Toby stood straight, gripping the sword tightly in his hand, his body glowing with newfound power. The black smoke curled around him like a living veil. The raiders rose to their feet and rushed toward him, now able to see through the fading dust.
But something was different.
Toby's eyes were dry, yet they felt clearer than ever. As the first few raiders approached, everything around him slowed. Their movements were sluggish predictable.
"I see," Toby whispered, scanning the battlefield. "Are these the eyes of the old man who witnessed a thousand battles?"
His grip on the hilt tightened. Moving with a speed he never knew he had, Toby darted forward like wind itself was carrying him. In a precise flurry of strikes, he disarmed the first attackers, their weapons shattering beneath his blows.
"These eyes... they're magnificent. I'll cherish them," he muttered, before decapitating the man in front of him and spinning around to knock another unconscious.
"What is this?! This isn't the boy from before look at him! His moves, his strength this is madness!" one of the raiders shouted, stepping back in fear.
"W-We need Guzmar! Find him!" another barked, signaling a few others who immediately turned and fled into the smoke.
Toby didn't chase them. Standing amidst the silence, he felt something strange an unfamiliar confidence swelling in his chest.
"Siegfried... what is this? I feel so powerful..." But this time, Siegfried didn't answer.
Toby immediately looked around, his breath catching at the sight of the devastation the raiders had left behind. Without hesitation, he rushed toward the wreckage, searching for survivors.
He came across an old man trapped beneath the collapsed wooden beams of what used to be his home. Without thinking, Toby dropped to a knee and grabbed the heavy support pillars. Using every ounce of strength yet somehow, feeling no strain he lifted the beams like they were weightless. The old man crawled free, gasping.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" the man cried before stumbling away to safety.
Toby didn't stop. He ran through the ruins of Salthbridge, helping the wounded, pulling people from the rubble, offering his hand wherever it was needed.
With each passing moment, he could feel it this form, this power it was beyond anything he had ever known. It was more than strength. It was clarity. Speed. Focus. He felt invincible.
But then, his thoughts narrowed. One person mattered more than all his mother.
He dashed toward the remains of their home. But just as he turned a corner, a solid wall of force struck him square in the face. A massive object had appeared out of nowhere, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"What... what was that?" he groaned, forcing himself up.
Before him stood a giant of a man bald, bearded, and armored head to toe. A massive warhammer rested casually on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. The man let out a low, gruff laugh.
"So, you're the one who gave my boys trouble," the man said with a growl of amusement. "Guess the rumors were true... there really is a Forsaken One here."
He cracked his neck and stepped forward, radiating menace. "Name's Guzmar Kril, leader of the Steelblood Raiders. Mind telling me your name, boy? I like to know who I'm killing."
Toby stood tall, bloodied but unbroken. He looked the man in the eye, voice steady.
"I'm Toby... Toby Di Roy."
The name wasn't his by blood but by bond. A tribute to the sword, to the man, who had made him who he was.
"Di Roy… Unique. I'll remember it at least until you die!" Guzmar roared, his voice like a thunderclap. He stepped forward, and the very earth beneath his foot cracked in a spiderweb pattern from the sheer force of his weight.
Before Toby could brace or react, Guzmar moved fast, far faster than a man of his size should. In an instant, the warhammer was beneath Toby's guard, slamming into his gut from below. The impact lifted him from the ground, sending him flying upward with brutal force. Blood sprayed from his mouth mid-air.
The pain was immense. Toby felt his insides twist and burn as if something had torn loose. His vision blurred as his body screamed in agony. The raiders had been nothing this was on an entirely different level. Who was this man?
That thought cost him everything.
In the next heartbeat, as he hung in the air, Guzmar stepped in again this time with a savage upward swing straight to Toby's chin. The hammer struck like a battering ram, launching him like a broken ragdoll through the air. He crashed into the ground with such force it carved a trench nearly fifteen feet long, dirt and stone thrown aside in the wake.
Toby lay at the end of it, unmoving at first, then trembling as he tried to lift himself up. Blood spilled from his mouth, forming a dark pool beneath his face. His arms shook violently.
"What… what…" he breathed, trying to focus. But everything was spinning, twisting. His ears rang, and his limbs refused to cooperate.
"My balance… where's my balance…? What is this… why is everything so loud…?"
