A monstrous, sinewy creature crashes down from the ceiling with the force of a meteor, sending debris flying. Its skin is pulsing black, veins glowing faintly with purple energy. Dozens of twisted eyes open across its chest as a maw stretches wide on its face.
Faith (screaming): "Above—MOVE!"
The team rolls away just in time as the creature's massive claws rip through where they stood. Dust and bone fragments explode outward.
Dorian (yelling):
"Formation, NOW!"
Vance immediately launches a surge of golden flame—but before the flames can touch the creature, they're siphoned in, absorbed into its body. The monster's muscles swell, eyes flare brighter.
Alice (horrified): "It's absorbing it—!"
Vance (staggering): "What the hell?! I—my magic—just made it stronger!?"
The beast screeches—a grotesque chorus of screams layered into one as if thousands are crying out from inside it.
Dorian (eyes wide, voice tight): "No... no, this isn't Ulvareth. The intel was wrong..."
Everyone turns to Dorian, confused and afraid.
Dorian (grim, drawing his weapon):
"This is Threxal. The Devourer Magic."
Logan (quietly): "The... most powerful one?"
Dorian (sternly): "Magic won't work. It feeds off arcane energy—it evolves with it. Every spell we throw just fuels it. If we fight it like any other monster... we die."
Threxal tilts its head—grinning, impossibly. Its claws scrape the floor, sparks flying, like it's playing with its prey.
Elias (stepping forward): "Then we don't fight it like any other monster."
Dante stood tight in fear
Threxal lunges again, its grotesque limbs cracking the stone as it chases them deeper into the ruins. Each stomp shatters the floor, each roar shakes the very air. The team scatters, dodging death by inches.
Alice (panting): "Why is it so fast—!"
Faith: "It's toying with us!"
Vance, despite Dorian's warning, casts a wide flame barrage to slow the beast. The fire splashes against Threxal—but is instantly absorbed into its twisted form. Threxal's chest splits open, revealing a gaping void pulsing with chaotic energy.
Dorian (shouting): "Vance! I said NO magic—!"
Vance (breathing heavy): "I panicked, dammit!"
Threxal retaliates with a sonic shriek. The air ripples. Cracks race across the walls. Logan and Alice are thrown backward like a dolls, slamming into stone columns.
Logan (coughing blood): "I... can't... even move."
Elias (pulling him up): "You're not dying here. Not now."
Faith leaps between Alice and Threxal, using her protective barrier just in time as a barrage of claw slashes slam into it, sparks flying.
Faith (yelling through the pressure): "Fall back—we have to regroup—!"
Threxal (telepathic growl, reverberating in their heads): "Your hope... your light... it fuels me."
Elias' shadow twitches. His hand burns faintly with forbidden energy. His eyes flick toward the deeper chamber—where the second Echo lies, faintly pulsing.
Dorian (to Elias): "Don't even think about it! That thing will corrupt you—!"
Elias (desperately): "We're going to die like this!"
Dorian: "Then die with your soul intact!"
Threxal leaps again, and this time slams into the ground between them. The floor shatters completely, sending everyone tumbling into a lower level—dark, cold, and flooded with echoes of whispers.
They lie there, bruised, bleeding, barely able to move. Above, Threxal's growl echoes. It's hunting again.
Dim light filters through the cracks above. Blood trickles down broken stones. The team lies scattered, battered and breathless. The air is thick with fear. Faith kneels beside Alice, hands glowing faintly as she tries to mend a deep gash across her side.
Faith (straining, voice trembling): "Stay with me, Alice. Don't you dare pass out."
Vance coughs, wiping blood from his mouth, trying to stand. Logan, limping, stretches his arm — a small glyph flickers to life.
Dorian (furious): "Logan, no! Magic won't help—it'll feed that thing!"
Logan (frustrated, panicked): "I know! I just... I had to try something—!"
Dante stands nearby, frozen, staring at the darkness above. His fists are clenched, his body trembling—not in fear, but confusion. Shame. Elias looks around at the shattered group, the tension, the pain. Then quietly speaks, voice heavy with realization:
Elias: "...We've relied on magic for so long, it's become second nature. Like breathing."
He walks forward slowly, glancing at the burned remnants of a failed spell etched into the stone.
Elias (calm, introspective): "It's how we solve everything. Fight, heal, defend, even talk. We forgot how to survive without it."
Dorian (quieter now): "Magic is a tool. But Threxal... it turns tools into weapons against us."
