Siren's Reach - Fallen Lands Book 3

Chapter Forty-Two

Songs Beneath the Surface

Evelyn

We came around the final hill and stopped cold at the edge of one last canal deep enough to survive the collapse. The channel was somewhere around two hundred meters wide, but its depth was anyone's guess. The water ran black with ash. The sand on its far side was similarly darkened, but I could still see that this was certainly the former boss arena of K'thralis. The wide open beach looked eerily similar to that of Darkwater Down, right up to the crumbling remains of a wall further in.

Even from where we stood, we could see the great crab motifs on what could have been anything from a temple to a palace. It was built into the face of the mountain, and through the skeleton of its walls, I could see its cavernous interior was more than large enough for K'thralis and a small army to battle it out. What might have been towering skywalks on the beach and inside the mountain were now little more than shattered husks crumbling into the sand.

And looming over it all was that horrible tear in reality. Just standing in clear view of it felt wrong. I could feel it tugging at us and the entire world around it. Of course, that could have been my imagination. If mana flowed like water and that was a drain, then maybe it was the magic itself tugging on us as it flowed by. As I tried to wrap my mind around it, Alice's voice pulled me back to reality.

"We ain't swimmin' 'cross that. Ain't no way of tellin' what's under that sludge."

I gave a short nod. "Sibylla would suffocate anyway, and I'm not sure how Lilith would fare."

"I'm not interested in finding out, either," Lilith answered. "We might need to go back and find some boats."

"Or, I can try to just levitate us across. I have a feeling that whatever broke my magic before won't work here, and if it does, it probably won't activate with us only a few feet off the ground."

"Could work," Alice said, looking a little nervous. "But the nearer we get to that thing, the more it's tearin' my spell to shreds. Don't know how long I can keep it together."

I looked across the water and thought for a moment, but the only way to really understand was to try. I activated my [Channel Wind], calling up a gentle breeze around us. As quickly as the magic coalesced, I could feel what Alice meant. That tear was like a void, doing its best to rip the mana right out of my spell. My Arcana was far higher than hers, however, and I was having a much easier time holding the spell together. Still, I could tell it wouldn't be as easy once I activated an aura to carry our entire crew and enough wind to fly us across.

"I can do it, but we'll need to move quick."

"No need to wait!" Amélie said as cheerfully as she could muster, though it sounded a little forced. "Everyone ready?"

The nervous edge in her voice was a little out of character, but surrounded by this… hollow entropy, like the world itself was fraying thread by thread, who would blame her?

"Yeah, let's get out of here." I activated my [Levitation Aura] and hopped up into the air. "Try to get some height. Better if we're not just sitting on top of the water like a snack, just in case."

The others mimicked me, each one of them catching in my spell and pulling just a little more on it, but nothing that I couldn't handle. The moment they were floating around me, I picked up the wind, and the real tug of war began.

My levitation aura felt like a constant draw, not much different from usual, only that it was like an inflatable raft, and each new bit of weight was pushing on a leak a little harder while I was pressing back against it. Controlling the wind was another story. I was moving the air all around us, more and further away as I picked up the pace. My spell was spreading out against that breach in reality, making the edges feel brittle and flimsy.

From the moment we began to drift forward, it became a contest against a force of nature. Without my crown, my aspect of magic, and my nearly two hundred points of Arcana, I'd have been forced to turn back within meters. But that thought reminded me of who I was and the unreal power I had in this arena. A combination of intention and instinct guided me to use my crown to more effectively control the magic around me, source the magic from within, and claim dominion over the mana of my spell.

A nearly painful strain eased, allowing me to focus more on the way forward. Every inch closer to the tear was a step up in difficulty, making it very easy to resist the urge to move faster. When we were just past the halfway point, the rain suddenly stopped. Even the drops still in the air vanished, and Alice let out a weak, pained cry, falling limp in the aura.

I heard Amélie call out to her in alarm, but I had my own problems. That rain had been doing more than I'd realized, and the moment it was gone, everything felt so much less stable. The outer limits of my spells crumbled like ash in the wind. Our speed dropped by more than half, and so did the range of my [Levitation Aura]. Sibylla was just far enough away to tip sideways and fall out of my spell down to the water below.

Right as she made contact, she flashed, and her foxy form rolled across the surface of the water as if it were rubbery ground. The loss of her in my spell had the added benefits of helping it stabilize against the pull of the void. Even that small drop in the pressure was enough for a sigh of relief to escape my lips.

She saw the same thing, and her form shifted to nearly invisible shadow, barely distinct against the ripples on the surface. After taking in her surroundings, she chirped up, "I'm okay. Don't stop, I'll just follow like this. We need to get Alice out of here."

I nodded, unwilling to speak and risk losing my concentration. I pushed forward, my influence shrinking around us as we moved, but not enough to threaten losing anyone else. I could feel a desperate fear trying to claw its way into my mind the entire time. Every meter forward, it scratched at my consciousness. What if I failed? What if they fell in and we lost Alice completely? What if the others got stuck in that mess and drowned? But I knew I was okay. I knew I could make it, and it was easy to push those unrealistic worries down.

Still, I could see the others beginning to look a little nervous, too. And it wasn't until I heard a questioning yip of, "What the?" from Sibylla that I pulled my attention from the focus on my spells enough to understand. Sibylla was still moving, following right behind us, only her feet weren't moving. The patch of shadow and ash she was standing on was moving along the surface below her, slowly closing the distance between us.