His thoughts spiraled as he tried again to rise only to fall back, helpless. His vision swam. His ears thundered with a static that drowned out all else. For the first time, Toby Di Roy wielder of Siegfried, bearer of the Hollow Name was completely overwhelmed.
Guzmar stepped closer, looming over the broken body of Toby. His voice was calm, but thick with cruelty.
"So much for the mighty Toby Di Roy," he said with a twisted grin. "I'm lucky, aren't I? When I saw that Veil ignite, I nearly pissed myself. But then I realized you're just a boy, still wet behind the ears. You don't even know how to control your own Wraithwake. What a waste... at least, for you."
Toby, bruised and bloodied, slowly raised his head. His eyes, red with pain and defiance, stared up at the towering brute.
And then
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
Guzmar's heavy, iron-clad boot came crashing down onto Toby's head.
"You worthless little shit!" he snarled, spitting each word like venom. "Acting like some hero. Like you're something special! Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Without pause, he reeled back and delivered a brutal kick into Toby's stomach. The force of it launched Toby like a ragdoll, tearing through the ruined earth like a wrecking ball. Dust and rubble followed in his wake as he hit the ground hard, motionless for a moment.
Toby lay motionless, his breath shallow, each inhale like a blade scraping through his chest. Blood pooled beneath him, his vision flickering between darkness and blinding light. The world spun, warped, and shattered around the edges.
"Sie... Sie..." he rasped, barely forming the name, voice cracked and broken.
Then, from the haze of pain and exhaustion, a voice, familiar and strong, pierced the veil of his mind.
"As I told you, Toby... I gave you all I could. The forms, the discipline, the ideals of what it means to stand as a knight."
Siegfried's voice echoed like wind across the plains, calm and unwavering.
"But there is one thing I could never give you experience. Without it, no skill, no gift, no weapon will save you. And in real battle, even the weakest enemy can cut you down like grass."
Toby's world shifted again. In his mind's eye, he saw it a vast, green field under swirling skies. In the center, a single weathered cross marked the earth, and there knelt Siegfried, chained in thick, spectral black chains, like a condemned beast before execution. The wind howled, gentle but endless, carrying the scent of steel and sorrow.
"I'm nothing," Toby whispered. "It hurts. It burns. I thought I had grown... I thought we became one. But I'm still nothing, Siegfried. What do I do? Everything is so loud, so blurry... so bright..."
He reached out not physically, but with every ounce of soul he had left toward his teacher, toward that one anchor he still believed in.
"This... this form he called it a Wraithwake," Siegfried answered, voice growing clearer. "I don't know what it truly is. But this this storm inside you it's the edge of something greater."
A pause. The sound of shifting chains.
"When I faced opponents stronger than me, I didn't pray. I didn't beg. I risked everything. I gave everything I had for a single moment to break fate. That's what you must understand."
"To die for victory is foolish. But to risk death for it... that's something only those with nothing left to lose can do."
Toby's eyes snapped open.
He was still in the crater. His limbs trembled, pain screamed from every muscle, but his heart the core of him burned steady now, not in panic but in resolve.
The ground trembled as Guzmar stepped into view, towering above him like a mountain of iron and rage. The warhammer rested lazily on his shoulder, eyes filled with anticipation.
Toby pushed himself up, slow but steady, his breath ragged, voice weak yet burning with curiosity.
"What is... this Wraithwake form?" he asked, confusion and awe woven into every word.
Guzmar scoffed, resting his massive warhammer on the ground with a low thud.
"So green, and yet already awakened... You're lucky, brat." He cracked his neck and smirked.
"Wraithwake is the first true threshold for any Wielder. When your soul and Hollow resonate, your body becomes a vessel for their shared power. Your strength, speed, perception they all skyrocket. And, if you're compatible enough, you might even touch the edge of your Hollow's abilities."
He raised one gloved finger.
"But it's not just about strength. You need the right weapon. Enough Veil within you. Discipline. Control. Otherwise, you'll burn out fast. Wraithwake is the most basic step but for many, it's also the final one before death."
Toby furrowed his brow, the explanation settling like a heavy fog in his mind. It made sense. Some of it. Enough to spark more questions.
"Then where is yours?" he asked, gaze locked on Guzmar. "You're the first Wielder I've met in battle. I want to see it your form. Let me learn. Show me what a real Wielder can do."
But before Guzmar could respond, something shifted.
