Chapter 3: The First Encounter
318 Words
The first soldier lunged forward, his movements jerky and unnatural. Kael didn't hesitate. He stepped to the side, his broken blade cutting a silver arc through the darkness. The steel met the soldier’s armor with a shower of sparks. Instead of blood, a thick, black smoke seeped from the wound.
"They are not human," Kael whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing. These were the Hollowed—warriors whose souls had been consumed by the Black Sun to serve as eternal puppets.
Elara scrambled back, clutching the relic to her chest. "The relic! It's reacting to their presence!
"As she spoke, the golden light from the cloth-wrapped object intensified, burning with a brilliance that forced the other approaching soldiers to shield their eyes. Kael felt a sudden surge of warmth in his own veins. The ancient mark on his forearm, the symbol of the Iron-Blood, began to glow in rhythm with the relic. For a moment, his broken sword felt whole again, vibrating with a forgotten power.
He let out a roar, a battle cry that had once shaken the gates of empires. With newfound speed, he wove through the group of three soldiers. His strikes were precise and lethal. Each blow shattered the dark enchantments holding the Hollowed together, turning them into piles of empty armor and fading smoke.
But as the last soldier fell, a deep, rhythmic thudding sound came from the forest—the sound of heavy war-drums. More were coming, and they were bringing something much larger than a scouting party.
"We can't stay here," Kael said, grabbing Elara’s arm and pulling her toward the hidden mountain pass. "The ruins are no longer safe. We head for the Whispering Woods."
"But no one survives the woods," Elara cried out.
"Better the woods than the Shadow army," Kael replied grimly. "Keep that light hidden. We move now."
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