A cold, piercing pain returned before consciousness did as if countless shards of ice were pricking deep into his mind. Raine groaned, his eyelids weighed down as if burdened with lead. He struggled to open them, and through the blurred vision, he saw the signature, twisted, dim sky of the Corrupted Forest and two faces leaning in close, both filled with concern.
"Kid? You're awake!" Karrion Anvil's rugged voice sounded, noticeably more relaxed now. The tense lines on his dusty, sweat-streaked face had softened just a bit.
The other face, hidden beneath a hood, belonged to Selya Nightsong. She said nothing, but Raine could feel the scrutinizing gaze in her deep eyes—and a hint of fatigue that was almost imperceptible. Her complexion seemed even paler than before, her lips pressed tightly together as if she were desperately holding something back.
"Uh…" Raine tried to sit up, but a surge of intense dizziness and a deep-rooted weakness overwhelmed him, and his body convulsed with pain as if it were falling apart. "That… that thing…" he rasped, as fragments of memory began to coalesce—the massive Corruption Amalgam, the devastating burst of energy, his reckless premonition and strike, and then the darkness that nearly consumed him.
"It's dead. Thoroughly dead," Karrion said, patting his shoulder with a controlled force that did not worsen Raine's pain. He gestured toward the terrifying amalgam, which had been reduced to a heap of charred, smoking rubble exuding an even stronger stench.
Raine stared at the wreckage, but instead of triumph, he felt only the hollow ache of survival and a shock at his state. He could distinctly feel that the already feeble stardust power within him flickered like a dying candle in the wind—chaotic, nearly extinguished. Each heartbeat brought with it a sharp, needle-like pain—a mark of backlash from his starlight magic that was far more severe than ever before. Forcing a glimpse into the future, especially one so clear and directly intervening in battle, came at an unimaginable cost.
"How long was I out?" Raine managed to ask between heavy breaths.
"Not long—about fifteen minutes," Selya finally replied, her voice as cool as ever but noticeably lower. "We've scouted the surroundings; it seems safe for now. But we can't linger. Any future burst of energy might attract something else."
Raine nodded and struggled to stand, leaning heavily on Karrion, whose strong arms offered unwavering support. Yet, Raine's legs felt weak, each step as if he were treading on soft cotton.
"Your power… is overly spent," Selya observed flatly, her tone leaving no room for debate. "For now, don't use your premonition again—or else…" She didn't finish, but Raine understood: another backlash like this might destroy him.
"I understand," he replied bitterly. He glanced at Selya, who seemed to avert her gaze. Doubt stirred within him: that fleeting glimpse of his premonition hadn't just revealed the weak point of the amalgam—it had also hinted that Selya might be preparing to cast some extremely potent, possibly self-destructive defensive spell... Was it a hallucination, or had she hidden something again?
"Let's move on," Karrion interjected pragmatically. Dwarves were always the most practical. "We need to find a place where you can rest properly and see if there's any way out of this cursed land."
The three resumed their journey, but the atmosphere weighed even heavier. Raine's weakness was evident, and he nearly leaned half his weight on Karrion with every step, pain lancing through him. Selya walked on the other side, silent, her hood drawn ever lower as if to completely isolate herself.
The core of the Corrupted Forest seemed vaster and even more deathly silent than its outskirts. Twisted trees stood like ghostly sentinels, their gnarled forms draped in thick, slippery black moss; the air reeked of oppressive decay and malice. They advanced cautiously, ever alert for any sign of danger.
After what felt like an eternity, the landscape ahead revealed itself—a clearing dominated by ruins, utterly transformed by time and corruption. What had once been a small outpost or perhaps an ancient altar now lay in ruin. Massive black stones, eroded and misshapen, formed the crumbling walls and a collapsed stone dais, all blanketed in thick moss and entwined with dark, purple vines that pulsed like blood vessels. These vines emerged greedily from every crack, secreting sticky black ichor that dripped with a faint "sizzle."
Despite its decay, the stones bore faint remnants of intricate patterns—traces of celestial paths, swirling nebulas, and geometric symbols unique to the Starborn. Although most were eroded or distorted by corruption, the distinct style hinted at the ruin's bygone identity.
Karrion broke away from Raine and hurried forward, crouching to closely inspect a relatively intact stone base. He brushed away layers of moss and grime, revealing deeply incised lines.