When those horrible wide-set eyes opened and blinked up at me, we all understood. Sibylla jumped into the air right as the thing split down the middle, exposing rows of chains shackled into flesh, every link set with spiny teeth, the maw yawning into a pit of nothingness directly below her. It lunged up, its monstrous jaws closing around her, chains rattling like laughter as it snapped shut.

I had just enough time to panic before she burst from his shadow stretched across the water, flipping back into her foxgirl form, scythe in hand. She kicked off one of the frills around his neck as a stepping stone, launching higher before swinging down with all her might—but the thing was fast. It shifted just enough for the blade to glance off its hide. Sibylla dropped toward another shadow, but before she could slip through, a ripple rolled out from the monster below. She struck hard and nearly crumpled, the shadow beneath her as unyielding as glass instead of an open portal.

Her eyes went wide, and the world warped. Mana—vile, corrosive, and malignant crashed down on Sibylla in a crushing wave of curse magic. I thought it would devour her whole, but the spell broke against her defenses, splintering apart. What didn't shatter, she drank in, her and her scythe both feeding on the darkness.

Chagrinned by her momentary panic, Sibylla straightened, adjusting her ridiculous hat with a flourish before stomping once, testing the frozen shadow beneath her feet. A quick jerk of her head sent me the message, "Keep going!" before her grin widened. Raising her scythe like a wizard's staff, she began to chant.

We were so close to the shore, but I wasn't conflicted. I knew she could take care of herself, and right now. Alice could not. I pushed a little harder, doing my best to rush to the shore and not waste her distraction.

One of its oversized orbs turned in my direction, followed by a dozen smaller ones opening up randomly across its head, but that ended the moment Sibylla's first spell struck, and their battle was on. The world lurched behind us as reality warped under a storm of hexes, curses, and writhing shadows. The already blackened water thickened, slick and viscous, boiling with skeletal fish gnashing with needle teeth. Tentacles of living cursefire erupted, slamming down in search of prey—only to meet Sibylla's tendrils of shadow, freezing, fracturing, and reforming as they wrestled for control. The air reeked of rot and ozone, heavy with whispers from unseen mouths, and the sky shrieked in chorus from a thousand phantom throats—because of course the thing was haunted.

Even from the shore, I felt the pull of it in my bones. I'd never seen Sibylla fight. Not in any way that I'd call going all out. When I sat the others down on the safety of the shore and turned back, I understood why. It wasn't just a distraction. Their battle was a nightmare given flesh.

The world behind us convulsed as curses clashed, hexes crashing together like storms colliding. Shadows writhed and screamed, the blackened water frothing as tormented souls clawed their way out, shrieking with hollow mouths and dragging their chains in unending misery.

Only a fragment of the thing showed itself above the surface—its wide, flat head, slick and featureless save for those hungering, gleeful eyes, too many and too wrong to follow. Its voice wasn't a sound so much as a chorus of commands prickling the back of our minds like nails on bone, each order summoning another enslaved soul into its service. They fell on Sibylla in waves, a tide of agony.

And Sibylla… stood on the rim of her cauldron as if it were some kind of comedic floating stage. Her ridiculous hat tipped rakishly forward, her mouse perched on its brim with whiskers twitching, weaving wards faster than sight. She moved like a conductor before an orchestra, scythe raised, her thirteen black cats, no longer a missing worry in the back of my mind, now answering in perfect, terrible unison. They weren't flesh, not truly—more shadow than substance, eyes burning like dying stars, forms shifting in ways my mind had trouble accepting. Each time the monster's hexes clawed for her, the cats struck back, unraveling the curse mid-flight or shredding a soul into silence. The cauldron ate what remained, draining away as much of the taint as it could.

The canal was no longer ashen water, but a battlefield of rot and nightmares, echoing with shrieks, whispers, and the grind of chains. Every spell lit the dark like lightning, every counterstroke shattered reality with the weight of something alien. And yet… neither side gave ground. For all the chaos, all the horror, it was a stalemate. A war of thunder and shadow, two storms locked in place, neither able to tear the other apart.

Only, I had a party interface. I could see how quickly Sibylla's mana was draining. I didn't even know what was eating her stamina even faster. The pull of the tear was too much, and she was bleeding far more mana than I'd been. She could keep this up for possibly minutes longer, but that was all. And that thing could stop her from escaping through the shadows.

I looked to Amélie, where she was looking over Alice, and she gave me a nod. "She is okay. We just need to get her away from here so she can recover mana."

I let out a quick breath and nodded, "Good. You two need to take her and get into the mountain. Find the way to the next floor. I'm going to help Sibylla. We'll catch up!"

She looked like she was going to object, but the rumble of thunder reminded her how much space I needed to fight, and she nodded.

Lilith gave me a quick nod as she moved to pick Alice up. "Be careful."

And then they were gone. I turned back to the battle, used insight, and…. nothing happened. The skill failed utterly. And then with a cry, one of Sibylla's cats tumbled through the air, barely being caught by a shadowy tendril and dropped back at her feet. It was time for me to announce myself.

A long, unending rumble of thunder reverberated through the sky, the clouds slow to appear above but steadily rolling in, as inevitable as time. The monster rose slightly, drifting forward and looking to take advantage of Sibylla's momentary distraction. I raised my arm, pointing my halberd like an oversized wand, aimed for one of those disturbing orbs that had haunted me since we'd first seen them, and unleashed a [Sun Ray]. [Zeal of the Vanquished God] channeled the spell like that was its purpose for existing.

