Chapter 85: Guardians of Corruption
Their northward trek proved far more grueling than anticipated.
The acid‐mist bog that Karrion had warned about nearly drained the last reserves of their strength.
The acrid vapor behaved like a living thing—seeping through every seam, eating away at cloth and bare flesh. Each step felt as though they trod upon a bed of scorching needles.
Raine's leg wound split anew, oozing inky black ichor.
Thalia's cloak hem had been chewed to tatters, and her cough grew more frequent and rasping with every labored breath.
Relying on a dwarf's innate geomantic instinct and sheer stubborn will, Karrion somehow carved a relatively safe route through the three‐foot‐thick acid haze.
Even so, when they staggered free of the deathly quagmire onto firmer ground, all three were on the brink of collapse.
The landscape before them opened up just a fraction.
Though the trees remained grotesque, they no longer packed the horizon as tightly as at the marsh's edge.
Beneath their feet lay a thick mantle of dank, moldy black leaf‐litter—spongy to the tread and occasionally swallowing boots down six inches.
The air bore a strange mingling of rot and an indescribable, fleeting purity.
"This is it…" Karrion panted, gesturing toward a sinkhole ahead. "I recall the map marking this spot—terrain all wonky, like something smashed into it."
His tone was ragged, yet his eyes glinted with reluctant hope.
"Star‐tear Spring… could it lie near here?"
Raine braced himself against the gnarled trunk of a nearby tree to steady his wavering legs.
He, too, sensed a subtle change.
The faintest note of crispness lingered in the air, piercing the forest's miasma with a ghost of forgotten purity.
The star‐shard at his breast glowed with a soft, steady warmth.
Thalia stood at the sinkhole's rim, hooded face tilted slightly skyward as though tuning into an unseen frequency.
Her breath came so faintly it was nearly imperceptible, every line of her frame beneath the cloak appearing delicate as spun glass.
"The energy… is so pure…" she whispered, voice trembling on the verge. "Yet… chaotic, as if something is… holding it down."
No sooner had the words fallen than the earth convulsed.
It was no gentle tremor but an upheaval as if a colossal creature stirred far below.
Leaf‐litter erupted skyward; nearby dead trees groaned under the strain, limbs snapping like brittle bones.
"Watch out!" Karrion bellowed, hefting his warhammer before him in a shield of steel.
The quakes came in succession.
Like a giant's heartbeat—once, twice, thrice… each pulse stronger and more rapid.
Cracks seared the earth around them, the black soil giving way to the yawning void below.
Then, with soul‐chilling groans of stone and the tearing of vines, three titanic forms emerged from the depths.
They looked as though conjured from the forest's darkest nightmares and the hardest obsidian.
Their bodies were obsidian‐hard, slick with an oil‐like sheen, veins of writhing, serpent‐like corruption creeping across their chests.
The vines slithered into every crevice, pulsing like vile, living arteries, reeking of rot.
One could barely discern a quadruped silhouette; close inspection revealed sickening mutations.
No eyes—only hollows aflame with eerie green fire.
No maw—only rending fissures dripping viscous black ichor.
Each towered dozens of feet, each ponderous step shaking the earth beneath their weight.
Awakened by the forest's taint, their sole instinct was to purge any who dared encroach upon this forbidden realm.
"By the gods… they're real!" Karrion's voice cracked as he clenched his hammer, knuckles whitening.
The guardians did not strike at once; they merely shifted their colossal forms, encircling the trio.
Those green‐flamed voids glowed like three deathly spotlights, fixing on their prey.
The oppressive weight of their presence pressed down like physical shrapnel.
Raine reeled, not just from dread but from the overwhelming, unadulterated corruption radiating from these behemoths.
They appeared powered by countless years of this land's twisted energy.
"What do we do?" Raine rasped, turning to Thalia.
Thalia did not speak. Instead, she raised her hand, weaving a swirl of shadow into her pale fingertips.
That magic was viscous as ink, yet under the guardians' aura, it seemed to waver and fade.
"What choice do we have?" Karrion roared, charging the nearest guardian first.
Like a living cannonball, the dwarf slammed into the beast's foreleg joint, warhammer singing through the air.
Clang!
A deafening ring of steel on stone.
Sparks flew in golden showers.
The recoil sent Karrion stumbling back several paces; his gauntleted hand went numb with shock.