Vance leans back, exhausted.
Vance: "I knew it wouldn't work. But doing nothing felt worse."
Faith (still healing, voice sharp): "We're not nothing. We're alive. That means we're still in this."
Alice opens her eyes faintly, smirking despite the pain.
Alice: "Remind me never to vacation in Cael Morhan again."
Even in darkness, they find a spark of resolve. The silence is broken only by the slow dripping of water — and the distant, low growl of Threxal echoing from above.
The air crackles with tension. Threxal prowls through the shattered chamber like a nightmare born of shadow and bone, feeding on every stray flicker of magic. The team scrambles, barely holding on — spells backfiring, wounds deepening.
Dante stands frozen. Not because of the monstrosity before him... but because he's watching them fall.
Alice screaming in pain. Vance coughing blood. Elias still standing, but barely, surrounded by dust and ash. Faith gasping, her healing light flickering. Dorian gritting his teeth, unable to act fast enough.
Dante (thinking, trembling): "They're going to die. One by one. I can't... I can't just watch."
Threxal screeches, absorbing another fire rune hurled desperately by Logan, growing larger—more twisted. Dante's breath quickens. His heart pounds.
And then—
Dante (shouting): "STOP!! Everyone STOP! No more magic!"
The cavern falls into stunned silence. Even Threxal momentarily halts, confused by the sudden shift.
Dante (stepping forward, voice steadying): "This fear... it's not Threxal. It's not the dark. It's the thought of losing all of you."
He throws his cloak to the side, revealing twin daggers strapped to his back. No glow. No enchantment. Just steel, worn and tested.
Dorian (quietly): "Dante—"
Dante (cutting him off): "I'm not like you. I don't have magic to lean on. I have them."
He charges forward. His movement is sharp — clean — focused. He slides beneath a tendril, spins past a strike, and leaps off the broken column. With a cry, he slams both daggers down —
SLASH!
Threxal howls. Black ichor splashes across the stone. It's the first real blow—and everyone watches, breathless.
Logan (stunned):
"He... he landed a hit..."
Faith (softly):
"He broke through..."
The team rises slowly, eyes locked on Dante standing alone, daggers dripping, body heaving—but fearless.
Dante (without turning): "Now fight smart. Not hard. No magic. We do this together."
For the first time... Threxal takes a step back.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and damp rot. Flickering torchlight barely pierced the cavern's choking darkness. Cracks lined the stone floor, soaked with ancient decay and freshly spilled crimson. The creature before them, Threxal, loomed like a nightmare cast in flesh—towering, lean, its body covered in slick, glistening muscle and bone armor, with faces screaming along its shoulders, remnants of those it had consumed.
The team stood in scattered formation, sweat pouring down, injuries fresh, the air vibrating with fear.
Dante didn't flinch.
"Logan! Alice! Fall back—NO MAGIC!" Dorian barked.
But it was too late—Vance, instinctive and desperate, fired a lightning arc. It struck Threxal's chest... and was absorbed instantly. The creature's eyes turned molten, veins lighting up with electric fury. It released a guttural, hideous shriek and launched forward—its jagged limbs cleaving the air with impossible speed.
SLASH!
Vance screamed as a shard-like claw tore through his side, hurling him like a ragdoll into the wall. Blood sprayed across Alice's face as she lunged to pull him back. Faith screamed.
"STAY BACK!" Dante shouted.
Dorian tried to intercept, sword raised, but even his movements were lagging—he wasn't used to fighting without spell-enhancement. His foot skidded on wet stone, just enough for Threxal to whip a tail-like tendril at him.
CRACK!
Dorian was thrown off his feet, colliding with a pillar. He coughed violently, ribs fractured.
"Dante! It's all you—" he wheezed.
Dante didn't respond. He moved.
Not like a soldier. Not like a mage. Like a beast.
He sprinted low, dragging one dagger across the ground, eyes locked onto Threxal's flickering, ever-shifting form. The creature lunged—Dante dove, slid beneath it, carving a deep gash into its underbelly. Black ichor gushed onto him, sizzling against his skin.
Threxal shrieked again—its voice a choir of agony—its limbs folding backward unnaturally, spines protruding mid-air as it spun to crush him.
Dante rolled under the strike, leapt onto its back. His dagger dug deep into the back of its neck, anchoring him as he drove his second blade between two armor plates. The thing bucked violently, crashing into the stone walls—its movements erratic, snapping bones protruding as new limbs burst from its ribcage.
