Three days had elapsed since the black spire collapsed.
Its fall created a shockwave in the valley, not only of power, but of terror. The skies over Vel'shara descended into unnatural quiet—birds disappeared, rivers ceased to flow, and the temple, once scarred by the Bound One's holy fire, was consumed by darkness.
Kai stood atop the weathered skycraft, the wind cutting across his face like razors of cold truth. The vessel—summoned by one of Venri's last functioning beacons—sputtered through the currents, held together more by will than metal. Its bones were scarred from the dungeon's tremors, but it flew.
Their destination was Nareth: a highland sanctum untouched, for now, by the corruption.
Kai hardly stirred. Under his skin, the resonance burn still throbbed—phantom coals smoldering over from containing a dragon he had not yet mastered. With each jerky motion, a dull thrumming resounded in his bones, as if something deep inside was trying its prison.
Footsteps shuffled behind him.
Venri climbed up from below deck, her robes ripped and bound where shadow-fire had seared her. Her eyes were weighed down, but keen.
"The Order sent word," she said quietly. "More spires are rising."
"How many?" Kai asked without turning.
"Seven. Two near the Skyfall Range. One in the sunken ruins of Aethir." She hesitated. "And one near the academy."
Kai's hand clenched the railing. "They're not random. They're hunting."
"Stones," Venri murmured. "And their wielders."
She extended a scroll—edges blackened and smoldering faintly with violet script. "Found in the last dungeon core. It's a ritual. But not of our time."
Kai unfurled it slowly. The parchment was blackened, fragile, but the markings within them were red and alive. Not ink—scar tissue. Every sigil vibrated with raw, primitive emotion—anger, sorrow, fear—constraining spirit to stone.
His Wyrm-Sigil burned painfully.
"This isn't just corruption," he said. "It's conversion."
Venri nodded. "They're turning the stones into something else. Something meant to devour instead of empower. Despair made manifest."
Suddenly, a low hum vibrated through the craft. Kai's chest rang with it—not a warning. A call.
The dragon he had recently awakened stirred—Voryn, the Echo-Binder. It shivered at the memory of the corrupted beast in the spire… the one that wore his father's face, knew his grief, spoke with his guilt.
"These rituals," Kai muttered, "they need emotion. Raw and real. That's why the dungeons are mutating. They're mirrors. Feeding grounds for trauma."
Venri's voice dropped. "Then what about yours?"
Silence.
Aren's last shout echoed in Kai's mind. His father's recollection, distorted and truncated. The weight of the parallel world. The dragons he had conditioned to obey him.
"If I go into one of those spires again." he whispered, starting, "I might not return the same."
Venri's fingers closed around his shoulder. "Then don't go at all."
The skycraft lurched violently. Sirens howled. Cracks rent the front panels.
Venri sprinted to the helm, her broken stave glowing faintly. "We're caught in a pull—gravitational, and massive! It's coming from below!"
Kai leaned over the side.
The clouds parted.
A floating island hovered below, cloaked in mist and ancient silence. As they watched, its surface split open—an immense stone ring rotating outward. A gate. A temple, carved into the very bones of the sky.
Not natural. Not coincidence.
The Wyrm-Sigil on Kai's back pulsed. His dragons stirred—frantic, roaring in silence. And one—slow, deep, and ancient—opened a single eye.
A name thundered into his mind:
Karythas. The Earth-Warden.
Venri gasped behind him. "There's a dragon buried here?"
Kai nodded. "Sealed. And it's calling to me."
Then they saw them.
Three figures stood atop the temple—cloaked in living shadow, barely solid. One stepped forward, half his face masked with bone. In his hand glowed a jagged crystal—shaped like the core of the fallen spire.
His eyes blazed violet.
Kai's blood chilled. "They're already here."
Venri gripped the controls. "Orders?"
Kai stepped back from the railing, unslinging his blade.
"We're not letting them wake it first."
The craft tilted, skewing towards the gate. Gales screamed past them. Lightning flashed under the clouds.
The tomb of Karythas yawned open.