Chapter 75: Ashes Beneath the Veil

The silence after the fall of the Abyssal King was not peace—it was a warning.

Kael stood still, blade lowered, watching as the final wisps of shadow evaporated into the dead air. His breath was ragged. Every inch of his body ached from the relentless strain, but his heart was steady, unwavering. He wasn't the same fighter who had barely survived the corrupted dungeon. He had changed—hardened by battle, sharpened by loss.

But this realm… it still pulsed with dark intent.

"Something's wrong," Zera said coldly. Her voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "The Abyssal King was a guardian… not the source."

Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then we haven't reached the core."

Drayke cracked his neck, still twitching with leftover adrenaline. "Fine. More things to burn. Let's keep moving."

The terrain ahead shifted. The ground beneath them cracked and spiraled downward like a broken staircase made of obsidian and bone. With each step, Kael felt a heaviness press down on his chest, not just physical but spiritual—like the realm was trying to pull his soul out of his body.

Lyra walked beside him, her light aura flickering. She was growing weaker. Even her healing spells had started to falter. "We're pushing our limits. Kael… how much farther can we go like this?"

Kael looked over his shoulder at her. "Until it's done."

His voice didn't waver—but inside, doubt curled like smoke. He could feel his Ashen Aura resonating with something deep in the darkness. A calling. Or a curse.

They pressed forward. Deeper into the shifting heart of the Abyssal Realm.

The descent took hours. Or minutes. Time didn't seem to matter here.

When they finally reached the bottom of the spiral, they found themselves in a massive chamber. There was no ceiling, only an endless expanse of shifting black sky above. Floating relics drifted in the air—shards of weapons, armor, and crystalized aura, all shattered and corrupted. The ground pulsed beneath their feet like a heartbeat.

And at the center of it all stood a lone figure.

Cloaked in tattered violet robes, with a mask of bone and ember, the figure exuded an aura so dense it made even Drayke freeze mid-step. It wasn't the pressure of sheer strength—it was the weight of history, of something ancient. Something eternal.

Zera whispered, "I know that aura…"

Kael's eyes narrowed. "Who is it?"

The figure spoke. Its voice echoed in every direction at once—whispers layered over screams. "You bear the Ashen Thread. And yet, you deny its purpose."

Kael raised his sword. "I don't need purpose. I make my own."

"You carry the legacy of the Revenant King. The blade that consumed realms. And yet you hesitate."

The cloak of the figure billowed. From its shadow, a black spear formed—wreathed in flame and frost, shifting between elements as though the weapon itself were alive.

Kael's hand shook slightly. "You're… one of them."

Zera's eyes widened. "That's no ordinary enemy. That's a Harbinger. A direct servant of the Eternals."

The Harbinger lifted the spear. "Prove your worth, Ashen Soul."

Without warning, the battle erupted.

Kael dashed forward, clashing blades with the Harbinger in an instant. Sparks flew as metal met aura. The Harbinger moved like flowing water, impossible to predict. Each strike pushed Kael back, forcing him to adapt, to evolve mid-combat.

Drayke joined the fray, fists ablaze with Beast Flame, throwing wild haymakers that could level a fortress. The Harbinger absorbed the blows, then retaliated with a sweeping wave of abyssal flame that forced the group to scatter.

Zera struck from the shadows, her Cursed Mist swirling around the Harbinger like a vice, trying to bind it. But the Harbinger merely flicked his spear and the mist shattered like glass.

"You cannot chain death itself," it hissed.

Lyra focused, her light aura flaring in desperation. She summoned a massive barrier between Kael and the Harbinger just in time to block a killing blow.

Kael gritted his teeth. His body was beginning to fracture under the pressure. But in that moment—his aura pulsed.

Ash.

Then flame.

Then silence.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. Evolve… adapt… absorb.

From within, his Ashen Aura erupted, but something was different. It had threads of Celestial Light, fragments of Beast Flame, and a ghost of Cursed Mist. He had fought beside them for so long… that their auras had become part of him.

"Aura Sync," Zera breathed in disbelief. "He's doing it unconsciously."

Kael opened his eyes—and they glowed with embers and starlight.

With a roar, he surged forward. Every strike was now layered with hybrid energy. Light and shadow, flame and ash. The Harbinger stumbled. Its perfect form was no longer untouchable.

Kael ducked under the next strike and plunged his blade through the Harbinger's chest.

The Harbinger froze, then slowly staggered back. A hole now burned clean through its robes.

"You… truly are the Ashen Revenant," it whispered.

Kael didn't speak. He stepped forward, blade in hand, breathing hard.

The Harbinger dropped to its knees.

And laughed.

"Then the world will burn again."

With those words, the Harbinger's body dissolved into smoke, leaving behind only a single sigil etched in the floor—a swirling emblem of ash, blood, and flame.

The chamber began to collapse.

"We have to go!" Lyra shouted.

Kael turned to run, but not before one final whisper echoed across the chamber.

"When the Seventh Seal breaks… the Ashen One must choose."

They escaped the crumbling ruin, barely making it to a collapsing platform before being hurled through a rift of darkness.

When the light returned, they were back in Aurenya.

But nothing felt the same.

Kael looked at his hands. His aura was still flaring, still unstable. The Harbinger had awoken something in him—and now it wouldn't be quiet.

Not anymore.