In the space of a heartbeat, the choking cloud of dust and debris parted like a curtain ripped aside by unseen hands. A clean circle of ground opened up, more than thirty feet across, and the lethal strike that had been bearing down on Kael vanished as if it had never been.
Kael staggered, knees nearly buckling. His chest heaved as he sucked in ragged breaths, eyes darting around the sudden pocket of calm. Elder Greymantle stood with both arms flung wide, veins standing out on his neck and forehead. The old man's white brows and beard whipped in an unseen wind as he held the ward-barrier in place.
So the crazy old hermit's been hiding real power all this time, Kael thought, mouth hanging open. Beyond the shimmering edge of the barrier, shadowy figures moved through the swirling dust—twisted silhouettes wreathed in sickly lights and unnatural glows. None of it could break through.
He didn't know if these bastards were Greymantle's old enemies or if they had come for him. Either way, trouble. Kael flicked his wrist and the Eight-Claw Flamescourge uncoiled from his sleeve with a metallic hiss. He fed a surge of Vitae into the dragon-sinew whip, its fire-scales flickering to life as he held it ready across his chest.
A cold, wheezing voice cut through the chaos, thin as graveyard mist but clear enough to crawl down the spine. "To think one man could stand against six of our realm's high elders. The Shadow Rat's name is no empty boast."
"Shadow Rat?" Kael muttered, grip tightening on the Flamescourge.
Elder Greymantle answered with a low, icy snort. "You know my name and still dare trespass. I'll make sure you regret ever setting foot here." His left sleeve snapped forward. The barrier surged outward like a living thing. A choked grunt sounded from the haze, and one of the shadows flew backward, vanishing into the dust.
Angry shouts erupted. Another figure darted in at once, sealing the gap before the circle could break.
The wheezing voice returned, amused and sickly. "Tsk, tsk. Still able to strike back under these conditions. Impressive. No wonder you had the balls to steal from Phoenixspur all those years ago. But I wonder… could it be that your strength comes from the restrictions in these woods?"
An ancient, rasping tone answered him. "Just so, young lord. By my judgment, the barrier around this forest is an ancient restriction called the Lostford. It confuses travelers and stifles the Aether of outsiders."
Kael tested his own power on the sly. The Aether in his channels felt thin and slippery, like trying to grab smoke. His stomach tightened.
The sickly voice chuckled. "That explains why our honored elders are struggling today. Very well. No Aether then. I've heard the White-Browed Shadow Rat is a master of pure Vitae. This lord will test you the old way."
Greymantle's brows drew together. He turned his head sharply. Kael followed the look.
A single figure stepped out of the roiling dust and walked straight into the barrier as if it were an open doorway. The man wore fine embroidered robes that hung loose on a gaunt, hunched frame. His face was hollow-cheeked and bloodless, skin so pale it looked like bleached bone. He moved with the slow, fragile steps of a man one stiff breeze from falling over.
He should have looked harmless. Instead, a deep, primal dread coiled in Kael's gut—the kind of fear that had no name and no reason.
The sickly lord glanced at him and smiled. "You. You are the descendant of the Shadow Fox?"
Kael lifted his chin, forcing bravado into his voice even as his pulse hammered. "What if I am?"
"Good. Very good." The lord's voice trembled with something like joy. "We've finally found you."
Before Kael could answer, the man threw his head back and laughed—wild, broken, hysterical laughter that left him gasping and wheezing. When the fit passed, his face twisted into pure venom. "I thought the Shadow Fox bloodline had been wiped out. It broke my heart for years. But the heavens saw fit to leave me one. What a delightful surprise."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you? Why are you after me?"
The gaunt man's breathing steadied. His eyes burned with hatred. "Me? I am the son of the Sevenfold Demon Lord."
Kael's blood ran cold. "You're Lord Caeron the Pale."
"Now you understand why I've come for you." Caeron took a heavy step forward.
Elder Greymantle barked a command and thrust out his right palm. The air thickened. Caeron's advance slowed as if his feet had been chained to iron weights. Each step became a brutal struggle.
Figures pressed in from every side, hammering the barrier until it warped and shuddered. Someone shouted, "Young lord, wait! Let us break the old bastard's Vitae first!"
