The words struck Wong harder than any blade could.
Your sister says hello.
For a heartbeat, the battle noise faded into a dull roar in his ears.
Memories of a small hand clutching his own… a laugh that always came before the mischief… then the night she vanished.
All of it came flooding back, raw and unhealed.
---
The glaive-wielding commander stepped forward from the chaos, the cultists instinctively parting for him.
Up close, he was monstrous — not because of his size alone, but because of the way his pale fire refused to cast shadows, as if it devoured light itself.
His hood fell back, revealing a face marked with ritual scars — each cut forming a strange lattice across his skin, the pattern pulsing faintly with magic.
"I am Malrik Vey," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Keeper of Purity. Slayer of the Thirteenth Necromancer. And soon… yours."
---
Shiv's voice cut through. "Wong, don't engage him—!"
Too late. Malrik slammed the butt of his glaive against the ground, sending a shockwave across the courtyard.
The stone cracked beneath Wong's feet, and his Shadow Blood Hound snarled, circling to flank.
Through the Soul Link, Wong felt the hound's anticipation — like a taut bowstring ready to snap.
We can take him, the beast's hunger whispered in his mind.
---
Malrik moved first, blindingly fast for his size.
The glaive's blade arced toward Wong's neck — and met a wall of skeletal arms bursting from the ground.
Bone shattered under the pale fire, but it slowed the strike just enough for Wong to step back and retaliate.
Necrotic energy surged down his staff, black chains whipping out to bind Malrik's arm.
The commander grunted — and with a single, brutal twist, shattered the magic.
"You have control," Malrik said, almost amused. "Good. That will make breaking you all the sweeter."
---
The hound struck from behind, jaws locking on Malrik's shoulder.
For a moment, Wong thought it had landed a killing blow — but then Malrik's body ignited in white fire.
The hound yelped and vanished into smoke, the Soul Link screaming pain through Wong's nerves.
Rage flared in his chest.
He gathered every shred of mana he had, the edges of his vision going black.
If he really knows my sister… then I'll make him talk.
---
Malrik planted his glaive in the ground, smiling like a man who had all the time in the world.
"Come, Child of Bone. Let's see if the prophecy favors you… or me."
And then, the world around them seemed to fall away — cultists and defenders alike fading into a blur, as if the battlefield itself had acknowledged that this duel would decide the gate's fate.
---