"Who the hell are you?"My voice was a raspy growl. The woman in white didn't answer immediately. She simply stood there, a pillar of blinding radiance in the middle of my growing darkness. Her armor wasn't just metal. It was woven light, pulsing with a frequency that made my teeth ache."I am Seraphina of the Silver Order," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that seemed to press my shadow back into the floor. "And you, Zorian Nightshade, are playing with a fire that will consume this world.""Fire?" I laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "My beast just ate a Rank-B guard and swallowed a Dragon’s Breath. I think it’s the one doing the consuming."The shadow at my feet hissed. It didn't like her. The ten shadow clones I had created began to circle her, their faceless heads tilted in predatory curiosity. They felt her power. It was pure. It was dense. It was the ultimate delicacy."Your beast is a void entity," Seraphina said, her eyes narrowing as she raised her silver s

The Whispering Graveyard was not a place of peace. It was a valley of jagged, black marble headstones that seemed to grow out of the earth like rotted teeth. A thick, waist-high fog clung to the ground, moving as if it had a mind of its own."Don’t breathe too deeply," Silas warned, his bone scythe cutting a path through the mist. "The air here is made of forgotten memories. Inhale too much, and you’ll forget your own name before we reach the center."I followed close behind, my boots crunching on the bone-white gravel. At my feet, my shadow blob was restless. It wasn't just hungry anymore. It was excited. Its form kept rippling, small mouths opening and closing all over its surface, tasting the stagnant mana in the air."You said there’s a King buried here," I said, my voice sounding muffled in the heavy fog. "Why hasn't the Silver Order claimed his soul?"Silas chuckled. "Because King Valerius wasn't a saint. He was a necromancer who tried to turn the entire continent into his perso

“The seals are thinning, Zorian. Do you hear the screaming from the other side?”The voice wasn't like Silas’s gravelly tone or the beast’s primal hunger. It was a chorus of a thousand whispers, vibrating through the very marrow of my bones. I staggered, the golden earth mana I had just stolen from Terros suddenly turning heavy as lead. My vision blurred, flickering between the red-and-blue horizon and a world of endless, swirling darkness."Zorian? Get a grip!" Silas’s voice barked, sounding miles away.I shook my head, my hand flying to my temple. The white streak in my hair felt hot, almost searing. "Do you hear that? The screaming?"Silas paused, his eyes darting to the sky. "The only thing I hear is the sound of your funeral approaching. The twins are less than a minute away. If you’re going to have a mental breakdown, do it after we’re not frozen or barbecued."I gritted my teeth. The screaming didn't stop. It was a sound of absolute despair, coming from somewhere deep beneath t

The rumbling beneath my boots wasn't a standard earthquake. It felt like the valley was trying to vomit.I looked down, my newly awakened earth-sense screaming in alarm. The stone floor of the Whispering Graveyard was turning a bruised, violet color. The bodies of Ignis and Glacio were no longer solid. They were melting into the cracks of the rock, their pure elemental mana acting like fuel for whatever ancient thing was trapped beneath the seals."Zorian!" Silas barked, his bone scythe cutting a defensive circle in the air. "The earth isn't just waking up. It’s digesting them. We need to leave before the valley collapses into the deep grid.""I’m not going anywhere without the key," I said.I tightened my grip on Saint Malachi’s throat. The Leader of the Twelve looked pathetic, his white robes stained with crimson and gold. Yet, even with his shoulder shattered and his mana core fractured, a thin, arrogant smile played on his bloody lips."You think you can force me?" Malachi choked

The word didn't just vibrate in the air; it shattered the remaining stone in the valley.“The Creator... has returned.”The voice sounded like continents grinding against each other, deep, ancient, and heavy with a reverence that felt entirely wrong in this desolate place. The towering hand of petrified wood gripped the edge of the chasm, the violet lava dripping from its rocky knuckles searing the ground.I stumbled back, my boots sliding on the newly formed glass beneath my feet. The sheer presence of the creature sent a shockwave of raw, unranked pressure across the valley. It wasn't mana. It wasn't the Void. It was the weight of old existence—something that had lived before the world learned how to measure power in letters and ranks."Silas!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the rumbling. "What is that thing?"The old necromancer didn't answer. He was already on his knees, his bone scythe cast aside, his forehead pressed against the dirt. "The Primeval..." he muttered, his voic