Caeron ignored them. His bloodless gaze stayed locked on Kael. The fine robes tore at the seams as he forced himself onward. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
"Young lord, be careful!"
"Young lord, fall back! The Shadow Rat's Vitae is vicious!"
"You're still wounded—don't risk it!"
Caeron kept coming. He reached an arm's length from Kael and stopped, as though an invisible wall had finally halted him. Even then he did not retreat. Those poisoned eyes never left Kael's face.
Kael's heart slammed against his ribs, but something fiercer rose to meet it. He stared back, cold and unyielding, refusing to look away first. At this distance their locked gazes felt like needles stabbing into bone.
Lord Caeron's lips peeled back in a grin. "I will keep you alive," he whispered. "I will make living the most exquisite agony this world has ever known."
A chill crawled down Kael's spine. He wrenched his eyes away.
Beside him, Elder Greymantle's face trembled with effort, hair and beard streaming. Kael could see the old man was straining to his limit. "How can I help?" he asked urgently.
"Don't move," Greymantle growled. "Stay exactly where you are."
"But it's one against a whole pack of them!"
"This is my ground," the elder said with a thin smile. "Advantage is mine."
"They came for me. Why are you helping?"
Greymantle's eyes flicked toward the ruined remnants of his crooked little hut. "They wrecked my house."
A rush of unexpected warmth hit Kael. For a moment the white-haired elder felt strangely familiar, like someone he should have known a long time ago.
Then Greymantle's eyes narrowed.
Caeron had brought his left hand forward. The bony fist was clenched. Inch by agonizing inch, he extended it toward Kael's face.
Kael stared at that frail-looking fist, every nerve screaming danger. Greymantle's expression had turned grim as death.
The fist crawled forward, slow as a dying snail. An oppressive shadow crept across Kael's brow, making the skin there prickle and go numb.
Sweat rolled down Kael's temples. His fingers ached around the Flamescourge.
Shouts rose from the encircling foes. The barrier shrank under their combined pressure.
"Ha!" Caeron snarled. The fist shot forward like a striking viper.
In the same instant, Greymantle's sleeve lashed out and struck the Pale Lord square in the chest.
Caeron flew backward, spraying a bright arc of blood across the air.
The barrier collapsed.
A dozen shadowy figures roared in with the fury of a breaking wave, swallowing Greymantle and Kael in dust and violence.
Kael roared and lashed out with the Eight-Claw Flamescourge, whipping it in wide, flaming arcs. The world had become blinding chaos. He could barely see the enemies, let alone the old man who had been standing right beside him.
A pair of glowing crimson eyes appeared less than a foot from his face.
Kael recoiled, boots digging into the dirt as he tried to create distance. The red-eyed bastard followed like a shadow, right arm raised high. A black-red arc of brutal energy came thundering down.
Kael twisted the Flamescourge up to meet it. The clash rang like a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil. Sparks and fire exploded between them. The shock nearly tore the weapon from his grip and sent him stumbling back several paces. His chest burned with churning blood.
This bastard's as strong as those damned skeleton freaks.
The red-eyed attacker floated upward a short distance, grinning. In his hands he held a grotesque, mottled staff carved with leering demon faces. "Good! You took one strike from my Sevenfold Corpse-Cudgel. Let's have another!"
He swooped down again.
Kael met him head-on. This time the exchange was worse. The impact hurled him seven or eight steps before he crashed onto his backside. Copper flooded his mouth. He coughed up a thick gout of blood.
The red-eyed killer started forward to finish the job.
"Leave him," a new voice called from the dust. "The young lord wants this one alive."
An old man emerged—bald, green-pale skin, wearing a voluminous red robe covered in strange sigils. He carried an eight-sided banner and muttered under his breath.
Kael's vision swam. A terrible weakness crashed over him, as if he hadn't eaten or slept in a week. His limbs turned to lead. He tried to push himself up and failed, collapsing back onto the torn earth while the world spun.
White light burst through the choking dust.
Several pale spheres shot screaming into the air like miniature moons, spinning so fast they whined. Men immediately started dying.
One shrieked as the flesh on his hands burst open. Another dropped from the sky clutching at his chest. Voices exploded through the battlefield.