A lance of brilliant sunfire, far more powerful than expected, seared the air between us, exploding in a violent cascading wave of plasma and force. Some unseen defensive spell melted under the crushing blast, and the thing staggered back as its spirits fled higher into the sky. When the flames cleared, it looked unharmed, but I had its attention.

I risked a glance at Sibylla and yelled, "Switch!" before focusing back on the monster we were fighting. "It's me you wanted, isn't it? Let's see what you've got!"

The thing blinked at me, but the movement of Sibylla's cats rushing back to her caught its eye, and it began drifting in her direction, eyes fixing on the easier prey. Apparently, it took Sibylla's preparations to flee as a weakness.

It crept forward, right into the downward stroke of several massive tendrils of shadow, and spells once again began to fly. Sibylla didn't blink, more than ready to keep fighting while her companions returned to her, but we needed to move. I took the risk and used [Heroic Leap].

The air roared past me, and I was well above the fight in an instant. I lined up my attack, anticipating being blasted out of the sky again at any moment, but that static build-up never came. The only charge in the air was from me as snapping lines of electricity began to trace my form. And then, I crashed down like a falling star.

Every heartbeat crackled louder with [Channel Lightning] bleeding out of me in wild arcs. My halberd hummed like a live transformer, the runes along its shaft flaring as if it had been waiting for this. [Zeal of the Vanquished God] drank in the storm, thrumming with a hunger to strike something greater, something worthy.

The monster looked up, sluggish to my eyes, too used to curses and shadows and its magical duel with Sibylla to anticipate what raw force felt like. That was its mistake. I had no intention of being subtle.

[Heroic Strike] bled into my attack, every muscle thrumming as my entire being boiled with power. The sky thundered with me, and I came down like judgment itself.

More than just an attack, the impact was a detonation. A thunderclap that shattered the air, rattled bone, and staggered the tide of lesser spirits still screaming in the dark. Lightning burst outward in snapping webs, searing afterimages into the sky. My halberd slammed into the thing's flat head, the weapon's enchantments tearing through its armored hide as if it were paper, ignoring the defenses it had hidden behind for centuries. For the first time, its curses faltered, the shrieking souls scattering as the weight of the blow smashed it backward.

The water erupted outward in a geyser. The canal became a crater of boiling spray, shockwaves tearing along the surface in rolling walls that slammed into the shore.

When the spray fell back, I was standing in the middle of the wreck, halberd buried deep, lightning still crawling along my skin. The thing twitched, stunned, its grotesque eyes blinking out of sync, soul-army in chaos.

I don't think that this thing took me seriously until that moment. I had broken its magical defenses with one powerful and unexpected spell, but compared to what Sibylla had been doing, that wasn't very much, and the only other thing it had witnessed was how willing I was to flee from it. Only at that moment of impact, now that it was bleeding and disoriented, did it finally realize its mistake.

I could feel its intentions, dazed as it was, as it slowly began to move away and sink down, and I jumped off of its head, back into my levitation aura. The moment I was clear, a furry black rocket slammed into my chest, and I caught Sibylla automatically, holding her close.

"Land, please!" she chirped urgently at me, and I nodded.

With just the two of us, I didn't waste any time with floating back to shore, instead using [Wind Walking] to sprint for the beach. We'd barely made it back to land before I heard the water splash behind us and looked back to see the thing's head was above water, an unmistakable glare in those alien eyes, and thick streams of black and white blood dripping down into the water, but never mixing together.

"Oh.. no," I muttered as I finally understood. This time, with a clear line of sight and a clear head, I finally cast Lore.

Zharroth, Hound of Mannak

Greater Demon, Level 34

Description

From the abyss where desire devours restraint and craving is crowned as king, rises Zharroth, the Hound of Mannak. Bound to the will of his master yet dreadful in his own right, this greater demon prowls the world as both jailer and judge, a mockery of mortal form that shifts and reshapes with each wound. Tendrils, eyes, and mouths emerge where blades once struck, making his body less a beast of flesh than a nightmare sculpted from suffering itself.

Presence and Influence

To stand near Zharroth is to stand before temptation sharpened into torment. His very aura bends the will, twisting courage into craving, focus into fixation, and discipline into obsession. Each heart he haunts finds its own hidden hunger dragged forth, swollen until it blinds the bearer. Many have faltered without a claw laid upon them, undone by desires not their own.

Chains and Flesh

Zharroth's cruelty transcends the mortal coil. With a gesture, he rends the spirit from the body, binding souls into spectral servitude. These enslaved echoes march before him, mockeries of their living selves, their chains rattling in eternal lament as both his shield and his spear.

Even his wounds are not wounds at all, but transformations. Where others bleed, he births whispers and ichor, reshaping into new horrors. Hexes, charms, and curses slip from him like rain from stone, for he is corruption embodied, a nexus of defilement no common spell can stain. Only sacred radiance or the raw forces of primal energy can carve true scars upon him.

Cunning and Cruelty

The Hound is no mindless beast. He hunts with patience, toys with prey, and savors the splintering of spirit before the shattering of bone. Weakness calls to him as blood to sharks. The weary, the wounded, the wavering—all are marked as his feast. Feeding upon them renews his terrible strength, prolonging the pursuit until the prey's hope collapses entirely.

