The hours ticked by, the tension in the air growing heavier with each passing minute.
Midnight was approaching.
Jolthar's sharp eyes caught every movement, every flicker of shadow. Maelruth shifted uneasily beside him, its nostrils flaring as though sensing something amiss.
Jolthar's intuition, prickled with an anticipation that crawled beneath his skin like invisible insects.
Then, just as the clock struck midnight, a faint sound reached his ears—a low, bone-chilling screech that seemed to rise from the depths of the earth.
Jolthar stiffened, his hand moving instinctively to his sword. Maelruth let out a low growl, its tail lashing the ground in agitation.
From his elevated vantage point, Jolthar's keen eyes caught a faint distortion to the west of the valley, just beyond the last row of houses.
At first, it was subtle—a thick, shadowy haze swirling unnaturally against the moonlit backdrop.
The air itself seemed heavier, colder. The sudden chill that permeated through the valley was unnatural, and it made his hairs stand on end. Jolthar was on full alert, making his senses heightened as he prepared for whatever unseen danger lurked in the darkness.
Unlike others, Jolthar's senses were sharper due to the power of the Ascendant, an innate ability that heightened his perception and granted him a penetrating gaze. Squinting, his vision pierced through the haze, and he caught sight of it—a looming figure stepping into the valley, its gait unnatural, its presence menacing.
The figure shrouded in darkness moved with purpose, its shadowy form slipping between the houses. A living absence of illumination, a shadow that moved with a predatory calculation that defied mortal comprehension. Its movement was not linear but fractal—expanding and contracting.
With swift precision, Jolthar mounted Maelruth, the drake shifting eagerly under his weight as if it, too, sensed the urgency. Gripping the reins firmly, he leaned forward, his voice low but commanding.
Maelruth responded instantly, leaping from the rocky perch and diving into the streets below with fluid grace. The drake landed gracefully, allowing them to descend silently.
Jolthar didn't alert the others; he couldn't risk the figure slipping away. Speed and surprise were his only advantages now.
The drake's powerful limbs propelled them through the narrow alleys, its claws gripping the earth with remarkable precision. The wind rushed past Jolthar's face, his sharp gaze fixed on the west.
In seconds, they reached the spot where the disturbance had first appeared.
The being stood there in full view, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon.
Seven feet tall with a humanoid form, it was grotesquely inhuman. Its skin was dark and cracked, like dried lava, faint streaks of crimson pulsing beneath the surface. Its shoulders hunched unnaturally, and its arms were disproportionately long, ending in gnarled, clawed fingers. But it was its eyes that froze Jolthar for a moment—two glowing orbs of molten red, filled with an unnatural hunger, glaring at him. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel{f}ire.net
It snarled lowly, seemingly caught off guard by Jolthar's rapid arrival. But the teen girl remained clutched in its claws, her small body dangling helplessly.
Jolthar wasted no time.
With a sharp pull on the reins, Maelruth halted abruptly, digging its claws into the ground.
Jolthar leapt from the drake's back, unsheathing his sword in midair.
As he descended, he summoned his Voidpower, the air around him rippling with void energy. The blade in his hand seemed to hum with a life of its own, the void energy coiling around it like a sentient force.
"Voidslash!" he roared, his voice echoing through the still night.
With a powerful swing, Jolthar unleashed the attack. The sword's edge cut through the air, leaving a trail of shimmering darkness in its wake. The wind howled violently as the slash tore forward, faster than the creature could react.
The figure turned its head sharply, its glowing eyes widening in surprise. That being had underestimated him, believing it was beyond reach. But the Voidslash struck true, grazing its flank with precision.
A sickening screech erupted from the creature as the void-enhanced blade tore through its tough, cracked skin, leaving a deep, smouldering wound. Dark, viscous fluid oozed from the gash, hissing as it touched the ground.
The force of the attack startled the being, causing it to release its grip on the girl.
Jolthar lunged forward with practiced agility, catching her just before she hit the ground. He cradled her carefully, her fragile frame light in his arms, and quickly stepped back, placing her safely behind Maelruth.
Now free from its burden, the creature rose to its full height, turning its wrathful gaze on Jolthar.
The wound on its side remained, viscous liquid still oozing from the gash. Seeing that it wasn't getting healed, it let out a guttural growl that reverberated through the valley. The attack contained void power so it wasn't to heal.
Jolthar took a defensive stance, his sword still humming with residual void energy.
He studied the creature intently, noting every movement, every twitch. It was no ordinary being; the malevolent aura it exuded confirmed that it was something far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
The drake growled low, stepping protectively in front of the girl, its sharp eyes locked on the creature. Jolthar tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
The night had truly begun.
Eran, having witnessed Maelruth leap from its perch and into the streets below, knew something urgent was unfolding. Without hesitation, he directed his knights to follow the drake's path.
The sound of the being's screech had already echoed through the valley, drawing more attention.
Daus and his warriors, along with Belan and Lysandra, hurried to the scene as well. The valley, once eerily quiet, was now alive with the sound of boots on stone and the hum of weapons being drawn.
When they arrived, they found Jolthar standing with Maelruth, the unconscious girl safely tucked behind the drake.
The creature loomed before them, towering at seven feet tall, its cracked, dark skin glistening unnaturally under the pale moonlight. Its molten red eyes seemed to glow brighter as it took in the gathering of warriors.