"Careful! Voidbreaker pearls!"
"Don't channel Vitae!"
"Ring the Devouring Bell! Hurry!"
A deafening hum rolled across the forest.
Golden light erupted overhead as a massive bell rose through the smoke, its surface covered in dense Ward-scripts that crawled and flickered like living things. One of the white spheres smashed into it.
The explosion shook the earth.
Kael's ears rang.
The sphere spun wildly after impact, untouched, but cracks instantly spread across the golden bell.
Then the other pearls came.
They streaked through the dust with horrifying precision, curving through the air as if they could smell their target. One after another they hammered into the bell.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
The final impact shattered it completely.
Golden fragments sprayed in every direction like burning rain.
"The bell's gone!"
"Even the Devouring Bell can't stop them!"
"Fall back!"
"Protect the young lord!"
Panic surged through the woods.
The red-eyed attacker and the bald elder both changed expression. Without another word they flashed backward into the smoke and vanished.
At once the terrible weakness crushing Kael vanished too.
Strength flooded painfully back into his limbs.
He sucked in a ragged breath and looked around wildly. Dust. Fire. Screaming shapes stumbling through ruined trees.
Then a figure burst from the haze beside him.
Kael reacted instantly, snapping the Eight-Claw Flamescourge upward—
—but he was too slow.
The stranger caught his wrist.
"Don't panic. It's me."
The voice hit him like lightning.
Kael stared.
A slim body. Silk wrapped tight against dangerous curves. A veil over the lower half of her face. Dark hair plastered against her brow.
Even hidden, he recognized her immediately.
"Verde?" he breathed.
Verdis Morcroft's eyes flashed with urgency. "Where are you hurt?"
"Nowhere serious." Kael wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Can you move?"
"Yes."
"Then move." She grabbed his arm hard. "Come with me. Now."
They crouched low and sprinted through the dust.
The battlefield behind them still thundered with explosions. White flashes pulsed through the smoke while men screamed in terror. Kael caught glimpses of trees collapsing and strange pale lights whipping between trunks like hunting spirits.
Then the two of them plunged into the forest.
Branches whipped Kael's face as Verdis dragged him deeper between the ancient trees.
"Verde," he gasped, "what the hell are you doing here?"
"Keep running. I'll explain later."
She never slowed.
Kael's chest still ached from Lord Caeron's earlier blow. Every breath burned. But he forced himself onward.
Then suddenly he stopped.
Verdis nearly stumbled. "What are you doing?"
"That old man helped me." Kael looked back toward the chaos. "I'm not leaving him behind."
"You idiot." Real anger flashed across her face. "Elder Greymantle is one of the deadliest creatures in this forest. Those eleven Voidbreaker pearls of his are monstrous. He doesn't need your help."
"There were a lot of enemies."
"This is his territory." She yanked him forward again. "The Lostford cripples outsiders. Their Aether circulation's suppressed the moment they enter the woods. And if they try to force Vitae through their Channels, those pearls rip straight through it."
Kael still looked uncertain.
Verdis glared at him. "If you stay, you'll only burden him."
Reluctantly, Kael let her pull him onward again.
They ran for what felt like forever.
The forest gradually grew quieter behind them. The sounds of battle faded into distant echoes.
Finally Verdis stopped beside a cluster of black stone outcroppings hidden beneath twisted roots.
"All right." She turned to him, breathing hard beneath the veil. "I can only take you this far."
Kael frowned. "What?"
"You keep going straight ahead. Don't stop. Don't look back. Run as far from this place as you can."
"And you?"
Her eyes flickered away.
"I have to go back."
Kael stared at her.
"If I'm gone too long, they'll become suspicious."
A bad feeling twisted inside him.
"You…" His voice lowered. "Verde… you're with them?"
For several seconds she said nothing.
Then she looked directly into his eyes.
"Yes."
The word hit harder than Lord Caeron's fist.
Kael's face went pale.
He opened his mouth once. Closed it again.
Verdis suddenly stamped her foot in frustration.
"Damn it all! Why did you have to be one of the Shadow Fox bloodline?"
Kael's throat tightened.
"Verde…"
She looked like she wanted to say something more.
