Chapter 71 – The Abyss Stirs

The eclipse loomed overhead, swallowing every trace of light. In the silence after the battlefield’s collapse, a low hum reverberated from the rift—like the heartbeat of something colossal and ancient.

Kael stood at the edge, his cloak whipped by the unnatural winds. The shadows clung to him, restless, feeding on the abyss’s call. His body still bore the wounds of countless battles, but his spirit burned brighter than ever.

Aria clutched her staff, her eyes locked on the rift. “This… this is no wound in the earth. It’s a mouth. Something is trying to crawl through.”

From the chasm, whispers rose, each voice layered over the next—thousands, millions—speaking in a language that clawed at the soul. Soldiers nearby dropped their weapons, clutching their heads. Some fled; others simply collapsed, unable to endure it.

Kael did not move. He let the voices wash over him, like a storm he had already endured. “I’ve heard worse,” he muttered, though his grip on the blade trembled.

The ground cracked as a colossal hand, forged of obsidian flesh and molten veins, clawed its way out of the rift. The sight alone was enough to drain the hope from every onlooker. The abyss was no longer just stirring—it was breaking through.

“Kael!” Aria cried. “If that thing emerges fully, there will be nothing left to fight for!”

Kael lifted his sword, shadows spiraling up its length. His voice cut through the terror:
“Then I’ll strike before it breathes.”

He leapt forward, diving into the storm of darkness erupting from the rift. The voices screamed louder, promising power, ruin, eternity. But Kael answered only with steel. His blade descended, and the abyss itself recoiled as if struck.

The clash shook the heavens. For a moment, the hand froze, retreating slightly into the void. But the whispers only grew more venomous, more desperate.

Aria’s eyes widened as she saw what the abyss truly wanted—not to destroy Kael, but to claim him.

And for the first time, Kael felt it too.