Chapter 7-Shadows That Whisper

Chapter 7 – Shadows That Whisper

The cold wind gnawed at Azrael's skin as he trudged through the endless expanse of ruins. His breath came out in sharp puffs, barely visible in the dim, eerie glow of the blood-red moon above. The air was thick with the scent of rusted metal and something more foul—decay.

His body ached from the previous battle, bruises lining his ribs, but stopping wasn't an option. The system's latest task still loomed in his mind:

[Survive the Night. Failure Penalty: Immediate Termination.]

"Of course, it has to be something like this…" Azrael muttered under his breath. The moment the system had given him the mission, he knew it wouldn't be as simple as waiting for sunrise.

A guttural snarl echoed from the darkness.

Azrael's fingers instinctively curled around the crude dagger he had scavenged. He didn't have the luxury of high-tier weapons or armor, not yet. But he had his instincts, his wit, and sheer desperation. And right now, those were the only things standing between him and death.

The ruins provided little in the way of safety. Towering, jagged structures cast long, haunting shadows, their cracked surfaces whispering of an age long lost. The worst part? He wasn't alone.

Another sound. Closer this time.

He spun around, eyes scanning the darkness. The shadows shifted unnaturally. His heartbeat quickened. His grip tightened.

Then, a pair of glowing violet eyes flickered into existence.

Azrael barely had time to react before the creature lunged.

Azrael twisted his body, barely avoiding the razor-sharp claws that sliced through the air where his head had been a moment ago. He stumbled back, his breath ragged as he got his first real look at the creature before him.

It was humanoid in shape, but grotesquely elongated—its limbs too thin, its fingers ending in curved talons. Its body was wrapped in writhing shadows, shifting like living smoke. But its eyes… those glowing violet orbs bore into him, unblinking, filled with something far worse than hunger.

Malice.

The system chimed in his head.

[New Entity Identified: Wraithborn Stalker]

[Threat Level: High]

Azrael barely had time to process the information before the Stalker moved again, its body flickering, as if reality itself rejected its presence.

Too fast!

He threw himself to the side, rolling across the cracked stone. Pain flared up his ribs, but he ignored it. He needed to think. He needed a way to fight back.

His dagger was useless against something like this. He had no armor, no magic, no backup.

All he had… was himself.

The Stalker turned toward him, tilting its head unnaturally. Then, without warning, it vanished.

Azrael's stomach dropped.

Where—?

His instincts screamed at him.

He ducked—just as the Stalker reappeared behind him, its claws slashing downward. He felt the wind from the strike brush his skin, missing by a hair's breadth.

It's toying with me.

He scrambled backward, keeping his eyes locked onto the creature. If he ran, it would just phase through the shadows and cut him down. If he stayed still, he was dead.

There had to be something he could use.

He scanned the ruins around him. The crumbling pillars, the shattered stone slabs—nothing seemed useful. But then his gaze landed on something.

A rusted chain, half-buried in the rubble.

An idea sparked in his mind. It was reckless. It was desperate. But it was the only shot he had.

The Stalker lunged again.

Azrael sprang forward instead of back, throwing himself directly into the creature's attack. At the last second, he twisted his body, letting the momentum carry him past the Stalker's swipe. His fingers wrapped around the chain, yanking it free as he rolled onto his feet.

The Stalker whirled, but Azrael was already moving.

He swung the chain. It lashed out, striking through the air—

—And passed right through the creature's body.

Azrael's heart sank. It's not physical…

The Stalker's eerie grin widened.

Then—pain.

A searing slash across his shoulder sent him reeling. He hit the ground hard, his vision blurring. Blood dripped onto the cold stone beneath him.

He gasped, barely able to lift his dagger.

Was this it?

Was this how he died?

The system's cold voice echoed in his mind.

[Warning: Fatal injury detected. Rapid blood loss commencing.]

[Survive the Night. Failure Penalty: Immediate Termination.]

He let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah… I got that part already."

The Stalker approached slowly now, savoring its victory. Its claws gleamed in the crimson moonlight.

Azrael's grip on the chain tightened.

He only had one last shot.

A gamble.

As the Stalker raised its claw for the final strike, Azrael yanked the chain again—this time, pulling a slab of stone loose from the ruins above.

The heavy block came crashing down.

Right onto the Stalker's head.

A deafening boom echoed through the ruins as dust and debris exploded into the air. Azrael shielded his face, coughing as he struggled to see.

Then… silence.

The system chimed.

[Entity Neutralized: Wraithborn Stalker]

[Experience Gained: 150]

[Task Progress: 1/?? Completed]

Azrael collapsed onto his back, gasping for air. His entire body ached, but a grin tugged at his lips.

He was still alive.

For now.

But as he stared up at the blood-red sky, a sinking realization hit him.

This was just the beginning.