Instead she stepped forward and gently touched his cheek through the grime and blood.
"Be careful." Her voice softened. "And if you truly have nowhere else to go… return to the Jade Peaks. Find your brother Simeon. He's more important than he lets on. He might still be able to help you."
Kael caught the strange sadness in her eyes.
Then suddenly her entire body jerked.
Around them, trees began to die.
Leaves yellowed in seconds.
Bark blackened and split apart.
An entire section of forest withered before Kael's eyes as though decades passed in a heartbeat.
"What the hell—"
The corruption spread rapidly outward.
More trees rotted.
Leaves fell like rain.
The air filled with the stink of decay.
Several birds burst upward from the canopy in panic. They flapped wildly for only a few moments before all their feathers suddenly dropped away. Their flesh liquefied midair.
Wet chunks splattered across the forest floor.
Kael froze in horror.
Then Verdis suddenly threw herself against his chest and whispered urgently:
"Grab me. Hurry."
Kael blinked stupidly.
"Take me hostage!" she hissed.
Understanding hit him instantly.
He wrapped an arm around her throat and locked her tight against him.
Verdis immediately cried out toward the dead forest.
"Elder Venrath! Save me! I failed!"
An ancient voice drifted through the woods.
"How careless of you."
The voice sounded distant and close at the same time, floating through every direction at once. Fury simmered beneath it.
"Go," Verdis whispered against Kael's chest. "Slowly."
Kael obeyed.
Keeping the Flamescourge against her neck, he backed away step by step.
"Boy." The old voice rang again. "Release her. I may yet spare your life."
Something crashed through nearby brush.
A wild boar burst from the undergrowth—
—and collapsed after only a few strides.
Its flesh slid off in rotten strips.
Bone dissolved.
Within seconds the entire creature melted into foul yellow sludge that soaked into the leaf-covered ground.
Kael's stomach lurched.
"Don't answer him," Verdis breathed. "Just keep moving."
The ancient voice turned colder.
"You are testing my patience. Release the girl now, or I will erase both body and soul."
Kael kept retreating silently.
Then another voice spoke behind him.
Soft.
Weak.
Cold enough to stop his heart.
"Well now."
Kael spun instantly, dragging Verdis with him.
Lord Caeron stood several yards away.
His robes were torn. Blood stained the corner of his mouth. Yet despite the injuries, the pale lord still smiled like a man enjoying an evening stroll.
His hands rested calmly behind his back.
"Interesting." Caeron's dead eyes slid toward Verdis. "You actually managed to capture my beautiful general."
"Move," Kael snarled.
But he felt Verdis trembling violently in his arms.
"What if I don't?"
"Then I kill her."
Lord Caeron started walking toward them.
Slowly.
Almost lazily.
"You know," he said softly, "I've always hated being threatened."
Kael tightened the Flamescourge against Verdis's throat.
"Don't come closer!"
From somewhere deep in the dying forest, Elder Venrath's voice echoed again.
"Young lord, be careful not to injure your consort. The boy cannot escape."
But Caeron ignored him completely.
Still smiling, he continued forward.
"Do you know who this woman is?"
"Stop right there!"
Caeron tilted his head slightly.
"She is one of my Seven Marshals. The Flying Lightning General herself." Pride and possession dripped from every word. "Daughter of High Priestess Serana Morcroft. And my most beloved concubine… Verdis Morcroft."
Kael's mouth slowly fell open.
He looked down at her.
Verdis bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She refused to meet his eyes.
Caeron sighed lightly.
"Unfortunately…" His gaze sharpened. "I truly despise threats. Even if the bargaining chip happens to be one of my favorite women."
Lightning exploded.
Without warning Caeron punched forward.
Straight at Verdis's chest.
Kael's eyes widened.
He hauled Verdis backward and leaped away barely in time as thunder ripped through the air where she'd been standing.
Caeron pursued instantly.
"Since she belongs to me," he said with a grin, "she should naturally be ready to die for me at any moment."
Verdis's face turned utterly white.
Tears burst from her eyes.
Even Elder Venrath sounded alarmed now.
"Young lord! Restrain yourself! If something happens to her, High Priestess Serana will not overlook it!"
Caeron acted as though he heard nothing.