Ever mocking, ever merciless, Zharroth does not rush his kill. To him, despair is delicacy, and agony the only song worth hearing.

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Legends and Warnings

Though his leash binds him eternally to Mannak, whispers tell that his corruption seeps far beyond his master's grasp, staining soil, sea, and soul alike. The frail fall sick in his wake, the strong grow reckless with obsession, and the bravest crumble beneath the terror of his shadow.

Yet even legends murmur of bane as well as blight: that holy light burns where his corruption clings, and the primal forces, raw and relentless, may unmake him utterly.

Beware the leash, for it drags the unwilling.

Beware the chain, for it binds the unseen.

Beware the hunger, for it is never sated.

And beware most of all, Zharroth does not kill until the prey begs to be taken.

I blinked and looked at his bleeding head. The wound seeped even as another eye grew inside it. "Oh, that's gross. Lore says you don't bleed… maybe that means storms are a primal force."

Sibylla hopped down beside me, shifting back to her foxgirl form. "A freaking greater demon?" Sibylla asked, her eyes glazed at reading the same notification. "No wonder my curses weren't doing much. What a pain!"

"Yeah, and this one sounds like a real jerk. Come on, let's get away from the water.. and that tear," I said, beginning to run slowly backward until she began to follow me.

We were careful to keep an eye on the demon, but the moment we started moving away from the water, he sank back into it, and his army of spirits plummeted down with him. We made it halfway across the beach before we heard anything else from him.

"Hero… Hero… Beautiful Hero."

It was a voice like a gibbering, sick child, and I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I spun in a circle, but Sibylla caught my wrist and kept me moving.

"Find Hero? Hmm. Bring Hero? No, no, no."

"This thing can't be that stupid," Sibylla muttered, annoyed. "What is wrong with it?"

"Hunt. Find. FOUND! Mine now. Mine, Mine, Mine."

This time, every word sounded closer, almost like it was somehow circling us, and I slid to a stop in the sand, switching to spiritual sight, but seeing nothing alive nearby.

"Yours, huh? I think you've bitten off more than you can chew, and you don't even know it. Stop hiding and show yourself."

"Chew, chew, chew. Wants me? Fox, Fox. Little foxkin. Wants to play?"

Sibylla looked a little annoyed that I'd stopped, but I didn't want this thing to get any closer to the others than it already was.

"You can go to the others, Sibylla. I think that lore entry had a bit more to it than is obvious. I've got this."

She looked at me like I'd gone crazy. "You can't seriously think I'll abandon you to fight that thing alone?"

"Stay…Stay. You feel it, don't you? Beautiful companion. Beautiful Hero. She plucks at your heart. Love? Oh, Love!"

Its words carried… something. Like an emotional amplifier, and for half a second, I wanted to squeeze Sibylla in my arms, to keep her safe, and let her know she'd never be alone again. I wanted to tell her everything that I never said aloud, how much I cared about her, how thankful I was that she was my sister, how much I loved her quirky attitude, and how I didn't really care when she was a little too much. All the things I knew better than let slip my lips if I didn't want to end up cursed with something horrible like everything tasting like old Nutella for a month. And I saw in her eyes that she was feeling some version of the same thing, every line in her face telling me she had something she needed to say… but the swelling emotions melted away against our mental resistance, and that expression crumbled into something else.

"Shut your stupid mouth!"

I gave Sibylla a glance, and she snapped her mouth shut, but the thing's laughter echoed around us. "No… no. So shy. But you feel it. I feel it. She feels it. She is right there. She wants you, too."

Both of our eyes went wide at the ridiculous implication. I nearly laughed, and she looked like she was going to gag. It was almost enough to distract us from keeping an eye out for the creature.

I cleared my throat. "Wow. Anyway. No, it's not abandoning me to fight alone. But I can't go all out if you're next to me, just like you couldn't if I were next to you."

Thunder rumbled in the sky above, and Sibylla nodded, finally taking my meaning. "Fine. But if it looks like things aren't going well, I'm coming back."

My lips tipped up in a grin. "I know. Keep the others safe."

She nodded, and without another word, fell into my shadow.

"Pointless. Pointless! Little foxkin is food, food. Food! Too much love. Not escape. Stays to watch her Hero play… play. Not die. Oh, not die. Hunted. Found. Mine."

I slowly spun, scanning the sand with my halberd at the ready. "Yeah, buddy. Play. I read the lore entry. I know you're smarter than you're pretending. It's only me now. Why are you hiding?"

"Hiding? No. No, talking. Stalling. Mine now. Trapped. Waiting."

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling a little exposed. I jumped up and activated my [Levitation Aura] and [Channel Wind]. "I don't feel very trapped. Come on out. We can talk face to face."

His weird, crazed laugh came again. "Oh yes, trapped. The others.. fear. Protect. You stay. You Must Stay. Trapped. Stalled. Mine, mine, no escape."

His words hammered a sense of hopelessness that was far less effective than his last try. The emotion was alien. It was a terrible depression that I simply didn't feel, and it slid off me as easily as water off a duck's back.

"Oh no!" I despaired unconvincingly. "Well, I guess I am doomed. I might as well hover here defenselessly and wait to be devoured." When it still didn't appear, I sighed. "Look, I don't know what you're waiting for, but if you don't come out, I'm leaving."

"Grinding. Wearing. Penetrating." Every word felt like a knock on my brain. "Foolish foxkin. Foolish Hero. Cannot flee. Cannot fight. Hunted. Found. Trapped. Now, play."

