Chapter 97 – The Eraser of Legends

The cursed horizon still bled light as Kael and Aria pressed forward. Every step felt heavier, as though the world itself sought to hold them back.

Then—silence broke.

A shape emerged from the mist. Not a phantom, not an echo, but a figure cloaked in shifting symbols, each glowing with the same mark seared into the sky. His presence bent the marshland around him—reeds wilted, water boiled, air cracked.

“You’ve walked far for a man who shouldn’t exist,” the figure said, voice carrying like thunder muffled in ash. “And yet, your shadow lingers longer than prophecy intended.”

Kael’s grip on his blade tightened. “So you’re the one writing over me.”

The figure tilted his head. “Not writing. Correcting. The world bends to the sigils. Your return is the flaw I am here to erase.”

Aria raised her staff, sparks leaping like fireflies. “If you erase him, you erase hope itself.”

The Sigil Bearer’s eyes glowed, each iris a runic circle. “Hope? He is no beacon. He is a fracture. Look—”

He lifted a hand. The sky split, showing visions not of the future, but of possibilities: Kael crowned in chains of flame, Kael slaughtering armies without cause, Kael standing atop a throne built from the bones of both friend and foe.

Kael’s heart hammered. The visions weren’t lies. They were doors—doors he might one day open.

For the first time, Kael felt fear not of death, but of himself.

The Sigil Bearer’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You see it, don’t you? Every path you tread leads only to ruin. Let me end you now, before the world pays the price.”

The air trembled. The ground shook. The marshland itself began to sink into black mire, dragging them toward oblivion.

Kael raised his sword. His voice cut through the chaos, steady and sharp:

“Then you’ll have to erase me with your own hands.”

The clash began.