THE MARTIAL HEALER

Chapter Five – Trial by Void

Rashford turned to the old man. “You said they were hunting the Soulforged.”

“They never stopped,” the old man whispered. “And now… they’re coming for you.”

From deep below, a guttural roar rose, Not a man, Not a beast. Something… ancient, The old man paled. “No,” he said.

“They’ve brought a Voidcaller.”

Rashford’s pulse spiked. “What the hell is a Voidcaller?”

The cavern roof cracked, Something began to rise from the gorge below dripping with shadows, eyes like dying stars, its form barely holding together. “Something,” the girl said coldly, readying her bow, “that no one’s survived since the last war.”

Rashford stepped forward, sword in hand, forge blazing to life. “Then I guess I’ll be the first. The creature rose from the gorge like a nightmare torn from the pages of forbidden scripture.

Twisted. Faceless. Dripping with black flame. The Voidcaller didn’t roar it shivered the air. Its presence alone made Rashford's skin crawl, like his body wanted to reject reality itself.

The girl still unnamed stood beside him, bow drawn, eyes narrow. Her stance never wavered, The old man fell to one knee, hand clutching his chest. “You have to hold it here. It cannot be allowed to leave the cradle.”

The beast’s tendrils scraped the walls, turning stone to ash. Rashford's forge blazed, He stepped forward. “I’ll stop it.”

The girl glanced at him. “You’re Soulforged, not invincible.”

“Good thing I don’t plan to fight fair.”

The first clash happened midair, Rashford launched off the forge dais, blade coated in Soulfire. He struck a sweeping arc-but the blade passed through the creature’s body like smoke.

Then pain. Blistering, soul-deep. A tendril wrapped around his ankle, and before he could react, it slammed him into the ground. Crack.

His ribs shattered., The forge pulsed, golden energy flooding his core. He coughed blood, forced himself upright. The girl shouted, “You can’t strike it directly! Its body’s a shell, it anchors through shadow!”

She fired arrows tipped in silver light, aimed not at the beast’s body but at its reflection in the cavern pool, Each strike made it shriek. Rashford understood. “It’s bound by mirror essence,” he gasped. “We have to fight the echo, not the flesh.”

The old man was already setting up a runic trap, fingers bleeding as he carved symbols into stone “I can bind it for ten seconds!”

“That’s all I need,” Rashford growled. He drew on the Healer’s Wrath, activating the first Soul Echo. His wounds sealed as raw power surged through his muscles.

Ten seconds. The runes ignited. The Voidcaller froze, its image flickering. Rashford sprinted across the bridge, sword raised high.

Nine. He struck the reflection, Eight. The beast howled, Seven. Tendrils whipped out, blind and feral, Six. He dodged one, tanked another. Blood splattered, Five. The girl launched a final arrow it landed in the creature’s eye.

Four. Rashford leapt again, aiming downward, Three. His sword plunged into the pool’s reflection, Two. The forge ignited, One. A pulse exploded from him white-hot, soul-born, Zero. The cavern collapsed.

Silence.

Dust settled. The Voidcaller was gone. Rashford lay on the stone, chest heaving, smoke curling from his wounds, The girl knelt beside him, offering a hand. “Name’s Aelira. Now that we’ve shared a death sentence, figured you should know.”

He grinned weakly. “Rashford. But I think you already knew that.”