THE PRIDE THAT DRIVES HIM DEEPER

The echo of Aazam stood before Eryndor, a towering mass of shadow and malice. Its red eyes burned with an ancient, unspoken fury, the darkness swirling around it like a storm ready to devour everything in its path. Eryndor felt the pull of the shadow within him, its hunger mirroring the beast that loomed ahead.

But this time, he wasn't afraid.

With the dagger still clutched in his hand, Eryndor stepped forward. The power of the shadow coiled through him, twisting around his veins, but he harnessed it, forcing it to bend to his will. He felt the light of the Creation Tree coursing through the dagger, pushing back against the consuming darkness, a delicate balance of chaos and order within him.

The woman, still by his side, kept her distance, her face a mix of fear and awe. She knew what was at stake—if Eryndor fell here, the shadow would consume him and possibly unleash a greater evil into the world. But she also sensed something else: Eryndor was not the same man who had fought the shadow earlier. He had begun to change, not just into a vessel for the curse, but into something new, something unpredictable.

The echo lunged forward, its form shifting like liquid smoke. Its claws sliced through the air with an unnatural speed, aiming for Eryndor's heart. But before it could make contact, Eryndor's body reacted with a speed of its own, the shadow within him surging to meet the attack. He dodged to the side, dark tendrils extending from his body, deflecting the creature's strike.

Eryndor spun the dagger in his hand and slashed at the echo, the blade glowing with the light of the Creation Tree. The dagger cut through the shadowy form, leaving a trail of shimmering light in its wake. The echo screeched, the sound vibrating through the very air, and staggered backward, its form flickering.

But it was far from defeated.

With a roar, the echo reformed, its body expanding, growing larger, darker. The air around it crackled with dark energy, and the ground beneath Eryndor's feet began to tremble. The Creation Tree swayed, its leaves whispering as if in warning, while the shadow inside Eryndor pulsed, urging him to give in.

Eryndor gritted his teeth. He could feel the echo trying to draw him in, trying to merge with the shadow within him. The pull was strong—stronger than before—but Eryndor wasn't going to let it happen. Not while he still had control.

The woman's voice echoed through the chaos. "Eryndor! You have to use the tree's power—now! Before the shadow overwhelms you!"

Eryndor glanced at the Creation Tree. Its golden light flickered, casting strange, ethereal patterns on the ground, and for a moment, he saw something else—an image in his mind of the cosmic sea, a vast ocean of stars and swirling galaxies, stretching out into infinity. He saw the multiverse in all its glory and the thin threads that connected every existence, every world.

And in that moment, Eryndor understood.

The Creation Tree was not just a symbol of life and power. It was a gateway, a conduit to the cosmic sea, where the true nature of the multiverse could be glimpsed and where beings like Aazam had once roamed. It held the keys to traveling through the vast expanse of time, space, and dimensions. The echo of Aazam had come to claim it, to harness its energy and return to the cosmic sea as a force of destruction.

But Eryndor wasn't going to let that happen.

With a burst of strength, Eryndor surged forward, driving the dagger deep into the echo's chest. The creature let out a deafening roar as the light of the Creation Tree poured into it, mixing with the shadow that writhed within. The echo's form began to unravel, dark tendrils disintegrating as the power of the tree consumed it.

The ground trembled, and Eryndor could feel the shadow within him rebelling, fighting against the light. His body burned with the force of it, but he held firm, refusing to let either side take control. Instead, he forced them together, forging a unity between light and shadow within himself.

With a final scream, the echo of Aazam shattered, dissolving into the air. The ground beneath Eryndor stopped shaking, and the oppressive darkness lifted, replaced by the gentle glow of the Creation Tree.

Eryndor collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The shadow inside him was quieter now, subdued, but it was still there, lingering just beneath the surface. He could feel its power, but it no longer threatened to overwhelm him. Instead, it felt... balanced.

The woman approached cautiously, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You... you defeated it."

Eryndor nodded weakly, his hand still gripping the dagger. "For now," he said, his voice hoarse. "But this isn't over."

He looked up at the Creation Tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. The image of the cosmic sea was still fresh in his mind, and he knew that his journey was far from finished. The echo of Aazam was just one fragment, one piece of a much larger puzzle. And if he was going to put an end to the curse that bound him, he would need to venture beyond this world—into the cosmic sea itself.

The woman knelt beside him. "What do we do now?"

Eryndor stood slowly, his body aching but his mind clear. "We go to the cosmic sea," he said. "Aazam's influence reaches beyond this world, and if we're going to stop it, we need to go where it all began."

The woman hesitated, but then nodded. "I will follow you."

With a final glance at the Creation Tree, Eryndor turned and began walking away from the battlefield, the glow of the tree fading behind him. He could feel the pull of the cosmic sea, the vast ocean of stars and worlds calling to him.

And as he stepped forward into the unknown, he knew that the real battle had only just begun.