A ripple in the darkness, silent and slow. Then, like a clawed hand reaching from beneath the earth, a tendril of pure shadow slithered along the ground.
Helion didn't notice until it was too late.
The darkness surged up and wrapped around his ankle, yanking hard.
"Ahhh—Zeyr!!" Helion shouted, arms flailing as his feet were pulled from under him.
He hit the ground hard, the shadows now creeping up his legs, coiling tight like serpents. The cave spun. His limbs wouldn't respond.
"I—I can't move! It's sucking me in—!"
The darkness twisted around him, flickering like smoke, like oil, dragging him toward a cracked wall that pulsed with eerie light. The pressure around him tightened.
Helion reached for his blade—but his arms were bound in place by the curling void.
Panic rose in his throat.
Then—a sharp sound cut through the cave.
Zeyr was moving.
He stepped forward, calm but fast—one hand already on the hilt of his sword.
With a clean motion, he unsheathed it.
And the moment the blade cleared the scabbard, the entire air around them changed.
It wasn't steel that glinted—it was obsidian-black, polished and smooth like glass, and it shimmered faintly with purple sparks. A smoky aura poured off the blade, drifting like fog made of stars.
Zeyr didn't speak. He didn't yell.
He simply raised the blade—and pointed it at the writhing shadow.
The rogue spirit let out a scream, not with sound, but with mana—a deep, guttural pulse of hatred. And then—
Zeyr swung once.
A flash of dark light erupted. The shadows exploded outward like glass shattering in another dimension. The spirit vanished—obliterated.
Helion collapsed, gasping, arms trembling. He pushed himself up slowly.
"That thing… it was holding me," he muttered. "You couldn't give me a warning?"
Zeyr sheathed the sword slowly, the purple mist fading from its edge. "You're the one who said not to explore," he replied, eyes still scanning the cave's edge. "You just stood a little too still."
Helion shot him a look. "Was that your elemental spirit's magic?"
Zeyr didn't answer right away. He turned his back, voice dry. "Something like that."
Before Helion could press him, a low rumble echoed through the cavern.
Then—a thunderous crack.
The ground trembled.
Chunks of stone began to fall from above.
Zeyr didn't hesitate. He turned and unleashed a slash upward—a wave of pure energy carved into the ceiling, disintegrating the falling debris in a single brilliant arc.
Helion's eyes widened. "What the hell was that?!"
Zeyr lowered his blade slowly. His expression had hardened.
"Something's reacting to our presence," he said. "And it's not happy."
Mana began to twist in the air—thick, oppressive, and ancient. It churned like a storm gathering in the center of the cavern, coalescing into a violent ripple of dark energy.
A tear in space split the air open like paper—and something stepped through.
It wasn't like the others.
This one was massive. Easily twice Zeyr's height, with a body carved from -quartz like stone and muscle. Its skin shimmered with embedded crystals. Four arms flexed with crushing force, and its back curved with jagged horns like a mountain's crown. Runes glowed dimly across its body like cracks in volcanic rock.
Its voice was a low boom, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"Who dares enter my cave?"
Helion instinctively stepped back.
Zeyr didn't flinch.
He took a casual step forward, one hand resting lazily on his hip.
"We're just travelers," he said. "Passing through. Looking for something, if you must know."
He smirked.
The spirit's eyes glowed brighter. "This is my domain. You come here seeking to steal from me."
Helion raised his hands nervously. "W-we didn't touch anything! Seriously!"
Zeyr held up a hand, silencing him.
"We're not stealing. Just retrieving something. In and out. You won't even notice."
He started walking again—unbothered. Confident.
Helion hesitated, then trailed behind him, his eyes glued to the creature.
The spirit—let out a deep, grinding growl. Without warning, it raised one massive arm and hurled a chunk of glowing stone.
BOOM.
The stone exploded into the ground directly in front of Zeyr, cracking the cavern floor and halting his stride.
Dust rolled across the space between them.
Zeyr's smirk remained, but his eyes sharpened. He looked up slowly, brushing his coat sleeve.
"…Shouldn't have done that."
Hex stepped forward, the ground quaking beneath him. "You dare dismiss me, mortal? You think you'll walk in and out unscathed?"
Zeyr exhaled through his nose, calm.
"You have no idea who you're picking a fight with."
Hex snarled, the crystals on his shoulders pulsing. "I am Hex, the Spirit of Stonehedge. Guardian of this sacred core. I've shattered kings and crushed mountains."
Zeyr cracked his neck. "Good for you."