A strange lightness surged through Toby's chest, spreading like ripples in still water. The aches dulled. The pounding in his head softened. His blurred vision cleared. Even his hearing steadied as the chaotic noise dulled into clarity.
Guzmar narrowed his eyes.
"Hmph. So that's how it is..." he muttered.
Toby glanced down, stunned. His Wounds cuts, bruises, even the bloodied scrapes were fading. The flesh beneath shimmered faintly, wrapping itself whole again. It wasn't healing like before. This was different.
"My... stamina... my body..." Toby whispered, clenching his fists.
He could feel his strength returning, not just patching up but rebuilding. Stronger. Calmer.
Even Guzmar had to admit, beneath his gruff demeanor
"Now this is getting interesting."
"I see now... Well, you said you wanted to see it didn't you?" Guzmar grinned, wild and sharp. "Then be my guest!"
He raised his warhammer high into the air, then brought it crashing down into the ground with monstrous force.
BOOM
a shockwave exploded outward, shattering the earth in a thunderous roar.
"IGNITE YOUR TUSKS ERYMATRA!"
A violent surge of energy erupted from beneath him, a pillar of swirling Veil tearing through the air like a storm released. The pressure of it shook the ground as wind and dust spiraled in chaos.
Toby watched, stunned, as Guzmar's body began to shift no, evolve.
His already massive frame swelled further, muscles doubling in size as his bones cracked and reshaped under the power of the Hollow within. Veins glowed beneath his skin, pumping dark energy like molten iron. His armor fused with coarse, thick fur sprouting from his shoulders, back, and chest, turning his silhouette into something bestial feral.
The warhammer warped with the transformation, the square head splitting and reforming into a savage boar-tusked warpick, its edges serrated like jagged fangs. The haft extended, reinforced with bone-like ridges and black steel cords.
Then came the final mark: two massive, curved tusks tore out from his lower jaw, gleaming with a bone-white shine and pulsing with energy. His eyes burned amber beneath a cracked helm, and steam hissed from his maw as he exhaled half-man, half-monster.
This wasn't a man anymore. This was a beast built for war.
"Behold, boy," Guzmar snarled, voice now deeper, reverberating like rolling thunder.
"This is what true Wielders become when they stop holding back."
Toby stood frozen for a moment, jaw clenched, heart pounding. He could feel it in his bones the massive gulf between their power. Guzmar's Wraithwake form wasn't just an enhancement; it was a full transformation. A true fusion of man and Hollow. By comparison, Toby's awakening felt… incomplete. Raw. Like a spark struggling to become flame.
Still, he had to focus.
"Alright… I'm about to fight a real monster."
He took a sharp breath, sizing up his opponent.
"Judging by his build, his greatest strengths are probably raw power and durability. But with that kind of size… it should slow him down, at least tenfold. No way something that massive can keep up with high-speed combat. Right?"
That's when he heard it.
"Is that what you were thinking, Toby?"
Guzmar's voice cut clean through the tension like a blade of ice. Toby's spine stiffened he hadn't said it out loud. The fact that Guzmar had echoed his thoughts sent chills through him.
"You're a smart fighter. I'll give you that." Guzmar's tone was playful, almost mocking, as he stepped forward. Each step cracked the earth.
"You read my style, thought through my strengths, and tried to find the hole in my armor. It's a good instinct. But let me ask you something-"
Guzmar raised one massive hand and tapped the side of his temple.
"What if I already thought of that?"
Toby narrowed his eyes.
"No… don't tell me you can move even faster than before."
That's when Guzmar laughed. A booming, guttural sound that echoed across the broken town like thunder.
"Faster?" he said, grinning wide, tusks glinting in the light.
"Boy... you haven't even seen me begin."
Toby immediately shifted into a guard stance, instincts firing on over dříve but it wasn't enough.
DING!
A deafening, metallic chime echoed across Salthbridge as Guzmar's warpick collided with Toby's blade. The sheer force of the impact sent Toby rocketing into the sky like a cannonball.
"What… what power…" Toby thought in a daze, the world spinning around him. The town below shrank with terrifying speed, the rooftops growing smaller, distant.
Blood spiraled around him his blood.
"Just… one strike," he whispered, eyes barely open. "He ended it… in one…"
He couldn't finish. He couldn't even feel the lower half of his body anymore—it was gone. Vaporized in the impact. The wind screamed past him as his ascent slowed. Then, gravity took hold.
And Toby began to fall.