He kept attacking.
Every strike lethal.
Every blow aimed straight through Verdis's body to reach Kael.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Kael's fury exploded.
He hated many things in this world.
Cruelty. Betrayal. Power used for amusement.
But more than anything else, he hated men who treated loyal women like disposable meat.
"You sick bastard!"
He shoved Verdis aside and snapped the Flamescourge forward.
Caeron looked faintly surprised.
Then he casually shifted one step and avoided the strike with effortless grace.
Kael attacked again.
And again.
The Eight-Claw Flamescourge screamed through the forest like a raging dragon. Fire erupted across the dead leaves. Trunks split apart under the impacts.
But Caeron avoided every single strike.
Hands still clasped behind his back.
"You call that whip-work?" he mocked lightly. "Passable, perhaps. Your Vitae, though… pitiful."
Kael attacked harder.
Caeron drifted sideways like smoke.
"So this is the heir of the Shadow Fox line?" He smiled thinly. "Disappointing."
Kael's strikes hit nothing but air.
Cold dread slowly crept into him.
This monster was playing with him.
His eyes flicked sideways toward Verdis.
She stood nearby silently crying, shoulders trembling.
Something twisted painfully inside Kael's chest.
Abruptly he stopped attacking.
Caeron raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Giving up already? Finally realized the distance between us?"
Kael lowered the Flamescourge slowly.
Inside his sleeve, his fingers moved.
Silently he opened the Wardian Satchel at his waist.
At the same time, he began muttering another Binding Curse beneath his breath.
Caeron merely watched with amusement.
"Go on," he said pleasantly. "Whatever treasures or tricks you have left, use them all."
Something suddenly burst from the satchel.
It flew straight toward Kael's face.
The instant it touched him, it locked into place.
Caeron froze.
"The Sevenfold Shroud—"
Shock shattered his calm mask completely.
Kael stood motionless beneath the grotesque mask.
Dark metal covered the upper half of his face down to the bridge of his nose. Seven twisted horns curved from the brow like demonic crowns. Strange patterns crawled across the surface while thin blue arcs of lightning slithered over the metal.
The moment the mask settled against his skin, rage flooded him.
Hot.
Violent.
Bottomless.
Caeron stared as if seeing a miracle.
"It really is the Sevenfold Shroud…" he whispered hoarsely.
His expression became almost feverish.
"Kill yourself!" Kael roared.
The Eight-Claw Flamescourge exploded outward.
This time it truly became a dragon.
Fire surged through the whip in torrents. Eight blazing extensions twisted and lashed through the forest like living serpents.
The power was completely different from before.
Caeron immediately flashed backward.
Yet instead of anger, ecstatic delight filled his face.
Kael pursued relentlessly.
The Flamescourge painted burning trails through the air. Each strike left lingering streams of fire hanging in space for several breaths before fading.
The forest ignited around them.
"A complete transformation…" Caeron murmured almost drunkenly. "The sacred mantle… it truly exists…"
Kael barely heard him.
The mask poisoned his thoughts.
Violence thundered through his skull.
Destroy him.
Burn him.
Tear him apart.
His attacks became faster and wilder.
Still Caeron avoided them.
Finally Kael snapped.
With a furious roar he leaped into the air.
Vitae erupted from his entire body.
"Heavenly Fire, Burning Wastes!"
A sea of flame descended from above.
Massive clouds of burning fire rolled across the forest canopy like the end of the world itself. The inferno swallowed entire sections of woodland, collapsing downward toward Lord Caeron from every direction.
For the first time, Caeron stopped retreating.
Instead he stood perfectly still beneath the descending hellfire.
"Good," he whispered.
Then louder:
"GOOD!"
His eyes blazed with manic delight.
"Come!"
Far away, Elder Greymantle's voice suddenly thundered through the woods.
"Boy! Watch out!"
But Kael was beyond caution now.
The Sevenfold Shroud devoured reason.
Caeron's figure blurred.
Then vanished.
Before Kael could react, the pale lord stepped directly through layers of descending fire as though the inferno meant nothing.
He appeared in front of Kael instantly.
A thin, withered fist drifted forward almost gently.
Then pressed against Kael's chest.