal light, glowing with power as she looked down at Elias with a gaze that seemed to pierce into his soul.

"Welcome, challenger," she said, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable power. "I've been waiting for you."

Elias took a deep breath, steadying himself. He was ready. "I've come to end this madness."

Nythra's lips curled into a smile, though it held no warmth. "You will come to regret that decision. No mortal can defy the afterlife and expect to walk away unscathed."

With a flick of her wrist, the room seemed to shift. The shadows deepened, and from them emerged wraiths-dozens of them, their bodies

twisted and writhing as they surrounded Elias.

But he didn't falter. The skills he had absorbed over the course of his trials surged within him, and the power that had been dormant began to awaken. He could feel the raw energy of the battles he had fought, each one giving him

strength, each fallen enemy adding to his might.

With a fierce roar, Elias charged at the first wraith, his sword slicing through the air. He moved like a blur, his blade cutting down one wraith after another. But for every wraith he killed, more seemed to appear. It was a relentless onslaught, but Elias's resolve never wavered.

The longer he fought, the more he felt the pull of the citadel's dark magic. The illusions began to creep in, whispering doubts in his mind, reminding him of his loss, of the family he had failed to save.

But Elias steeled himself. He was stronger now. He would not fall to these tricks. His mind was sharp, focused on the task at hand.

With one final, brutal slash, Elias broke through the last of the wraiths, standing victorious amidst the sea of bodies. But as he turned toward Nythra, she was already on her feet, her expression unreadable.

"You've earned the right to face me," she said, her voice cold as the grave. "But know this-victory here does not guarantee your survival."

Elias raised his sword, his eyes locked on hers. "We'll see about that."

And with that, the final battle for the Cursed Citadel began,