"Come on, you ugly bastard," Dante hissed through gritted teeth, spitting blood.
Alice tried to move in—blades trembling—but her timing was off. The creature's tendril nearly impaled her before Elias yanked her back just in time. Still, the distraction allowed Threxal to hurl Dante off its back.
THUD!
Dante rolled, back arching in pain. Blood poured from his shoulder. His lip was split. Yet he stood again—laughing.
"Is that all, freak?"
Threxal screeched in rage, its massive jaw splitting open sideways—unhinging to reveal a gullet full of writhing tongues and pulsing eyes. It charged, slamming forward like a berserker.
Dante waited.
One step. Two. Three...
He sidestepped the rush, spun, and drove both daggers into the creature's exposed flank. A geyser of black blood erupted, drenching the cavern floor.
Dorian regained footing, sword drawn. "NOW!"
Together, the two warriors—one with steel, one with skill—sliced and stabbed with relentless precision, cutting deep into sinew and vital spots while avoiding the grotesque barrage of limbs. Still, the others barely held position, recoiling at every sound, every shriek.
Threxal swung wildly—slicing into its own surroundings, crumbling a portion of the cavern ceiling. Rubble rained down. A shard impaled Logan's thigh—he screamed in agony.
Dante didn't flinch. Blood dripped from his mouth, his leg shaking—but his eyes were alive.
"Stay the hell down," he growled.
With one final surge, he vaulted off a boulder, spinning mid-air. Both daggers aimed straight down—he landed on Threxal's upper back and drove them down into its skull.
CRACK!
The creature convulsed—black blood erupting like a fountain. It screeched one final time before collapsing to the ground in a twitching heap.
Silence.
Dante collapsed beside it, chest heaving, coated in blood that wasn't all his.
The others stared in disbelief.
Elias (whispering): "He killed it..."
Faith (gasping): "He killed Threxal with knives..."
Logan (in awe): "That was impossible."
Dorian (with a faint smirk): "No. That was Dante."
Threxal's corpse twitched one final time, a guttural hiss escaping its ruined throat before collapsing into stillness. Steam rose from its torn flesh, the stench of rot thick enough to taste. Everyone stood in silence, breath ragged, coated in blood—wounded, alive.
Dante knelt, hands on his knees, blood running from a deep gash on his shoulder. He tried to breathe.
The silence was broken by a faint... voice.
A whisper. Distant. Echoing.
"Dante..."
He turned.
A narrow corridor revealed itself—previously sealed by flesh now burned away. A door stood at its end, carved with ancient runes glowing faintly.
"Dante... come."
He stood. Limped forward. The voice wasn't threatening—it was inviting. Ancient. Familiar in a way that twisted the gut.
Elias turned sharply, gripping his temple as a pulse of cold shadow throbbed through him.
"You are mine..."
"Soon..."
He staggered back, jaw clenched, eyes flashing black for an instant. Faith steadied him.
Faith: "Elias... you okay?"
He said nothing, breathing hard. That voice... That presence was getting closer.
---
Dante reached the door. He pushed it open.
Inside: A circular chamber. The air was different—cleaner. Almost holy. Two ornate blades floated above a stone pedestal. Twin daggers, identical in shape, yet opposite in feel. One shimmered with silver-blue energy, the other pulsed with dark red heat. Symbols of Cael Morhan ran along the hilts—ancient, untouched by time.
Dorian arrived behind him—and froze.
Dorian (shocked):
"Those... no. It can't be. These are the Daggers of Cael Morhan."
Everyone turned to look.
Dorian stepped closer, almost afraid.
"They were made by a secret branch of enchanters—masters of both mana and steel. Forged with blood, soul, and spell. Lost for centuries. They're alive, in a way... They choose. You don't choose them."
Dante stared at them.
The whisper came again.
"Take us..."
He stepped forward. Slowly. Unsure. The others stayed back—almost instinctively.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the hilts—
A surge of energy exploded outward.
The blades shot into his palms, locking into his grip with a sound like thunder swallowing breath.
Everyone was thrown back a step.
The runes across the room lit up.
Dorian's eyes widened.
"They... they chose you."
Dante didn't move. He stood, both blades humming in his hands. His wounds stopped bleeding. His vision cleared.
Dorian (softly, in awe):
"You may not use magic... but these are filled with pure mana. They will answer you. They will protect you. You deserve them, Dante."
