The chamber stank of blood and smoke. Dust drifted down from the cracked ceiling in a slow, choking rain, settling on stone shattered by battle. The Bound Horror lay collapsed at the center, wrapped in burning crimson chains that hissed with each twitch of its vast, shapeless body. Every time it strained, Kael’s bindings groaned and tightened, glowing brighter, sinking deeper into nightmare flesh.Kael stood over it, chest heaving, blood running down his chin. His limbs shook with exhaustion, and every breath felt like fire in his lungs. Yet his crimson eyes blazed, and the shard embedded in his chest throbbed with a violent rhythm.The System whispered in his mind.[Bound Entity: The Horror.][State: Dormant.][Connection Established.][Warning: Maintaining control drains host vitality.][Symptoms may include: blood loss, organ strain, mental corruption.][Proceed at your own risk.]Kael spat blood onto the floor and smiled through the pain. “Risk? That word belongs to mortals.”The

The tunnel yawned behind them, black and wet with dripping water. The air inside had been thick, suffocating, and heavy with the memory of chains and blood. But now the survivors stood at the mouth of the wound, where broken stone gave way to open night.Kael stepped out first.His boots pressed into the dirt, and for a moment he just stood there, staring at the sky. The stars looked dim and far away, scattered over a canvas of endless black. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the cold air of freedom, though it still smelled faintly of ash. The shard inside him pulsed with every breath, whispering. The world waits. Walk it. Bind it.The survivors followed in fits and starts, stumbling as if they had forgotten how to walk beneath the heavens. Some stopped as soon as their feet hit the dirt, staring upward as though the sight of stars were a miracle. A few collapsed, clutching the ground, pressing their foreheads against the earth. One of them whispered, “We are alive. We are alive.”None of

The night was deep and unbroken, swallowing the ruins in silence. The district they had emerged into was a husk of stone, its streets cracked and its houses leaning like corpses that refused to fall. The smell of soot still clung to the air though years had passed since the fires. No wind stirred, no animals prowled, and the silence felt heavy, as if the ruins themselves were holding their breath.Kael walked at the front.His steps echoed faintly over broken cobblestone, his figure tall and dark against the pale glow of the moon. Behind him, the survivors followed—stumbling, whispering, clutching their arms and their rags as though they were afraid the night itself might devour them.Some were gaunt with hunger, their eyes sunken; others bore wounds that still bled sluggishly. Yet not one dared fall behind. Even in their weakness, even in their fear, they clung to his shadow, as though leaving it meant being swallowed by death.Kael led them into the heart of a ruined square. A fount

Dawn broke like a dull blade over the ruined square. The first pale light crept across broken stones, glinting off pools of dried blood and the shattered fountain where Kael’s chained had sworn themselves to him. The air was thick with silence, the kind of silence that clings after slaughter, where every shadow seemed to hold a memory of screams.Kael stood at the edge of the fountain, cloak stirring in the faint breeze. His gaze was fixed eastward, where the Broken Men had fallen beneath his hand. His eyes burned crimson still, faintly glowing in the gray light, and deep in his chest the shard pulsed, slow and steady, as though savoring the aftermath.Behind him, his followers collapsed into the square like revenants returning from battle. Their clothes were torn, their faces smeared with grime and blood, their limbs shaking from exhaustion. Yet beneath that weakness was something else. Something raw and unshakable. They had hunted, and in hunting, they had tasted power.The boy stum

Night settled over the western quarter like a funeral shroud. The streets grew empty, doors barred, windows shuttered tight. Even the wind carried no laughter, no songs, only the faint echo of bells tolling from the temple ahead. Each clang trembled as if the bronze itself feared the sound it was forced to make.Kael walked at the head of his chained. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one echoing in the silence. The boy marched just behind, his thin arms tight around the shaft of his spear, his lips moving in a whisper that repeated Kael’s name over and over. The soldier kept her blade bared, her jaw clenched, eyes sharp with purpose. The thief moved light-footed, scanning every shadow, though sweat shone on his brow. Lira strolled at the rear, her humming low and lilting, as though they were on their way to a feast rather than slaughter.The temple rose from the heart of the street like a wounded beast. Its once-white stone was blackened by soot, its roof patched with wood after