Chapter 32 – Thieves of Endings

The wind in Tomb Hollow howled, but it was no natural breeze. The sound twisted with an eerie, hollow resonance, as if the very atmosphere itself was mourning the forgotten deaths buried beneath its streets. Tomb Hollow, a city forsaken by time and memory, lay atop a ruin of uncountable graves—graves of sects whose names had been erased from history, whose deaths had gone unclaimed. Their spirits were lost to the void, their deaths consumed by an insidious force that gnawed at the fabric of existence itself.

Rin Xie stood at the edge of the city's crumbling gate, his senses tingling with the sharp edge of danger. His Death Core hummed in response to the oppressive atmosphere, but something was off. The air was thick with the scent of decay, yet there was no sign of the usual death qi. Instead, there was an unsettling stillness—like the world itself had forgotten how to die.

"Who disturbs the End?" a voice rasped, breaking the silence. Rin's gaze snapped to the figure emerging from the shadows of a nearby alley. It was human—or at least, it had once been. The figure was gaunt, its skin drawn tight over its bones, its eyes wide and empty, like the hollow sockets of a skull. But the most disturbing feature was the mouth—split wide like a gaping wound, dripping with something black and viscous.

Before Rin could react, the creature lunged, its hands reaching for him with unnatural speed. He barely dodged, but the creature's fingers grazed his arm, sending a jolt of cold through his veins.

"They feed on death," Rin murmured under his breath, his thoughts racing. He had encountered many twisted forms of life in his travels, but these creatures were different. Their flesh seemed to pulse with the echoes of forgotten souls, as if they were parasites, feeding on death itself to sustain their existence.

He stepped back, raising his hand, ready to unleash Void Eulogy—a technique he had refined over countless battles. But as his fingers curled into a fist, something strange happened. The very air around him thickened, constricting his movements. A strange pressure settled over his chest, as if the city itself was holding him captive.

The city. Tomb Hollow.

Rin's gaze darted across the landscape, taking in the decaying spires, the crumbling stone walls, and the broken bridges that spanned dried-up rivers. Every inch of the city seemed to be constructed atop the graves of forgotten beings—those who had lived and died in obscurity, whose names had been swallowed by the void. The city itself was built on unclaimed deaths.

His gaze flickered back to the creature, which was now circling him, its lips curling into a grotesque grin. "We are the Thieves of Endings," it hissed. "We take what was never named."

Rin's blood ran cold at the words. The realization hit him like a hammer—these creatures were not merely feeding on death. They were consuming the essence of those who died unremembered, those whose deaths had no name, no significance.

"I won't let you," Rin growled, his voice low and dangerous. He extended his hand again, focusing on the void within him, drawing upon the power of his Death Core. Void Eulogy.

But the pressure on his chest intensified, and his power wavered. The city's strange energy bound him, restricting his ability to call upon the full force of his techniques. His heart pounded in his chest as the realization dawned—this realm did not obey the rules of linear cultivation. Here, death was not an orderly process. It was chaotic, twisted, and fragmented.

The creature cackled, sensing his hesitation. "You cannot fight what does not obey the flow of time," it sneered, its voice reverberating with an unnatural echo. "Here, death is a mere trinket, discarded and forgotten. We feast on it, and with each feast, we remain... sane."

Rin's grip on his power tightened, frustration boiling within him. But as he focused deeper, he felt a strange pulse emanating from the depths of his core. It was faint at first, a whispering, almost imperceptible sound. And then he understood.

Death must be named.

The unclaimed deaths—the forgotten souls—had no anchor. No name. No meaning. In this realm, death could not take root without being recognized, without being given significance. Without being honored.

Rin's thoughts turned back to the creatures, to the Thieves of Endings. They were parasites, feasting on that which had no value, consuming the forgotten deaths to keep themselves anchored to the world of the living. And they were not the only ones who had done so. In his past, he had seen sects and powers who reveled in the deaths of the weak, the forgotten, the insignificant.

But not anymore. Not under his watch.

He inhaled deeply, forcing his focus to sharpen. His blood seemed to burn beneath his skin, and for the first time since entering Tomb Hollow, Rin felt the stirrings of his true power. He extended his arm and traced a symbol in the air—an ancient sigil, one he had seen in the depths of his dreams, a symbol of remembrance.

His voice rang out, clear and resonant, as he whispered the first name that came to his mind—the name of a child he had once failed to save.

"Aylin."

The sigil in the air flickered with a burst of energy, and for a brief moment, the pressure in the air around him lessened. The creature recoiled, its eyes widening in recognition.

"Impossible..." it hissed. "You... you give names to the dead?"

Rin stepped forward, his movements deliberate, as the sigil began to glow brighter. The power of his Death Core surged within him, feeding off the newly named death, and with it came a deep, unsettling sense of clarity.

"I give meaning to the end," Rin replied coldly, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten lives.

With a sweeping motion of his hand, Rin called upon the power of Void Eulogy again. This time, the technique erupted from his palm with a force that shattered the air itself. The creature, its hollow eyes filled with terror, tried to retreat, but it was too late. The blast of void energy consumed it, erasing its very existence from the world.

As the creature crumbled to dust, Rin stood still, his breathing heavy. His hand, still bloodied from where he had etched the name of Aylin onto his skin, trembled ever so slightly. The power that surged through him was exhilarating, but it was also a reminder of the weight of his vow.

Every death would be remembered. Every soul would be honored.

Rin turned, his gaze scanning the decaying city. He had made a promise to himself, and he would see it through.

"Tomb Hollow," Rin muttered, his voice carrying a note of finality. "Your feast ends now."

The creatures, the Thieves of Endings, were not the true threat. They were symptoms of a greater disease—one that ran deeper than this city's boundaries, a sickness that permeated every realm, every sect, every civilization. A disease of forgotten deaths.

And Rin would be the cure.

As he stepped forward, his footsteps echoed through the hollow streets, each step a declaration. The city trembled under the weight of his resolve, and for the first time in centuries, the forgotten graves of Tomb Hollow began to stir.

For death, when named, became something far greater than mere sustenance.

It became power. It became purpose.

And Rin Xie would be the one to wield it.

To be continued…