On impact, the obsidian‐like hide yielded only a faint white scar.
Not a single crack.
Infuriated, the guardian bellowed—a sound like a mountainside fracturing.
The corruption vines surged, whipping out like countless black serpents at Karrion with lightning speed.
"Watch out!" Thalia screamed, unleashing several shadow‐arrows at the advancing tendrils.
The arrows hissed on impact, briefly slowing the vines' onslaught.
Yet more vines poured in, weaving a monstrous net that threatened to engulf the dwarf.
"Damn you!" Karrion roared, swinging his hammer to parry, but the onslaught was relentless, enormous in force and speed.
Thick vines coiled around the hammer, yanking it back with brutal force and nearly sending him sprawling.
Another barbed tendril struck like a viper at his face.
Raine's heart clenched in terror.
He saw a flicker of despair in Karrion's eyes.
There was no time left!
In that instant, it felt as if his skull had been impaled with a scorching spike.
Agony!
An indescribable pain washed over him.
His vision shattered into countless flickering shards and warped lines.
Time stretched and snapped back in cruel disarray.
A maelstrom of images and sound flooded his mind.
The leviathan forms, the lash of vines, Karrion's battle‐cry, Thalia's magical radiance…
And fragments of more ancient, indistinct visions…
Age‐old runes gleamed on stone, starlight sifted down, some ritual unfolding…
Then corruption spread, runes dimmed, buried beneath black vines…
But not entirely!
On the guardian about to crush Karrion, at its left chest, lay a palm‐sized patch where vines thinned and the underlying rock was noticeably lighter…
There, an ancient, intricate sigil glowed faintly!
It resisted the rot, preserving a last flicker of purity!
A weakness!
This was the key!
"Thalia!" Raine screamed through his agony, voice ragged with pain, "The left one—its chest—hit the sigil!"
Before the words even echoed, blackness claimed him, his limbs gave way, and he collapsed backwards.
The backlash of starlight surged like a tidal wave, obliterating his remaining consciousness.
Thalia heard the anguished cry.
Though weak and warped, those words struck her mind like thunder.
Sigil? Weakness?
She hesitated not for a heartbeat.
Instinctively, she gathered every scrap of focus and magic she had left.
She ignored the other two guardians' threatening stares and Karrion's fierce battle clamor.
Her eyes fixed solely on the guardian poised to crush Karrion and the spot Raine had indicated.
Shadow‐energy swirled at her fingertips, denser than ever, tinged with a malevolent crimson.
She felt every cell in her body cry out in protest.
The star‐core shard in her chest burned in searing waves, as if ripping her torso apart.
Yet she stifled the agony.
Her gaze, razor‐sharp, locked onto the half‐veiled ancient sigil.
There!
Drawing a ragged breath, she unleashed the shadow‐energy at its limit.
A thick beam of shadow, almost tangible and brimming with annihilation, struck the guardian's chest‐sigil with surgical precision!
Vwng!
At that instant, her chest, through the torn cloak, erupted in blinding light.
Brighter than ever before, eclipsing the guardian's eerie green blaze.
Yet the glow wavered like a dying candle in the wind, as if it could die out at any moment.
The shadow beam struck the sigil dead‐center.
No cataclysmic blast followed.
Only a glass‐shattering crack echoed.
The guardian stiffened abruptly.
The corruption vines wilted instantly, drooping like dead weeds.
Its burning green fire flickered violently, then died.
The massive stone form crumbled, collapsing into heaps of rubble and ebony dust.
Almost simultaneously, the other two guardians also faltered—movements slowing and stiffening before they, too, disintegrated into debris and dust.
The battle… was over.
Karrion tore free from the withered vines, surveying the wreckage, the motionless Raine on the ground, and the swaying Thalia—horror etched across his face.
"All… that? Just like that?" he muttered in disbelief.
Thalia stood trembling in place.
The dazzling glow from her chest had faded, but the lingering agony nearly stole her breath.
A metallic sweetness welled in her throat.
She bowed her head and clamped her hand to her mouth, coughing violently.
Blood seeped between her fingers, splattering the dark leaf litter in stark contrast.
Swiftly, she wiped the crimson smear from her lips with her sleeve, bracing herself upright so Karrion would not see her weakness.
Yet overwhelming weakness crashed over her; her vision blurred, and her legs buckled.
She could barely remain standing.