Dante (quietly): "...I didn't ask for this."
Dorian: "They did. And they don't choose wrong."
---
Behind them, Elias stumbled. The echo inside him screamed. Blood dripped from his nose. The shadow was pulsing faster.
"Your chains weaken, Elias..."
"We are coming."
Faith turned. "Elias—hey! Look at me—"
But Elias wasn't fully there anymore.
The chamber shifted the moment they stepped into it.
The walls bled black mist. The floor pulsed as though alive, veins of Echo energy flowing like corrupted rivers. The air was thick, not just with darkness, but with weight. Every breath felt heavy. Unnatural.
In the center, on a raised obsidian altar, floated the second Echo—a sphere of molten shadow, swirling and whispering, calling like a forbidden promise.
Dorian stepped forward, hands raised.
He began chanting in a forgotten tongue, forming glowing sigils in the air, trying to isolate the Echo—contain its influence before it could touch anyone.
Dorian (focused):
"No one get close! This one's stronger. I'll lock it in an arcane barrier. Just a few more—"
Suddenly—Elias froze.
His eyes widened, breathing ragged. The whispers surged again.
"You are mine... let go..."
Elias's hand reached forward. Unconsciously. Shaking.
Faith: "Elias? What are you—no!"
Alice: "Dorian! He's moving—stop him!"
Dorian (yelling): "Elias! NO—STOOOOP!"
But it was too late.
Elias stepped into the circle.
He grabbed the Echo.
A sickening pulse rippled through the chamber as the Echo shattered into him.
The black smoke surged into his eyes, his mouth, his chest.
He screamed.
His body convulsed, then collapsed violently onto the stone floor—silent. Still.
Dorian ran to him, falling to his knees.
"Elias?! Elias—NO—!"
He shook him. No response. His pulse—slow. Breathing—shallow. His veins were turning black along his arms. Eyes rolled white.
Dorian (rage and fear mixed): "I told you NOT TO TOUCH IT! Gods dammit, Elias! I warned you!"
The team stood in stunned silence. Even Dante, holding his new blades, could only stare.
Dorian (panting, nearly breaking):
"The first Echo... a Forsaken can sometimes survive that. It's drawn to their curse.
But more than one... connects you to the Old One directly. Nyxoth doesn't offer power... it burrows. It feeds on your darkness. Every whisper, every fear—it's all him. That second Echo just opened the door."
Alice turned to Dorian, eyes wide.
"Wait... you said something earlier...too "
Dorian's head snapped toward them.
"What are you hiding?"
Faith looked down, "...He already had the first Echo."
Vance : "WHAT?!"
Logan spoke quickly, trying to calm the storm.
"Yes! Yes—it happened at Arkwatch. We were going to tell you, but... it was supposed to be a secret. We didn't know how to explain it. But Elias survived. We thought maybe..."
Dorian (coldly): "Maybe he was strong enough? Maybe he could control it?"
He turned back to Elias, whose skin was now slightly pulsing with black veins. Shadows curled around his fingers like mist.
Dorian (almost whispering): "we were fools... we thought he was safe? No one's safe from Nyxoth. Not even him."
A long silence followed.
Dante knelt beside Elias, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"...Then we stay with him. We fight it. Together."
Alice looked at Elias, her voice cracking.
"Because if we don't... we might lose him."
Dorian looked up, his expression grim.
"You don't understand. He's already slipping. We just don't know how far."
They stayed around him, the silence thick and cold like the stone beneath them. The only sound was the flicker of the last rune Dorian had cast—fading into nothing.
Then—
Elias GASPED.
His body jerked as if lightning had shot through him.
He sat up with a violent jolt, eyes wide, mouth open, dragging in rapid, shallow breaths—his lungs fighting the weight of whatever darkness had surged into him.
Elias (gasping):
"Hhhaaa—AAGH!—I... I can't—breathe—what is—this—!?"
His eyes were not his own.
For a moment—just a flicker—they were pure black, swirling like storm clouds in a void. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
Dorian grabbed his shoulders.
"Elias! Breathe—listen to my voice. You're still here. You hear me?!"
Elias's breathing slowed, but his face was pale. Sweat poured down his temple. His fingers dug into the stone beneath him, clawing for stability—for sanity.
Elias (trembling):
"I heard them... I saw it... I saw it in the dark... the eyes... the endless eyes looking through me. They whispered my name."
He swallowed hard, trying to stay grounded.