The feeling of hopelessness came back. It felt stronger, and this time, it dragged more primal cravings with it. Hunger. Fear. Lust. Shame. Greed. And beneath it all, a heavy, suffocating urge to surrender. It was a storm of emotion trying to tear me apart in every direction at once… and then it broke. Not just on my resistance, but because of its wrongness. The alien edge of it all. These weren't my feelings, not really, and half of them I didn't even understand.

I could tell I was supposed to crave it—someone to dominate me, to control and possess me, to hurt me. And "want" was too weak a word. It was an aching need, a gnawing emptiness trying to make me believe I wouldn't be whole without it. The need to feel pain, to suffer and be humiliated, to guard it jealously as though it were mine by right. Something I should cling to, protect, as if someone might try to steal even that misery away from me.

The experience sent a shudder through my entire being, and those false feelings were beginning to be replaced by a low simmering fury. "Fine. You want to play? I know a great game."

"Play. Yes. Strong… not strong enough. Resistance crumbles. I feel it. Your weakness. Desire. Need. Mine. All mine."

Thunder rumbled overhead. "Good. I'll pick the first one. It's called hide and seek. You're going to love it."

"Fox. Little foxkin. Cannot hide. Already mine."

I nodded, mana flooding out of me and into the sky above. "Yep, you found me. But that's the best part of the game! We take turns. Now it's my turn to find you." With a snap of uncharacteristic irritation, I stopped hiding my second tail, letting both sway openly behind me. "And I'm not a foxkin."

The shock must have rattled him, forcing him to reevaluate the situation. The pressure of his aura faltered for just an instant, but I knew it wasn't fear. More like anticipation or some cruel patience. A hunter deciding how best to break its prey. It was enough. My need, anger, frustration, and fear poured into my communion with the storm above. It answered with terrible clarity.

Thunder cracked across the sky, but not from any attack on my part. My focus was entirely on the great, screaming funnel cloud already dropping impossibly fast, straight toward me.

The sky crashed down like judgment, ripping right through the veil between reality and whatever shadowed nowhere he had been hiding. Darkness shredded away like ash in firelight, and the monster screamed as the winds seized it. Its massive body was dragged free, wedge-shaped head thrashing while claws gouged useless furrows in the sand. The souls he'd bound shrieked in chorus, chains rattling as they were dragged back to reality with him, their wails stretching thin as the vortex tried to devour them all.

I cast [Eye of the Storm] just before the cyclone touched down, and the world snapped into clarity. Air stilled, sand fell silent—I stood at the center of a glass sphere no larger than forty feet across. The storm obeyed me, not the tear, its fury bending around my will. Beyond that thin boundary, wind howled and sand scoured like knives, waves ripped skyward and tore into ribbons, only to be half-devoured by the gnawing void. The storm wanted to collapse into it, to be eaten, but I held the eye steady, locking the maelstrom in place.

Here, the eye left him nowhere to run. Beyond it, the storm waited to shred him to pieces. Within it, I did. And in that forced stillness, the shadows peeled back, and I finally saw him.

The demon was bigger than I'd imagined. Even hunched, his shoulders were nearly twice my height with arms that dragged like a beast's, claws long enough to dig trenches through stone. Its neck was too long and thick for its frame, ending in that wedge-shaped head like some obscene parody of a serpent and a wolf. And worse than all of that were the eyes. Rows of them, wide-set and blinking out of time, burning with lust and hunger. Every blink was wrong. The lids snapping at odd angles made worse by the disjointed cadence. Chains pierced its flesh, dragging along scraps of shackled souls that twisted and writhed in the stormlight.

A bellow ripped from his throat as he tumbled into the clearing, the chained souls wailing with him, their torment woven into his voice. That sound alone made my skin crawl — not just because they were ghosts, but because I could feel their suffering. Whoever they'd been, they didn't deserve this. My grip tightened on the halberd until the shaft hummed with static. Twilight Harvester of Souls or not, unwanted responsibility or not, I wasn't about to let him keep a single one of them.

I didn't wait for him to recover, blasting a distracting [Sun Ray] in his direction as he tumbled and then immediately began seeding the beach with [Stormblooms]. The electric sprouts took root quickly in the fierce storm, adding another source of drain on it with the tear, but they'd be worth it if I made this quick.

Zharroth tried to stop his tumble and avoid the [Sun Ray], but his leading arm slid right into its path, sending an eruption of taint and plasma boiling upward as his defensive spells tried to fight off the sunfire, and it erupted trying to devour them. He shrieked, scrambling away from the aftermath of the collision and to his feet. I moved to charge.

The demon's eyes flared, every blink a lurch of nausea in my gut as they drilled into me, aura's flaring and shattering my momentum. His voice crashed down like a tide, full of need and hunger, battering my mind with demented chains of aimless lust, greed, and surrender.

"Little fox… resistance is nothing. You crave. You need. You are mine."

The weight pressed like claws against my heart. For one frozen breath, I felt it. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't whole without that ache, without something bigger pressing me into the dirt. If I weren't levitating, I might have fallen into the sand.

I screamed, shaking my head free of the spell, even as it continued to batter at my mind. One quick glance at my status confirmed I still had a couple levels' worth of unspent skill points. I immediately dumped seventeen into [Curse Resistance], driving it to fifty. The fist wrapped around my heart burned away, dust in the wind, but I knew it would be back. It was resistance, not immunity, and we were trapped in this battle until one of us fell.

