Chapter 26
The moment Keal stepped through the shimmering circle, the air changed.
It was not the cold of wind, nor the warmth of sunlight—it was the absence of both. A dead stillness. The kind of silence that made the heart beat louder, because there was nothing else to hear.
They emerged into a world without life.
The ground was cracked and pale like bleached bone. No trees, no grass, no monsters, no structures—nothing. The sky was a permanent, suffocating darkness, not the kind that followed nightfall, but a void that had never known day.
Far on the horizon, one thing broke the emptiness: a single structure. A tall, black building, like a shard of obsidian stabbed into the land. Its surface drank in what little light existed, making it seem like a hole in reality itself.
Nobody spoke as they began walking toward it. Even Nyx—usually ready with some smart remark—was quiet.
They could feel it.
Whatever was inside… it was waiting.
The Throne
The closer they got, the more the pressure grew. It pressed down on their shoulders, coiled in their chests, whispered in their ears to turn back. But Keal kept walking, his steps steady.
The great doors of the structure opened without a touch, swinging inward with a deep, groaning sound. Inside, there was no hallway, no grand chamber—only a vast, circular space, lit by a single, pale flame at its center.
And there, sitting atop a throne of black stone, was a figure.
It was shaped like a man, but no light touched it. Its form was pure shadow, a living silhouette, except for two piercing eyes—bright, burning purple, like twin stars caught in the night.
The figure did not move, did not breathe. It simply stared at them as they entered, the purple glow locking onto Keal.
Keal stepped forward, his voice low but steady.
"Do you know what's happening to this world?"
The shadow's voice came like a whisper from all directions, as if the walls themselves spoke.
"I do. The birth of a new god."
Keal's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
The figure leaned forward slightly, its eyes narrowing.
"It means you, Keal… or me. Only one can rule the Dead World."
The throne dissolved into mist, and the figure rose to its full height. It towered over Keal, its form constantly shifting like smoke caught in a storm.
"Let us see who is worthy."
The Battle Begins
The shadow moved first.
It vanished—completely gone from sight. A heartbeat later, a fist of pure darkness slammed into Keal's ribs, sending him skidding across the stone floor. The impact left a crack in the ground where he'd stood.
Keal coughed, tasting blood, and his cosmic eyes flared open. The world shifted into clarity—threads of motion, flows of energy—and there, in the periphery, he saw it. The shadow lunging again.
He twisted aside, grabbing its arm. But the arm shifted, twisting into a blade that grazed his cheek before pulling away. It fought like water given form—every strike morphing into something new.
Keal struck back, his fist glowing with cosmic energy. The blow landed squarely on the figure's chest, sending a shockwave through the hall. The shadow staggered but did not fall—its form rippling before reforming.
"Good," the voice whispered, almost approving. "But not enough."
The Struggle
They clashed again and again, each strike shaking the chamber. The figure's attacks were relentless—tendrils of shadow shooting from its body, spikes erupting from the floor, blades forming from its limbs.
Keal countered with raw strength and skill, weaving in bursts of cosmic energy. He dodged, blocked, and struck with precision, but every hit seemed to do less than the last. The shadow absorbed the darkness of the room, growing faster, heavier.
Keal's breath came hard now. His muscles ached. But his eyes burned brighter.
Then, something shifted.
The shadow lunged—faster than before—but this time, Keal didn't dodge. He stepped forward, into the attack, his own fist colliding with the shadow's chest.
And for a split second, their energies connected—light and darkness grinding against each other.
The Awakening
Something inside Keal snapped—but it wasn't pain. It was a floodgate breaking.
Cosmic energy surged through him, twisting, evolving. It wasn't just light anymore. It wasn't just strength. It was something deeper… older. Something that reached beyond reality, gripping the very laws of the Dead World.
A new skill awakened: Sovereign's Dominion.
An aura that bent space, silenced movement, and forced all within it to obey the will of its master.
The shadow froze—not because it wanted to, but because it couldn't move. Its form flickered, struggling against the crushing force.
Keal's voice was steady. "Your throne is mine."
He struck once—just once—but the blow tore through the figure entirely. The shadow shattered, dissolving into wisps that faded into the dark.
The Crownless King
Silence returned.
The pale flame in the center of the hall flared, turning a deep, regal gold. Keal felt it—power, authority—settle into him like a mantle placed on his shoulders.
He had won.
He was now the ruler of the Dead World.
Behind him, the others entered slowly, sensing the shift. None spoke. Nyx was the first to break the silence.
"…So, are we supposed to bow now?"
Keal gave her a flat look.
"Try it and I'll throw you out."
Astrili smirked. "Still the same Keal. Good. I was worried power would make you unbearable."
But even as they joked, they all felt it—the change. Keal wasn't just stronger. The Dead World itself seemed to recognize him.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the building… something else had noticed, too.