Dorian (urgently):
"What did it say? What did it show you?!"
Elias (quietly, broken):
"Everything. My fears. My guilt. My blood.
And then... it said welcome home."
The team exchanged glances.
Alice, softly:
"He's slipping..."
Logan (stepping forward):
"No. He fought it. He's awake, isn't he?"
Elias turned to them, barely holding himself upright.
Elias (with difficulty):
"I tried to stop... but it knew me. The Echo didn't offer me power this time... it claimed me."
Faith knelt beside him, resting a hand on his chest to steady his breathing.
"You're here, Elias. With us. Not with it."
Dorian (firm, dark):
"From this point on, we walk a razor's edge. He's touched two Echos now. The veil between his mind and Nyxoth's will is almost gone. We can't afford a third."
Dante looked at Elias, eyes sharp.
"Then we make damn sure there won't be one."
Elias raised his head, still breathing heavily, eyes locked with Dante.
"If I ever lose myself... don't hesitate."
Dorian: "You'll fight. We'll fight with you. Until your last breath."
The chamber fell quiet again.
A moment of survival. But the price had only just begun.
The chamber still buzzed faintly with the residue of the Echo's presence. Elias sat slumped, blood smeared on his face, still trembling from what he had absorbed.
Faith, kneeling beside him, her voice desperate but trembling with hope:
Faith: "There has to be a way, Dorian... something to stop the Echo from corrupting him. We can't just... watch this happen."
Dorian, grim and steady, looked at Elias, then back at Faith. His eyes held centuries of knowledge—and a truth he wished he didn't have to speak.
Dorian: "There's only one way, Faith. Only one."
He took a step forward, his tone calm but final.
Dorian (softly): "It's Elias himself. The Echo doesn't corrupt through force—it seduces through fear, power, doubt.
If he wants to survive, he'll need something no spell can give—willpower. Discipline. Control."
He turned to Elias, eyes meeting his.
Dorian (firm): "You're the battlefield now. If you fall within... we lose you."
Faith clenched her fists, her voice cracking:
Faith: "Then we help him. All of us. He's not fighting this alone."
Elias, breathing deeply, lifted his gaze. His eyes were tired but clearer now. Still haunted... but alive.
Elias (weakly smiling): "Didn't think I'd be the cursed one with everyone rallying behind me..."
Logan: "We've all got our demons. You're just the only one who swallowed yours."
Dorian nodded.
"Then it's decided. From now on, we monitor him, we strengthen him, we stand by him."
He looked at Elias one last time.
Dorian (with quiet intensity):
"Don't let it in, Elias. Whatever it says... you are not alone."
The air in the ruined chamber was still heavy with the aftershock of Elias's second Echo consumption. The group lingered in silence, unsure of what this meant for Elias... and for themselves.
Vance, leaning against the cracked stone pillar, his arms folded, finally broke the silence.
Vance: "What are we going to tell the Council? You know they'll sense the energy. They'll know something happened."
Dorian, still watching Elias out of the corner of his eye, responded without turning.
Dorian: "We tell them the truth."
Everyone's head snapped toward him, surprised—until he continued.
Dorian (calmly): "...With a touch of fiction."
Alice, raising an eyebrow: "Elaborate 'fiction' or charming lies?"
Dorian: "We say Elias encountered the first Echo, drawn by accident. There was a surge, yes—but he contained it. No sign of corruption. No lingering influence. Everything is... under control."
Logan, frowning: "But he has two—"
Dorian (interrupting): "—and we don't speak of the first. Not yet."
Faith: "That's... risky."
Dorian: "It's necessary. If the Council finds out he's consumed two... the ruling will be immediate. Containment or execution."
Elias, speaking weakly from the floor:
Elias: "So we lie... for me."
Dorian, kneeling by him, voice low but sincere: "We protect you. There's a difference."
Dorian (firmly): "But this buys us time. Time for you to fight the corruption. Time for us to find a permanent solution. The less they know, the safer you stay."
Alice, sighing and brushing her hair behind her ear:
"Well, guess we're criminals now. Stylish ones."
Vance: "They'll look at you different, Elias. You okay with that?"
Elias, after a pause, met each of their gazes.
Elias: "I'd rather carry the truth... than let it destroy any of you."
Dorian (softly): "Good. Then let's carry it together."
The group slowly rose, their bond now heavier with secrets—but strengthened with loyalty.
END OF CHAPTER 12 : BLADE OVER SPELL