And yet, he laughed. "Too late! Too late! No more play. He comes. Just give in. Accept Fate. Let go."

It was great advice. I let go of my grip holding back the storm. Lightning flared throughout the vortex, coiling into us both. The storm's fury ground all around us, and stormblooms unfurled to fill the beach. Zharroth was slammed from behind by an arcing bolt, and again, as he was thrown sprawling into the tangle. Thorned vines lashed furrows in his skin as the plants tried to drag him down and devour him. The horrid, metallic-tinged scent of sulfur told me just how successful they were.

I raised my halberd and charged, windwalking giving me solid footholds, aided with a powerful rush of wind. I prepared to launch myself into an attack when a wall of taint and corruption roiled out from him, and I was forced to dart away. All movement ceased from the Stormbloom as they rotted, sloshing down into the sand and coating it in sludge.

I didn't want to be thrown on the defensive, though, pulling every bit of charge in the air I could manage toward myself and channeling it into a bolt directly into his chest. He staggered back a step, nearly into the waiting wall of the storm, and somehow just looked excited. His teeth rattled like chains, his laughter sloshing out wet and hungry as his shadows twisted together into writhing tendrils. They slammed against the sand, sprouting in dozens, knotting into slick black appendages that lashed for me.

I darted upward, air hardening under my feet as I sprinted along the sky. The tendrils tore furrows where I'd been a breath before, but even as I dodged, his stolen souls screamed and swirled outward. Half-formed bodies in manacles shambled across the storm's edge, spectral hands clutching, dragging chains behind them. Their eyes were hollow wells of despair.

I felt the temptation to fight them, but I didn't need to. [Harbinger's Reach] burned like silver fire in my veins, and I snapped out my will, marking them one after another. The chains on their arms groaned as my mark spread, their forms trembling under the strain. Zharroth sneered and yanked hard on their bindings—only to stagger as one soul slipped free, fading to nothing but starlight.

His roar shook the storm. "Mine! All mine!" He dragged harder, pulling the remaining spirits back toward him like a fisherman hauling in a net. I let him. I dove into the swarm, chains snapping across my arms and shoulders as they tried to catch me. The moment their shackled hands touched my skin, they broke apart into glimmers, flowing through me and away.

The rush hit like a tidal wave—echoes of memories, voices, flashes of lives that weren't mine but brushed against me before vanishing into the Sea. Pain, love, fury, despair… every piece left its burn behind. My eyes stung, but my grip only tightened on the halberd.

Zharroth reeled. Dozens of his slaves were gone in seconds. The shadows that had buoyed his body faltered, his weight dropping harder into the sand. That hunger in his eyes blazed hotter, his head splitting wider as new rows of teeth uncoiled, chains bursting from the gaps like steel tongues.

"Thief! Parasite! You will not take them from me!"

I darted in, lining up the strike. His chest was wide open, the perfect target—too perfect. His wedge-shaped head snapped forward, neck stretching like a striking serpent. I checked my swing, ready to let his jaws clap shut in front of me—but the bite never came. Instead, his maw peeled wider, far past reason, and from that abyss poured a flood of chains, vomiting out in a wet, clattering torrent.

They screamed as they shot forward, links rattling like laughter, hooks slick with shadow. The first wave hit before I could recoil—cold iron driving through my shoulder, coiling my arms, others lashing for my legs. The air warped with the force of it, the storm bending away as if even the wind wanted nothing to do with the corruption spilling out of him.

Panic burned through my veins. I braced on hard air, shoving back, but the chains dug deeper, grinding through muscle and bone until sparks danced at the edge of my vision. My halberd was pinned to my ribs, useless, as the demon's voice crawled through my skull.

"Closer. Mine now. Crawl inside and be still."

His head lunged again, maw yawning wider than a jaw should go—spines and chains slick with rot glistening in the storm. My blood went cold with a terror I thought I'd left behind. I clawed at the links pinning me, but they only dragged harder, hauling me headfirst toward that waiting abyss.

I planted a foot against the air and tried to hold, palm sliding against the ridged flesh at the corner of his mouth. Chains slithered around my wrist and bit down. My halberd dropped away, clattering into the sand below, and his maw closed around me.

It was almost gentle. That was the worst part of it. No crushing bite. Just pressure—and barbs. Dozens of them, pricking shallow holes into my chest and ribs, just enough to bleed, just enough to pull me deeper.

There was no tongue, only a pulsing pit of chains and wet, fleshy spines, urging me down with each convulsion. I screamed as the world went dark, hot rot filling my lungs, the slurp of him swallowing me like a writhing worm. Every struggle set the spines more firmly, every kick made the pull stronger. Chains cinched around my neck. Each crushing pulse of his gullet hammered curse magic against me, trying to crack my mind and pry it open.

My hips hit the rim of his jaws, legs thrashing in blind panic. Laughter rose around me, rattling out of the chains, joined by a chorus of wailing, tormented souls. I tried to scream back, but pressure crushed my chest; there was no air left to steal.

The spines tore against me as he fought to push me further, stuck on my flailing legs, and I could feel the warm, wet sensation of my blood running down my chest and into my face. But then the chains snaked around my hips, almost gently, taunting me. I tried to kick them away as they twined up my legs, but it was useless. They punched right through my flesh, tearing at the muscles and binding them, making it impossible to struggle. I couldn't even cry out in pain.