"Starborn runes," he murmured, his voice heavy with gravity. "These are very ancient—even older than anything I've read about… This one suggests 'Vigil' or perhaps 'Sentinel'… And this one… 'Convergence of Starlight'? No, more like… 'Well of Stars'?" He struggled to make sense of the eroded glyphs, many of which were fragmented or twisted by corrupting energy.
At the same time, Selya approached the ruin. She didn't inspect the runes; instead, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly, her pale fingers moving silently in the air as if trying to sense something unseen. A subtle tremor passed through her—not from cold, but from an overwhelming surge of emotion.
"There is still starlight here…" she whispered, her voice trembling with a strange cadence as if bearing an unbearable weight. "Faint—as if it were the last ember in the wind…but more powerful is…" Suddenly, her eyes flared with shock from deep within, "—bitterness… a grudging, soul-crushing despair… thick as ink."
Raine stood silently, his gaze drifting over the dark ruin. A peculiar stirring rose within him, as though these shattered stones and vines were inexplicably connected to him. Despite his weakened state, his Starborn blood reacted to the lingering aura—a complex sensation both familiar and repulsive.
Unbidden, he moved toward the crumbling central dais—a structure that seemed to be the heart of the ruin, covered in dense engravings, albeit hidden beneath writhing vines. He extended his hand, intent on brushing aside the twisted tendrils to reveal the underlying symbols.
"Raine, be careful!" Selya suddenly warned.
But it was too late.
The moment his fingers touched the cold, rough surface of the dais—when they encountered those remnants of stellar markings—
Buzz!
It was as if an invisible bolt of lightning struck his soul.
In an instant, the vision shattered into chaos. The Corrupted Forest melted away; the figures of Karrion and Selya disappeared. In their stead, a torrent of fragmented, disordered images crashed over him!
This time, it wasn't a vision of his sister Elara.
He saw—in the very spot he stood—a once complete, radiant outpost altar, aglow with soft starlight. Starborn warriors clad in silver armor patrolled solemnly, their eyes sharp and resolute. At the center of the altar, a great mage in a starlit robe was channeling celestial light from above into an energy node beneath, sustaining an ancient defensive barrier.
The scene abruptly shifted!
The sky darkened to an ominous, murky green; the earth began to crack as black, corrupt energy erupted like a tide from below! Unspeakable, twisted creatures roared from the shadows, their bodies formed of pure malice and decaying flesh!
Starborn warriors rallied, their starlight magic piercing the darkness like blades, their spears brandished and runes flaring as the fierce battle erupted—a collision of starlight and shadow, accompanied by deafening roars!
He saw a familiar figure—a Starborn commander, his face resolute and bearing an uncanny resemblance to Raine, wielding a sword ablaze with stellar flame to cut down the encroaching corruption. He moved with both swiftness and grace, his strength unmistakable. That was… his ancestor from the family portrait!
But the corruption was inexhaustible—like worms gnawing relentlessly at the bone—slowly eroding the warriors' defenses and wills. The starlight dimmed as the warriors fell, one by one, their screams of despair merging with the horrors of battle.
The vision shifted again.
The outpost altar lay in ruins, its starlight a distant memory. The great mage lay fallen, his body coated in black slime, eyes filled with both defiance and terror. The commander—his revered ancestor—bathed in blood, his armor in tatters, his stellar flame sword dimmed to a lifeless glow. Surrounded by monstrous corruption, his final light was usurped by a cold, frenzied green.
At that moment, he heard his ancestor emit an inhuman, agonized howl, his body contorting as if his very soul was being torn apart, his remaining starlight twisted and corrupted... until he became nothing more than a wraith bound by shadow and seething with hatred.
The shattered images pierced Raine's mind like shards of glass. He saw resistance. He saw sacrifice. He saw despair—and he saw decay.
"Ah—!"Raine jerked his hand away as though burned, staggering back several steps, his face ashen and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The intense headache threatened to rip his mind apart—more excruciating than any backlash before, for this blow was not merely magical, but one of mind and soul.
"Raine!" Karrion and Selya rushed to his side.
"What did you see?" Selya demanded urgently, her hand pressing against his shoulder as a wisp of cold shadow energy attempted to soothe his frayed mind.
"I… I saw…" Raine's voice trembled, his eyes wide with terror and disbelief, "I saw… my ancestors. They fought here… and in the end… were…" He could not bring himself to voice the final word.
Corrupted.
That realization crushed him, a massive weight he could not bear. All his life, he had seen his Starborn blood as a mark of honor—a connection to a glorious past. Yet now he saw another face of that bloodline: a curse, an eternal, tragic bond with the all-consuming darkness. His family, and his ancestors, were not infallible heroes. They too had faltered, had… succumbed to the darkness.
