Chapter 8: Temple of the Fallen Oaths pt.6
Together, the three knights pressed forward, the bond between them stronger than the darkness that surrounded them. With every swing of Kyrntar's glowing blade, every arrow Edric loosed, and every protective spell Marra cast, they chipped away at the shadow, their teamwork driving them forward, their friendship a light in the overwhelming dark.
Edric fired his arrow, the string of his bow snapping with a sharp *twang*. The arrow cut through the air like a silver streak, finding its mark in the heart of the shadow. A low, guttural hiss echoed through the chamber as the creature recoiled, the shaft piercing its form cleanly. The shadow wavered, its shape flickering, clearly weakened by the hit.
"Gotcha," Edric muttered under his breath with a cocky grin, notching another arrow. "This thing's not so tough."
Marra, standing back, her hands glowing faintly with healing magic, wasn't as convinced. Her eyes darted around the room, watching for signs of danger, her heart pounding in her chest. Something felt wrong—terribly wrong—but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. The air around them seemed to thrum with dark energy, growing colder by the second.
"I don't like this, Kyrntar," Marra said, her voice trembling. "Something's coming. I can feel it, but I don't know where it's coming from."
Kyrntar, kept his greatsword raised, his focus unwavering. "Stay alert, Marra. Don't let your guard down."
Before anyone could react, the shadow retaliated. Dark tendrils of energy lashed out from its form, snaking through the air like living whips, crackling with malevolent power. The tendrils shot toward all three of them, fast and deadly.
Kyrntar braced himself, muscles tensing as he raised his sword to meet the oncoming onslaught. The tendrils of shadow whipped toward him, their speed unnaturally fast, but his instincts were sharp. The heavy weight of his blade was familiar, a part of him, and with a grunt, he deflected the first tendril with a sharp *clang*, the sound ringing through the chamber. But the creature was relentless. Another tendril slipped past his guard, striking him with brutal force.
Pain exploded through his side, dark energy surging through his veins like poison. He staggered, his vision momentarily blurring, but Kyrntar's resolve held firm. Gritting his teeth, he forced the agony aside, planting his feet and refusing to fall.
Edric, nimble as ever, was already moving. As another tendril lashed toward him, he ducked and rolled to the side, his body moving with practiced agility. He landed in a crouch, heart racing, eyes wide with adrenaline. "That was too close," Edric muttered, his voice tight with barely concealed fear. "Come on, shadow! You'll need to do better than that!"
The tendrils hissed in response, slashing through the air toward them once more.
Marra's heart raced as she saw Kyrntar reel from the blow. Marra's hands shook violently as she tried to summon her magic, her voice cracking under the weight of fear. She closed her eyes for a moment, fighting to steady her breath, knowing failure here would doom them all. With a cry, she rushed forward, her hands already glowing with the warmth of healing magic. "Kyrntar, stay still!" she shouted, her voice tight with urgency. She pressed her glowing hands to his wound, and a radiant light spread through his body, knitting the torn flesh back together. Kyrntar's breathing steadied as the pain eased, the golden light flowing over him like a balm, restoring his strength.
He gave her a quick nod of thanks, his chest still heaving from the exertion. "I owe you," he muttered, but his gaze was already locked back on the shadow. The creature loomed before him, its form twisting and shifting, ever-changing in the flickering light.
This time, Kyrntar approached with caution. He lowered his sword slightly, eyes narrowing in concentration, trying to discern something—anything—about the creature. His mind raced, searching for patterns in its movements, for some way to understand the dark, malevolent force they faced. He could feel the weight of the creature's presence pressing down on him, thick and suffocating, but he couldn't afford to falter.
They needed to find a way through this. Or they wouldn't survive the night.
The shadow didn't answer. Instead, its form grew more erratic, dark energy swirling violently around it. The ground beneath their feet trembled, and the air grew colder still. Kyrntar's attempt to reason with it was met only with hostility as the creature began drawing power from the glowing symbols carved into the walls. The shadow grew larger, its eyes burning brighter, more dangerous by the second.
"We're running out of time," Marra said, glancing nervously at the symbols. "It's drawing power from the temple itself. If we don't stop it, we won't stand a chance."
Kyrntar gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "We have to stop it now." His voice rose over the chaotic hum of the shadow's growing strength. "Edric, focus on those symbols—either figure them out or destroy them! Marra, bless my sword; we need all the power we can get!"
Edric narrowed his eyes, glancing at the glowing runes. "No pressure, right?" he quipped, before sprinting toward the nearest symbol. His sharp gaze scanned the markings, trying to decipher their purpose. It didn't take him long to realize what was happening—the symbols were channeling energy from the temple's foundation, feeding it directly into the shadow.
"If I take out just one of these symbols, it should weaken the shadow!" Edric called back, drawing his sword. Without hesitation, he swung at the nearest symbol, the blade connecting with a sharp *clang*. The symbol flickered but didn't fully deactivate. He cursed under his breath, readying another strike. "Almost got it!"
Meanwhile, Marra clutched her holy symbol close to her chest, muttering a fervent prayer under her breath. Her hands glowed with radiant energy as she stepped toward Kyrntar, laying her hands on his sword. The light transferred to his blade, giving it a faint, shimmering glow.
"It's not as strong as I'd hoped," Marra admitted, her voice laced with anxiety. "But it'll have to do."
Kyrntar looked down at the glowing blade and nodded grimly. "It's enough," he said, determination in his eyes. With his sword now partially blessed, he turned toward the shadow, charging forward with all his might.