I managed to grab onto a chain with the hand trapped against my chest, holding on tight, my mind screaming to do anything to stop that horrible pull, but it was the wrong one to grab, only pulling me down faster. It wrapped around my wrist, crawling up my arm, and I let go, my claws snapping out to full extension and tearing through it. The shriek that accompanied it cleared my mind enough to let me know I had some small way to fight back, but it felt like far too little, far too late.

Still, I wasn't about to give up. My claws lashed out as best as I could make them, tearing through the chains restraining me as much as the flesh around me. More always came, always grabbed on, tearing in, dragging me down, and still, I cut. And it didn't matter. As one final torment, he made sure to slowly slurp my feet down through his closing lips, making sure I felt it and knew there was no escape.

Almost as if he'd timed it perfectly, and maybe he had, that's when a new, horrible sensation joined the mix. The first scrape against something deeper than flesh and bone. Against my soul. Hooks dragging through me like fingers searching for seams to pry apart. Not enough to kill me, but enough to remind me what he wanted. Enough to promise what came next.

"No… no you don't!" I tried to scream, thrashing harder, blood hot in my mouth, and still no hint of air. My [Purified Empowered Soul] trait held, but every chain coiled tighter, every barbed hook threatened to tear. He was trying to devour all of me—body, mind, and soul. All I could do was sink deeper.

If nothing changed, I knew this was it. That calmed something in my mind. I had to act. So, I did the only thing I could. I let go.

The [Eye of the Storm] collapsed, the cyclone rushing inward all at once. The world spun as the storm swallowed us both, and in that violent tumble, that moment of distraction, I let loose. Lightning ripped down my arms, wild and feral, blasting outward in every direction. A [Sun Ray], then another blazed down his throat ahead of me, burning rot to steam. I hacked and tore with [Magic Rending Claws], each swing hammered with [Heroic Strike], letting instinct and rage guide a path through meat and metal. I was nearly drained already, but I refused to give up. Spines cracked, chains split, my claws sparking with desperate fury as I tore at everything around me.

And then, I felt it. My claws brushed something warm and ethereal. Something that made me shiver with hunger and greed that didn't need any influence from the demon. I felt his Soul.

Rage, vengeance, and need exploded inside me. I seized it, my talons of will and magic latching on, and for the first time, his howl wasn't mocking. It was terrified. The chains around me tightened in frantic panic, trying to pull me in, but I pulled harder. It began to tear free, even as I felt him trying to claw back away from me, his throat even convulsing in reverse. It was too late. I sank my teeth into it, the power bleeding out rather than shattering, but I didn't care. It was mine.

He fought, his spirit thrashing, writhing, trying to tear away. I bit harder, drank deeper. Another scream shook the storm, but it wasn't mine. Power poured into me, his strength unraveling as I devoured it piece by piece, tearing him apart with every bite. I almost forgot to filter out the vile parts of him, but not even I was that far gone. And then, I felt the souls chained to his, hidden away in places I was tearing open as he crumbled apart. I sent them on to the sea of souls one by one as they reached me.

"You don't get them," I snarled between clenched teeth. "Not a single one. You're mine."

The more I fed, the weaker he became—until his struggles faded to nothing but the rattling of empty chains. When I felt that final piece of him dissolve to nothing, I knew it was over.

Exhaustion hit like a hammer. The storm outside had frayed under the rift's bite while I fed; my focus had been a razor's edge, and now it slipped. I sagged, and so did the corpse I was still half inside. Chains loosened, slackening into dead weight. Spines unhooked from meat. All of it took the pressure from my many wounds, and my vision darkened with the sudden blood loss.

Hands found my ankles. Warmth rushed into torn places, healing as soft and insistent as tidewater. Someone tugged; the world tilted; my head slid free of the rotting maw. I dragged air in like I'd forgotten how, coughing black sludge and blood while voices crowded the edges of hearing.

"Easy. Breathe. I've got you." Hearing Alice's words eased another fear in the back of my mind.

I didn't open my eyes right away. Lightning still crawled over my skin in thin, stubborn lines. My claws kept twitching like they hadn't learned the fight was over. The laughter of chains was gone. The other voices, the ones that mattered, were quiet now, safe and distant as stars on a clear night.

I let my head fall back against cold, wet sand, and finally breathed.

"She's a mess. We gotta figure a way to clean her up. Too much blood… and what even is that?"

"Yes, she has a habit of ending up in this state from time to time. [Cleanse]… Are you okay, Evelyn?"

I gave a gentle nod, my neck still tender after the healing. "I'm okay," I tried, though it came out like a croak.

"Evie, you're crying," she pointed out carefully.

I automatically tried to raise a hand to my face, but twitched instead, my freshly rebuilt arm still reverberating with the pain of being shredded. "Everything hurts. It's just... that was… I hate this place. And I almost died being stupid! I was everything he was weak against, and I rushed right in headfirst instead of taking things carefully and learning how he fights!"

"Yep!" Sibylla chimed in from nearby, her voice gradually getting closer. "Everyone hates this place. It's a Water Temple. I know it's tradition to have them, but man, they always suck. If we're going over your many faults, though, why don't we start where you put up a massive wall of Tornado between you, the person who could protect you from the curses, and the healers. Good work there. Oh! And you lost your murder stick. You're lucky I found it—it was in the water. I almost just left it there."