An unfamiliar terror and dread gripped him. If even his mighty ancestors could not resist corruption, what hope did he have? His feeble blood, his scant power—what could it possibly do? And Starfall City, that beacon he had clung to as hope, if it too were steeped in such a "legacy," what awaited him then?
As these turbulent thoughts swirled within Raine's mind, a more chilling, malevolent aura suddenly seeped from deep within the ruin.
Selya's face darkened, and she abruptly looked toward the deepest shadow behind the altar. "It's not good! They've been awakened!"
Before she could finish, several twisted, half-transparent figures slid out from the darkness like apparitions, floating silently in midair.
Raine's heart clenched.
They were… the corrupted Starborn phantoms he had seen in his visions—the damned wraiths of his kin!
There were about three or four of them, each differing in form yet all retaining faint Starborn features—tall, slender figures with sharply contoured ears, and fragments of what once were the heroic garments of Starborn warriors or mages. Their bodies were cloaked in dense, almost tangible dark energy, their faces expressionless, with hollow eye sockets burning with twin flashes of ghastly green fire. They radiated not the warmth of starlight but an icy chill and pure malice for the living.
What sent an even sharper shiver down Raine's spine was the knowledge that these wraiths… or rather, the focus of that ghastly green fire in their empty eyes, was fixed upon him! They had recognized him—they recognized the untainted Starborn blood flowing within him!
"The living…""Starlight…""Fresh… bloodline…"
A hoarse, fragmented whisper, as if emerging from the depths of a netherworld, echoed in the air—a chorus laden with greed and yearning.
In the next heartbeat, without warning, those Starborn wraiths let out a piercing, shrill shriek, transforming into vague black shadows that lunged at Raine with bone-chilling speed.
"Protect yourself!" Karrion roared, throwing himself in front of Raine. The earthy-yellow runes on his battleaxe flared fiercely as he braced for impact.
Selya immediately sprang into action, her hands swiftly weaving intricate gestures. A series of shadow tendrils erupted from the ground, determined to ensnare and slow the advancing wraiths.
Chaos erupted on the battlefield!
The Starborn wraiths, though stripped of reason and twisted by corruption, retained vestiges of their martial prowess. They moved with uncanny speed and unpredictability, at times evading like specters, and at other moments gathering force for lethal slashes or energy blasts. They wielded blades forged from dark energy—sharpened echoes of Starborn weaponry—each strike laden with corrosive venom and psychic shock.
Karrion bore the brunt, his battleaxe clashing with the shadowy claws, the metallic ring of each impact resounding through the silence. The power of the runes on his gear held back the corrosive onslaught, but the sheer number and unpredictable nature of the wraiths left him scrambling. He had to remain ever vigilant, guarding against energy strikes that bypassed physical defenses.
Selya's shadow magic proved a natural counter to the wraiths. Her chains of darkness bound them effectively, and her bursts of dark energy dulled their strength. Yet, these phantoms craved starlight—they seemed to draw power from the thin remnants of radiance around them, and even from the faint starlight emanating from Raine. This made them tenacious, almost impossible to exterminate entirely.
Raine gripped his sword tight, yearning to join the fray, but his strength was nearly spent. Just standing made him dizzy. Helplessly, he watched as Karrion and Selya fought fiercely against what were once their kin—perhaps even their ancestors—leaving him with a bitter mix of impotence, anger, and indescribable sorrow.
"Why…" he muttered as he watched one wraith, dodging Karrion's axe, execute a graceful maneuver reminiscent of Starborn elegance—a flicker of combat memory deeply ingrained in his blood still shone through, despite the corruption.
Then, Raine noticed something. One of the wraiths, after a frenzied charge was repelled by Selya's dark barrier, had a moment where the ghastly green flame in its empty eyes flickered—and a barely perceptible, pained whisper emanated:
"…Trap… Void… Devour…"
The sound was fleeting, like a hallucination, but Raine was certain he had heard it!
He stared at the other wraiths. Their attacks remained frenzied, filled with hatred, but Raine forced his mind beyond their violent exteriors to sense something deeper. Concentrating with every remaining ounce of his will, he tried to decipher the hidden message beneath their maddened howls… a warning, perhaps!
"Selya! Karrion! Wait!" Raine suddenly shouted, his voice low yet piercing, "Don't… don't destroy them completely! They're trying to tell us something!"
