Geneva hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she studied Lyle's expression. He met her gaze head-on, refusing to show even the slightest weakness. Around them, murmurs spread through the group, uncertainty taking root. Lyle could feel the shift—Geneva's control wasn't absolute. Not yet. If he played this right, he could turn the tide in his favor.
Beside her, the red-haired man—Genevo Graye—crossed his arms. "If he's willing to surrender, what's the point of keeping him in chains?"
Lyle tensed. Let me out of the chains? That didn't add up. Geneva had whispered something to Genevo moments ago, yet now he was openly questioning her? What is he planning?
Suspicion flared in Lyle's mind. Skill Activation: Identify.
—Geneva Graye.
—Genevo Graye.
—Varzan Graye.
Lyle's breath hitched. The little boy with emerald eyes—Varzan—and the red-haired man weren't just random allies. They were her brothers.
His gaze flicked between them. Why would her own brother want to release me?
Then another realization struck him—everyone in the group was at least level 15, except for Varzan, who was only level 7.
Geneva is level 26. Genevo is level 28. And now, out of nowhere, Genevo wanted to set him free?
Lyle's mind raced. What is he up to?
The man glanced back at the group. Markus looked annoyed, clearly frustrated by the restraints. Ramsey moved sluggishly, almost stumbling with each step. Despite being in handcuffs, Finn remained calm and quiet. Then there was Aria—her gaze fixed on the ground, her expression unreadable.
Genevo's eyes lingered on her for a moment before shifting back to Lyle. A slow smile spread across his face.
Lyle's mind raced. What is he up to?
Genevo's slow smile lingered, but Lyle wasn't fooled—this was a game, and he was the piece being moved. The weight of the group's eyes on him, the uncertain murmurs... all of it meant Geneva's control wasn't as absolute as she wanted it to be.
A flicker of movement—Varzan adjusting his stance, Markus shifting impatiently—snapped Lyle back to the moment. He couldn't afford distractions. Not now.
Because somewhere far away, beneath a sky fractured like broken glass, another fight had already begun.
The spectral Azure Strifelion soared through the fractured sky, its translucent wings scattering reflections of molten gold and deep violet. Jacob and Connor sat at the front, their shared body adjusting instinctively to the creature's flight, while Rowan clung to them from behind, still aching from the last battle.
Rowan let out a breath, shifting his weight carefully. "Alright," he muttered, "as far as bad ideas go, this one isn't the worst."
Connor smirked. "Told you."
Jacob, however, was silent, his gaze locked onto the horizon. The further they flew, the more the air around them felt wrong—like the weight of something immense pressing down, unseen but undeniable.
A notification pulsed at the edge of their vision.
Hollow Craft Assimilation: 35%…
Rowan leaned forward. "That's the second time I've seen that phrase pop up. What the hell is Hollow Craft?"
Jacob exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his temple. "We don't know yet. But it's tied to whatever pulled us into the void earlier."
Connor frowned. "And it's still growing."
That wasn't the only problem. As they neared their destination—a looming black structure embedded in the farthest reach of the obsidian plain—something stirred below.
A pulse.
Not sound. Not movement. Just… pressure.
The Azure Strifelion tensed, letting out a low, glassy growl. Its luminous eyes flicked downward.
Jacob and Connor followed its gaze.
Below, a sea of obelisks stretched endlessly, rising like jagged teeth from the earth. But it wasn't the sight of them that set their nerves on edge.
It was the way the shadows around them moved.
Rowan shifted uneasily. "Tell me you guys see that."
Connor's hands tightened into fists. "We see it."
And then, from the depths of the shifting darkness—
They saw something staring back.
A pair of massive, glowing amber eyes flickered into existence beneath the obelisks, their gaze locked onto the trio above.
Jacob barely had time to react before a second notification hit.
WARNING: Abyssal Presence Detected.
Designation: Unchained Warden.
Hostile Intent: IMMINENT.
The shadows surged upward.
Impact in 3…
2…
1.
The Azure Strifelion shrieked as a spear of darkness erupted from the ground, aiming directly for them.
The beast veered sideways, narrowly avoiding the spear. Jacob and Connor pushed their mana to its limits, desperately trying to summon an attack, but—
A notification flashed before them:
Alert: Host Soul Severely Damaged.
Due to excessive strain, skill usage is temporarily disabled.
Error…
Error…
Rowan barely had time to process what had happened. He had thrown his axe—but what followed stunned him. In an instant, he was pulled toward it, teleporting to its location.
Jacob and Connor exchanged a tense glance. Their skills were completely unusable, and a rising sense of panic began to take hold.
Rowan stumbled as he reappeared, gripping his axe tightly. His breath came in ragged gasps. "Okay," he muttered, shaking off the disorientation. "That's new."
No time to dwell on it.
The Unchained Warden's presence swelled, pressing down on them like an ocean tide threatening to drown everything in its path. The spear of darkness that had missed them retracted, dissolving into the writhing shadows below. But it wasn't retreating—it was preparing for another strike.
Jacob and Connor clenched their fists, trying once more to summon their abilities. Nothing. Their connection to their skills remained severed, leaving them vulnerable.
"Damn it," Connor hissed. "We're dead weight right now."
Rowan scanned the battlefield below, his mind racing. "Then we have to adapt. That thing's fast—too fast. If we don't move first, we're done."
The Azure Strifelion roared in agreement, its crystalline form shifting as it prepared to evade another attack.
Then, the amber eyes of the Unchained Warden narrowed.
A second spear of darkness shot toward them, splitting into three midair—one for each of them.
Jacob and Connor barely managed to twist their body aside, the spear grazing past them with a chilling void-like energy. Rowan, acting on instinct, flung his axe once more. The moment it left his hand, he vanished—teleporting just before the spear could impale him.
Reappearing beside his weapon, he caught it mid-spin, landing on a lower obelisk. "Okay," he muttered, panting. "I think I can work with this."
The Unchained Warden shifted beneath the shadows, watching, assessing. It wasn't just attacking wildly—it was studying them, adjusting to their movements.
Jacob and Connor tightened their grip on the Azure Strifelion's reins. If their skills weren't coming back anytime soon, they had to rely on something else.
Their wits.
Their timing.
And Rowan's newfound ability.
Another notification flashed in their vision.
Hollow Craft Assimilation: 42%…
Jacob gritted his teeth. Whatever that meant, it was still climbing.
And something told him that when it hit 100%… everything would