I pounded a fist into the sand and instantly regretted it. "I know! I just, I don't know. I wanted to keep you guys safe and rescue those spirits and … I was really mad that he was trying to mess with our heads!"

I finally opened my eyes to see Lilith kneeling next to me with the others, letting us get that out of our system.

"We all make mistakes, Evelyn. You're learning from them, and that is what matters." She reached down and put a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright? Are you still hurt anywhere? Can you go on?"

I barked a laugh that sounded a lot like a sob and nodded. "I'll be fine. I hurt everywhere. Breathing hurts. I just need a minute."

I foxed, leaving my four paws awkwardly in the air, and rolled over to curl into a comfortable ball. The pain dulled to a much more manageable level, and my regeneration climbed. And most important of all, my mind calmed. Helping things along, I activated [Channel Wind], creating a soothing, gentle breeze around us and enjoying the benefits of [Windbound Resilience].

"And you totally ate that thing's soul! I felt it. I think I might actually be able to figure out the aura curses now—"

"Later," Amélie interrupted her. There was a pause, and then she continued to the rest of us, "There was a passageway down to the next level already wide open, so there is no trick to figure out there. At this point, I think our best option is to find the source of all this as quickly as possible, stop it, and get out of here. I'm concerned that a demon that powerful came here hunting us."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that ain't normal. If demons like that thing were poppin' up all over, I'd be more'n a little nervous. Especially that one. The Hound of Mannak? Name like that makes it sound like there's a whole pack of 'em huntin' out there…"

As her words trailed off, my eyes popped back open, and we all slowly looked at each other while the words settled in.

"We need to move," Lilith said, and we all nodded.

I started to stand, still terribly sore, but only limping slightly—and Amélie scooped me up, hugging me tight, and let her warm magic infuse me with comfort as the others began a slow jog toward the cave.

She whispered down into my ear, "I will need to mend your clothes when we find a safe place. They are in tatters."

I suspect her words were a distraction, but my mind was already running a million miles an hour. Were those eyes the same ones I saw on the first level? Was one of these things really enough to set so many fires across the islands? Could the fear effect of just one really break through our resistance alone?

She bopped me on top of my head, "Stop that. We will be out of here and home in no time. Everything is fine, and we are all together now."

I nodded. Home sounded good. I wanted to go home. We were almost done. I just had to keep telling myself that.

The sun disappeared as we entered the cave, and I could see what she meant. A huge stone passage stood at the end, its two massive doors swung wide open, and led into an impressive stairwell.

The others didn't even slow, moving to the floor's exit as if they'd already scouted it out, caution only appearing after crossing that threshold. The stairwell yawned wide, every stone step gleaming faintly as if lit from within. I leaned against Amélie as she carried me through, and for a moment I let myself hope this part of the dungeon might at least look normal.

But after the first spiral down, the stone began to change. Smooth blocks blurred into pearl, walls glittering like frozen moonlight. Coral sprouted from the steps themselves, brilliant reds and blues winding together in impossible patterns. Shafts of golden light danced along the walls, as though the sea above us had followed us underground.

"It's… beautiful," Lilith breathed.

"Which means it's about to suck," Sibylla muttered, adjusting her hat.

I glared at her for the jinx, but it was too late. Not a dozen steps later, the stairs shuddered beneath us, jerking downward with the lurch of a collapsing building. A crack split the spiral, echoing like thunder, and in the next breath, the entire structure gave way.

Just as the floor began to crumble, Amélie and Alice moved in concert, as if they'd practiced this a dozen times, Alice's [Water Shield] snapping around Amélie, protecting her as she cast out [Divine Shield]'s across the group one after another. The stairs fell away beneath us in a thunder of breaking stone, dissolving into dust and coral shards as though they'd never been real. I flared my [Channel Wind], pushing away the scattered debris and making sure it didn't eat into our shields, and the wind did far more than expected, destroying most of the decaying rubble nearby.

And then there was nothing. Even the sensation of gravity felt wrong, like we were falling but without the wind rushing by. The air just fell with us. Infinite, hollow void stretched in every direction. Only the stars above gave any sense of place, glittering sharp and close, like they could be plucked from the air.

It felt almost easy to forget that we really were falling, and I might have if not for that drop in my stomach. If there was a down, there was a ground. The barriers were holding back what was left of the debris, but they wouldn't stop that.

There was no time to think. I flung my paws onto Amélie's shoulder, getting a clear line of sight on everyone and casting one [Slow Fall] after, as fast as I could. It just seemed safer than finding out the hard way if Levitation Aura snapped spines at terminal velocity.

The void bent and stretched, then air roared back around us, whipping hair and tails. My head spun trying to understand the solid walls all around and the floor rushing up to meet us. We landed in near silence, the only sounds the surprised gasp and boots tapping down on polished stone. Amélie's knees nearly gave out beneath us, but it was more from disorientation than anything else. [Slow Fall] had carried us to the floor as soft as feathers.

The chamber we'd landed in was huge, circular, and far too empty. No guardian waited, no trap sprung. Only the core sat in the center, a cracked and broken monument, pieces scattered across the marble floor. A ritual circle was carved around it, deep lines filled with a faint, unnatural glow that crawled against the edges of my vision and pulsed with the sudden, soft song that somehow echoed from below.

"That's… not right," Alice whispered.

"No," Amélie said softly, eyes fixed on the ruined core. "This place is already dead."