With a roar, Kyrntar swung his sword at the creature, the radiant energy cutting through the darkness like a beam of light. The blade cleaved into the shadow's form, and this time, the effect was immediate. The shadow let out a piercing scream, its body writhing in agony as the radiant energy seared through it. Its form flickered violently, weakening significantly under the onslaught.
"Now we're getting somewhere," Kyrntar growled, his muscles burning as he pressed the attack. "Keep working on those symbols, Edric!"
Edric, panting from his efforts, swung his sword again, this time shattering the symbol entirely. The light from the walls dimmed, and the shadow's form seemed to shrink, its power fading. "Got it!" Edric called, grinning despite the danger. "One down!"
Marra stepped back, her hands trembling from the effort of casting her blessing, but her gaze remained focused on Kyrntar. "We need to end this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The shadow, though visibly weakened, surged with newfound fury as it pulled energy from the remaining glowing symbols etched into the walls. The ground beneath the three knights trembled violently, sending cracks spidering across the stone floor. The chamber shook as pieces of the ceiling broke loose, crashing down around them with a deafening roar. Time was slipping through their fingers, and the dread in the air was suffocating, like the weight of the entire temple was ready to crush them.
Kyrntar's eyes darted to Edric, who was still hacking desperately at the symbols. Sweat dripped down his brow, and his heart pounded like a war drum. The room was coming apart, and the shadow grew stronger with every second.
"Edric!" Kyrntar's voice cut through the chaos. "We need to finish this, now!"
Edric glanced back, his face pale but determined. "I'm working on it! One more symbol, I swear!" He swung his sword with all the strength he had left, aiming at the final glowing rune.
Kyrntar could feel the pressure mounting, the urgency thrumming in his bones. The shadow had become a vortex of dark energy, feeding off the temple like a parasite. There was no time for hesitation. He gripped his greatsword tightly and summoned every ounce of his divine power, calling upon the might of the Dragon Warden. The blade in his hands began to glow, its light growing more intense with each passing moment.
"Marra!" Kyrntar barked, his voice a command above the rising din. "Annoit my sword—everything you've got!"
Marra's hands shook as she steadied herself, the weight of fear pressing down on her. She could feel the darkness clawing at her mind, the dread curling around her like icy tendrils. But she wouldn't let it break her. She couldn't. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, her hands glowing with a radiant light.
The shadow lashed out again, dark tendrils whipping toward Kyrntar as if sensing the danger. He dodged one, but another caught him across the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. He staggered, pain shooting through his body, but he held his ground, his resolve unshaken.
"Now, Marra!" he shouted, the glow around his sword blazing brighter.
Marra rushed to his side, her hands trembling but filled with determination. She touched the blade, and the radiant energy surged through her fingers. This time, the blessing took hold, stronger than before. The sword began to hum with divine power, glowing so brightly it became almost blinding. It was a beacon of hope in the oppressive darkness, the light cutting through the shadow like a knife through the night.
"That should do it," Marra breathed, her voice shaky but filled with resolve.
Kyrntar nodded, his grip tightening on the now-blessed blade. The shadow recoiled, sensing the divine power radiating from the weapon. It hissed, its form flickering violently, but it was far from defeated.
Edric, watching the shadow falter, turned back to the symbols with renewed urgency. "Alright, alright," he muttered to himself, raising his sword again. "No pressure, just the entire temple falling apart." With a desperate swing, he brought his blade down on the final symbol, striking it with all his might.
The symbol shattered with a brilliant flash, and the glowing carvings across the walls flickered and died. The ground stopped shaking, the energy that had been feeding the shadow abruptly cut off. The room fell into an eerie silence, the only sound the faint crackling of dying magic. The shadow's form weakened, its edges fraying as it struggled to maintain itself.
"It's losing power!" Edric yelled, his voice strained. "Kyrntar, now's your chance!"
Kyrntar didn't need to be told twice. With his sword blazing in his hands, he charged toward the shadow, the ground trembling beneath his feet. Every fiber of his being was focused on this moment—on delivering the final blow that would end the nightmare once and for all. He raised his sword high, the radiant energy surging through it like a wave of pure light.
"For the Dragon Warden!" Kyrntar roared, and with a mighty swing, he brought the blade crashing down into the heart of the shadow.
The impact was devastating. The radiant energy exploded outward, ripping through the shadow like a storm of light. The creature screamed, a sound that echoed off the stone walls, its form tearing apart under the divine onslaught. The darkness writhed and twisted, but it couldn't hold itself together. Piece by piece, the shadow dissolved, its dark energy dissipating into the air like smoke caught in a windstorm.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
The shadow was gone.
The ground, though cracked and damaged, no longer trembled. The oppressive weight that had filled the chamber lifted, replaced by an eerie silence. Kyrntar stood in the center of the room, his sword lowered, the glow fading from the blade. His chest heaved with exhaustion, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning the room to make sure the danger was truly gone.
Edric, panting and slick with sweat, wiped his brow and leaned heavily on his sword. "Well, that was a bit close for comfort," he muttered with a shaky grin. "I don't suppose we could try something a bit less... world-ending next time?"
Marra let out a nervous laugh, still catching her breath. "I think we've had enough of ancient cursed temples for one day." Her voice wavered, but there was relief in her eyes. "It's over... we actually did it."
Kyrntar sheathed his sword with a slow, deliberate motion, his face grim. "We may have stopped this, but there's more going on here than we realize," he said, his tone serious. "This wasn't just some random shadow. Something worse is stirring beneath the surface."
He turned toward the entrance of the temple, his expression unreadable as the weight of their victory—and what it might cost—settled over him.
"We need to report back immediately. Whatever that was, it won't be the last."
And as the three knights stood together, the echoes of the battle still fresh in their minds, they knew that this victory was only the beginning of a much larger fight.
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