A red mist lingered over the cliffs as the group approached the gate of Bloodfall. It wasn't made of stone, but of blackened bone, forged into the shape of twisted faces—screaming, frozen in agony.
Lyra tightened her grip on her staff. "This place… it's built on suffering."
Kael didn't blink. "Then it's the right place."
The gate creaked open on its own.
No guards.
No sentries.
Only silence.
The kind that promised death.
Inside the Hollow Court
The interior of the fortress was darker than night. Torches burned with eerie blue flames. Hallways shifted when you weren't looking. The walls whispered names—Kael's name.
He ignored them.
Focused only on the next step.
But Thorn wasn't so disciplined. "These voices… they're mocking me," he growled, gripping his axe.
"They're testing us," Lyra whispered. "The fortress is alive."
They reached a grand hall draped in red silk, where a dinner table had been set—decayed food, blood-filled goblets, and in the seat at the far end, a woman.
Velda
She wore no crown.
Only a crimson dress and a calm, terrifying smile.
Her eyes glowed faintly red. Not from rage, but calculation.
"Welcome, Kael," she said, sipping from her goblet. "You've killed my family. Burned my home. But still… I admire your persistence."
Kael didn't hesitate.
He drew his blade and pointed it at her chest. "You're the last."
Velda laughed softly. "Am I?"
She gestured toward the shadows behind her.
Figures emerged—hooded, cloaked, dozens of them. Their eyes were hollow, soulless. Not soldiers.
Cultists.
The Blood Pact
Lyra's eyes widened. "These aren't living."
"They were," Velda replied. "Until they gave themselves to me. Now they're mine."
Thorn stepped forward. "Enough talk. Let's kill her."
"No," Kael said. "We need answers."
He looked at Velda. "Why keep the war going? Rath is dead. The empire is dust. You lost."
Velda stood, calmly walking around the table.
"Because I wasn't born to rule. I was born to end the age of kings. Even Rath didn't understand. He wanted thrones. I want ashes."
Kael's blade glowed faintly with runes.
"Then let's give you a taste of your own medicine."
A Fight Begins
With a scream, the cultists charged.
Lyra raised a barrier of light. Merek began chanting incantations. Thorn leapt into the fray with a roar.
Kael locked eyes with Velda.
She didn't flinch.
She raised a hand—and the shadows bent to her will, forming a blade as dark as night.
Then they clashed.
Sword to sword.
Light to dark.
The heir of wrath against the last name of vengeance.
To be continue...