The air was thick with tension as Nikos and his companions advanced deeper into the ruined stronghold. The battle against Varok had left them weary, but there was no time to rest. Frostveil still teetered on the edge of collapse, and the remnants of Skellith's forces lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.
Vaelin's storm-forged spear flickered with residual energy, the warrior from Voltaris scanning the wreckage ahead. "They'll be regrouping soon," he murmured. "We need to press forward before they recover."
Zara wiped her bloodied daggers on her cloak. "Agreed. But something feels… off."
Ali, ever perceptive, flicked his ears. "The air is different. Like something is watching."
Nikos felt it too—a whispering presence at the edge of his senses, like unseen eyes trailing their every move. His grip tightened around his blade. "We're not alone."
Before another word could be spoken, the shadows around them began to shift, unnatural tendrils of darkness curling and coiling like living things. Then, emerging from the gloom, figures clad in obsidian armor stepped forth. Their eyes burned with eerie crimson light, and their weapons—twisted blades pulsating with Tenebris' dark energy—seemed to hum with malignant intent.
Vaelin took a defensive stance. "Shadow Stalkers," he muttered. "Servants of the Dark Lord."
One of the figures stepped forward, his presence commanding. His armor bore markings of high rank, and his voice, when he spoke, was cold as death. "You should not have come here, Aetherborn."
Nikos held his ground. "And yet, here we are."
The Shadow Stalker leader chuckled, a hollow sound devoid of mirth. "Ignirath's return is inevitable. You fight a war you cannot win."
With that, the creatures attacked. The battle erupted in an instant, the clash of steel and the crackle of lightning filling the chamber. Zara and Ali moved with deadly precision, weaving through the enemies with lethal grace. Vaelin's spear unleashed arcs of Voltarian power, striking down foes in bursts of searing energy.
Nikos faced the leader directly, their blades meeting in a flurry of sparks. The weight of the dark warrior's strikes was immense, each blow threatening to shatter Nikos' defense. But he held firm, his own power surging in response.
Then, just as victory seemed within reach, a deafening roar shook the stronghold. The very walls trembled as an ancient, unseen force stirred. The shadows thickened, and from the darkness, a towering figure began to emerge.
The companions barely had time to react before the true battle began.
The veil of shadows had been lifted.
And something far worse lay beyond.