Raine's consciousness sank as if plunged into an icy abyss.
Darkness swallowed him whole, and only that massive, indifferent eye floated in the void, radiating a bone-deep chill and a terror that gripped his very soul.
He didn't even feel himself fall—his body had long been stripped of control.
"Raine!" Karrion's shout echoed like a call from a distant world.
A pair of strong, calloused arms caught his limp form. The dwarf's warmth and the pungent scent of sweat pulled Raine back from the brink of total darkness.
"How is he?" Thalia's voice was cold, yet held the faintest tremor.
Her fingers brushed Raine's brow, shadow magic trying to seep in—only to be repelled by the raging turbulence of his Starborn blood.
Karrion shook his head, his expression grim.
"The mental backlash was too strong... Bloodline resonance, the will lingering in this cursed place… and that vision just now…"
He gently laid Raine down against a broken stone pillar.
Raine's breath came fast and shallow, his brow furrowed in pain as though he were still enduring a terrible torment even in unconsciousness.
The air grew suddenly colder.
Not the chill of the mountain, but a deeper, marrow-freezing cold—as if something was awakening from deep within the earth, hungrily draining all warmth.
The shadows around the ruins began to writhe and stretch unnaturally, twisting like living things.
"Hm?" Karrion snapped his head up, tightening his grip on his rune hammer. His lantern beam swept the surroundings warily.
"Something's coming…"
Thalia straightened, the darkness beneath her hood deepening.
She silently drew her shadow daggers, her body tensing like a panther ready to strike.
The air thickened with corruption—sickly sweet and venomously spiteful.
Shhh… shhhh…
The faint sound of dragging filled the silence.
At first it seemed like wind on rubble, but soon it became clear and distinct—like the shuffling of countless armored feet in tatters.
Something was gathering in the shadows.
They emerged slowly—from behind broken walls, out of pitch-black crevices, from beneath the mats of corrupted fungal growth.
Their forms coalesced into vague silhouettes… humanoid, once.
They wore broken Starborn armor, once silver but now blackened and crusted with rot, like dried pus.
Bare bones or shriveled flesh fused grotesquely with twisted metal and pulsing shadow vines.
Their hollow sockets burned with twin points of ghostly green flame—filled with hatred for the living and eternal suffering.
These weren't mere undead.
They were corrupted Starborn souls, bound and twisted by shadow, forever trapped in torment.
"Starborn… wraiths…" Karrion breathed, stunned.
"Damn it—Raine's bloodline resonance… it woke them!"
More emerged from every corner of the ruins, forming a loose encirclement.
Their movements were stiff, yet disturbingly synchronized, as though controlled by a single will.
A chorus of low, agonized moans filled the air—part protest against a cruel fate, part curse upon the intruders.
"Protect Raine!" Thalia snapped, shadow energy spilling from her like ink in water.
Just then, Raine groaned, his eyelids fluttering as if he were struggling to wake.
The beacon of his Starborn blood drew the lost kin like moths to flame.
ROAR!
One of the nearest wraiths let out a rasping scream, hollow eyes locked on Raine's still form.
It raised a heavily corroded longsword and lurched forward.
"Over my dead body!" Karrion roared, leaping to shield Raine.
His rune hammer swung in a wide arc, golden runes flaring and forming a shield of light.
CLANG!
The corroded sword struck the shield with a screech of metal and a burst of dark sparks.
The wraith was flung back, but Karrion grunted, his arms trembling under the impact.
"Strong bastards… they've been strengthened by corruption!"
The clash stirred the others.
Like sharks scenting blood, they surged in from all sides.
They retained some of their combat instincts, enhanced by twisted power—making them deadly foes.
Thalia flashed into motion, confronting two of the flanking wraiths.
Her daggers carved through the air in silent arcs, slicing at joints and corrupted cores.
Her strikes were swift and surgical—each aimed at a weak spot.
But the wraiths felt no pain. Even severed limbs didn't stop them—they attacked still, dripping black ichor and dark energy.
"They're… hard to kill!" Thalia called, breath quickening.
Her shadows could drive them back—but not sever their tie to this cursed land.
The fight turned fierce.
Karrion's hammer crushed bones with every swing, scattering corrupted essence in bursts.
His runes flashed bright, deflecting claws and blades—but each defense sapped more of his strength.
His shoulder wound tore open again, black blood mixing with sweat.
Thalia danced like a shadow among the dead.
Her blades lashed and stabbed, while tendrils of darkness crawled into the wraiths' hearts.
But there were too many, and they kept coming—from every dark recess of the ruins.
Raine's mind slowly cleared.
The pain in his head was still blinding, his body nearly useless—but the scene before him burned into his soul.
Karrion's bellows.
Thalia's ragged breath.
The wraiths' mournful cries.
And the faces—twisted, hateful… yet familiar.
His kin. His people.
Transformed into this.
A grief too deep for words and a fury sharp as steel surged in him, nearly choking him.
Then he saw it—a figure that stood out amidst the chaos.
Taller, more intact than the others.
Clad in ornate armor etched with celestial patterns—corroded, yes, but still regal.