Karrion and Selya both paused. Karrion nearly stumbled from a wraith's claw strike as he glanced at Raine in disbelief. "Kid, what nonsense are you spouting? These things only want to tear us apart!"
Selya frowned but seemed to grasp his meaning more than Karrion did. Her shadow magic slowed momentarily, shifting from pure destruction to binding and suppression.
"Their resentment is deep. These wraiths, bound hereby corruption over countless years, can sometimes… leave behind fragments of information. But it's dangerous, Raine! The message might be warped by corrupt forces—or it might be a deeper lure!"
Raine understood Selya's concern, yet he could not disregard the whispered words he had just heard—the fleeting sorrow and despair in those empty eyes. "I know the risks," he said through gritted teeth, "but we must try! It might all be connected to the truth behind Starfall City!"
Forcing himself to steady his wan body, Raine stepped forward and fixed his gaze on the struggling wraiths. In a voice barely above a whisper, he appealed not as an enemy, but as kin:
"Listen to me! I know your pain! I know your sacrifice! Tell me—tell me what happened in Starfall City! Tell me about Markus… tell me the truth of the Void!"
His words seemed to pierce the chaos.
The wraiths' frantic movements halted abruptly, and the green flames in their hollow eyes began pulsing more violently. They emitted agonized, disjointed howls—broken phrases and images surged over Raine's senses in a tidal onslaught:
"...Star Core… polluted…""...Lies… he deceived us…""...Void's Throat… has opened…""...Starfall… is… a nest…""...Do not… enter… the trap…"
The fragments were chaotic—filled with agony and warnings. Raine strained to comprehend, but the shattered echoes pricked his mind like needles, inducing such excruciating pain that he nearly fainted again.
Eventually, as Selya reinforced her binding spells, the wraiths' power seemed to wane. Their figures grew more translucent, the ghastly green flames dimming until they dissolved into tendrils of black smoke, leaving behind an inescapable aura of sorrow and resentment.
The battle subsided. Silence reclaimed the ruins, broken only by Karrion's labored breathing and Raine's unsteady, trembling form.
Raine stood there, his face ashen, body quivering. The fragments of the message, though disordered, carried a bone-chilling warning: Starfall City is a trap? A nest? Markus deceived everyone?
This contradicted the vision he had of his sister in captivity!
A cold dread surged from his feet to the top of his head. If these wraiths spoke the truth, then the hope he had clung to—his reason for enduring such peril—had been a lie from the start: an intricately woven ruse meant to lead him to his doom.
"Raine?" Karrion approached, concern in his eyes. "Are you alright? What did those damned creatures say?"
Raine managed to lift his gaze, eyes full of confusion and terror and looked to Selya. "They said… Starfall City is a trap… a nest…"
Selya's expression under her hood turned grim. After a pause, her voice dropped to a low murmur: "As I said, the wraiths' resentment can point us to the truth—but it may also be a ploy left by Markus or the void's power, intended to shake our resolve, freeze us in fear, or… lead us to another deathtrap."
She paused further, her tone now laden with sorrow: "These bound Starborn wraiths carry genuine agony, and their warnings may hold a sliver of truth. But we must remember that corruption is inherently deceitful. We cannot take their words at face value, nor can we dismiss them entirely."
Selya's words were like a bucket of cold water, quelling the impulsive urge in Raine to flee—but plunging him deeper into confusion.
What, then, is the truth? Which is the real trap? The vision of his sister, or these anguished whispers from the dead?
He did not know.
All he knew was that the path ahead—regardless of where it led—was laden with even deadlier shadows and uncertainty. And he, burdened by his family's tragic past and the murmurs of the dead, had no choice but to press on through this cursed land.
Karrion looked at Raine's distraught expression, then at the grim surroundings, and sighed, patting Raine's back. "Alright, kid, stop overthinking. Whether it's truth or trap, we still have to walk the path. If the heavens were to fall, I'd hold them up with these old bones—at least for a while."
The rare earnestness in the dwarf's words calmed Raine's tumultuous heart somewhat. He took a deep breath and nodded.
Yes—regardless of what lay ahead, he could not stop. For his missing sister (whether the vision was real or not, finding the truth remained his goal), for Selya's unsung sacrifice, for Karrion's oath, and for… discovering what this cursed Starborn blood truly meant.
He cast one last look at the empty altar, as though he could still hear the anguished whispers of the departed echoing. Then, he turned his gaze toward the deeper darkness of the Corruption Forest.
"Let's go," he said, his voice weak yet resolute, unyielding.