Its movements were deliberate, deadly, gripping a massive greataxe wreathed in green flame.
Each swing drove Karrion back, his shield barely holding.
"Watch that one!" Karrion shouted, voice strained.
"That thing's stronger than the rest!"
Raine stared at the figure.
Its helmet had been partially broken, revealing a desiccated face—high cheekbones, a square jaw.
Familiar.
On the cracked breastplate, barely visible through the rot, he saw it—
a comet wreathed in seven stars.
The Morningstar crest.
His heart stopped.
"No… no…" Raine whispered, pupils narrowing.
The stance, the weapon, the armor—it matched the descriptions in his family's archives.
The long-lost hero of the corruption wars…
The war-axeman known as Blazewrath Auston Morningstar.
The hero he had seen in his vision… now a corrupted wraith, driven by hatred and pain.
The realization struck him like a hammer to the chest.
His ancestor.
His idol.
Now an enemy, twisted and screaming for blood.
"Auston… Ancestor…" Raine choked, voice breaking.
The massive wraith paused.
Its green flames flickered.
For a moment… confusion?
But pain and rage soon returned, burning brighter.
With a monstrous scream, it swung its axe again—Karrion barely blocked, gritting his teeth as the ground cracked beneath him.
"It's getting stronger!" Karrion roared.
Thalia, pinned by several wraiths, couldn't help.
She glanced toward Raine, her eyes darkening at the anguish on his face.
She realized—he had recognized the monster.
This blow ran deeper than wounds.
The spirit shattering pain of seeing one's hero… reduced to this.
The fight worsened.
The wraiths were relentless, empowered by corruption and driven by ancient pain.
Karrion's rune barrier was fading.
Thalia, pushing herself harder, unleashed deeper shadows—her aura turning colder, darker.
Her attacks grew more vicious—each strike dissolving corruption like acid.
Karrion noticed her shift and frowned.
That kind of shadow magic… wasn't typical.
And there was something strange about her power—it seemed to both oppose and resemble the wraiths' corruption.
A seed of doubt was planted in his mind.
"Raine! Do something!" Karrion shouted.
"Your blood—your power—it might work!"
Raine snapped out of his stupor.
Yes.
These were not enemies.
They were victims.
Trapped in eternal torment.
Slaying them solved nothing.
They needed purification.
"Purify…" he murmured, eyes firming.
He knew what it meant.
To free them, he had to end them himself.
To give peace to his kin—even to Auston.
A cruel burden.
But he had to carry it.
"I understand…"
He staggered upright, body barely responding.
He pressed his palm to his chest, willing his Starborn blood to rise.
Pain lanced through him as he summoned that pure celestial light.
"Thalia! Karrion! Give me an opening!" he called.
"I need to get close—to purify them with my blood!"
Thalia's eyes gleamed. She immediately struck harder, shadow tendrils binding several wraiths.
"Karrion—left!"
Karrion swung hard, clearing a path to Raine.
He glanced at him, face torn with worry—but nodded.
"Don't push too far, boy!"
Raine focused, gathering a thread of Starflame at his fingertip.
Weaponless, he moved toward a nearby wraith.
It lunged at him.
He did not dodge.
Instead, he thrust his glowing finger to its brow, pouring in his blood's pure energy.
"Rest now…" he whispered.
Hum—
The wraith convulsed.
Its green fire blazed, then flickered out.
Corruption evaporated.
Its face softened.
Then—silver dust.
It disintegrated into stardust.
Success.
But the effort drained Raine completely.
Still, he pressed on.
"Next!" he grit out.
Karrion and Thalia surged to support him.
Karrion held Auston at bay.
Thalia corralled more wraiths toward Raine.
One by one, he purified them—each act a wound to his soul.
Each left him weaker, paler.
But he endured.
Finally, only one remained—Auston Morningstar.
Karrion was bloody, his hammer's light nearly gone.
Thalia's breath came in gasps, her shadow magic unstable.
Raine dragged his feet toward his ancestor.
The wraith turned.
Its eyes met Raine's—still burning with pain and fury… but also a flicker of longing.
"Ancestor…" Raine whispered, voice shaking.
"Rest… please."
He reached out, poured his last light into Auston's ruined helm.
The wraith did not resist.
The green flames dimmed.
The rot receded.
The armor shone faintly once more.
The face—warped, dead—became peaceful.
It looked at Raine one last time…
Silent words passed between them.
Then—like the rest—Auston dissolved into stardust.
A single star mote settled on Raine's brow… and vanished.
Thud.
Raine collapsed.
He gasped for air, his soaked clothes clinging to him, his vision swimming.
The battle was over.
Silence returned to the ruins.
Karrion dropped his hammer and slumped down, bleeding.
Thalia leaned on a pillar, swaying, deathly pale.
Raine knelt, trembling.
He had done it.
He freed them.
But no triumph stirred in his heart.
Only exhaustion… and grief.
To deliver his own ancestor to peace—
To sever blood ties with his own hands…
It was a weight no soul should have to bear.
And now, his spirit…
was nearing its limits.