Helion whispered behind him, tense. "Zeyr… I don't think I'm ready for this one."
Zeyr tilted his head slightly, never looking back.
"Who said anything about you fighting?"
Helion blinked. "Wait, what?"
Zeyr drew his blade slowly. The air shifted—pressure rising like a coming storm.
"Watch closely. This is your next lesson."
The blade flared dark. Smoke and stars swirled around the edge of it.
Across from him, Hex lowered into a stance, arms wide, body rippling with raw mana.
Two forces—one forged from war, the other from stone and age—collided in a blast of elemental energy, and the cave lit up in an instant
The two forces collided.
Zeyr's mana and Hex's raw spiritual energy clashed like titans locked in a war of will—two storms trying to consume the same sky.
Pressure rippled outward in all directions, shaking the very bones of the cavern. Stones trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath their feet.
Then—
Boom!
Both figures vanished in a flash.
Blurs in midair.
Zeyr's blade crashed against Hex's four massive arms, each one coated in hardened stone and pulsing with spiritual force. The impact echoed like thunder cracking inside a mountain.
Clank. Boom. Crack!
Zeyr's movements were surgical—each strike slashing between arms, redirecting force, slipping past the weight of Hex's blows with unnatural speed.
He moved like a storm given form. Not brute force—precision.
Hex staggered back, eyes wide.
He's too fast… the spirit thought, trying to pivot.
It's like he's dancing around me… I can't track him.
Another blow struck his shoulder.
Another cut grazed his crystal-studded chest.
Zeyr's coat flared as he shifted low, sliding beneath a sweeping arm and slicing upward across Hex's side.
"Come on now," Zeyr called over the clash, a grin tugging at his lips.
"I thought you'd be more of a match!"
Hex growled, his sharp stone teeth grinding in fury. He took two steps back, then roared—and with it, summoned a slab of sharpened quartz from the ground. A blade of earth and mana, jagged and glowing. Big enough to level a man. Or three.
He raised it to strike.
Zeyr's eyes narrowed.
Flash.
In a blink, he was gone.
Swishhhhhh—
Zeyr reappeared directly in front of Hex. His sword already swung.
Slice.
The quartz didn't shatter—it split. Perfectly. Down the center. Two clean halves dropped to the cavern floor with twin thuds.
Helion gasped from the ledge, eyes wide. "No way…"
Zeyr's sword hummed faintly, still glowing with black and violet energy.
He looked up at Hex, who now stared at him—not just in frustration… but respect.
The silence lingered for a heartbeat.
Then Hex bellowed, slamming both fists into the ground. Stone spikes erupted around him like jagged teeth from the floor.
Zeyr backflipped away, landing in a crouch between two of the spires, unfazed.
"You really want to keep going?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Because at this point, you're just giving me exercise."
Hex's mouth curled into a crooked, menacing grin—more shadow than smile. His crystal eyes gleamed with dark intent.
"If I can't beat you…" he snarled, voice thick with venom, "then I know exactly what I'll do."
His gaze snapped toward Helion.
Helion froze.
Wait…
Before he could react, Hex extended his hand and—
FWOOSH.
Hundreds of razor-sharp quartz shards exploded from his palm like a barrage of needles, screaming through the air, all aimed directly at Helion.
Helion's eyes widened, his breath caught.
He didn't have time to react.
Didn't have time to draw his blade.
"Helion—!" Zeyr roared.
And in a heartbeat—
BOOM.
Zeyr's mana erupted.
A shockwave of violet and black mana burst outward from his body like a violent flame, ripping across the cave like a living force.
He stepped forward, his voice deep, commanding.
"Obsidawn."
The air warped. The ground cracked.
And then—he raised his blade.
"Spirit Skill…"
"Obsidian Null."
A dome of pure darkness exploded outward from him, swallowing the air around him in a perfect sphere of void—colorless, silent, final. It washed over Helion just before the shards reached him.
The moment the crystal barrage crossed into that radius—they vanished.
Gone.
No sound. No trace.
Inside the dome of Obsidian Null, there was nothing.
No light.
No magic.
No spirit flow.
Just silence.
The quartz attack dissolved into flickers of mana, completely neutralized—devoured by the void.
Zeyr stood at its center, cloak flaring, blade humming, eyes glowing with dark fire.
The edges of the dome flickered once more before retracting, collapsing back into him like shadows returning to their source.
Helion dropped to one knee, staring wide-eyed at the space where the shards had been just moments ago.
"I… I didn't even see them coming…" he whispered.
Zeyr turned, his voice sharper now. "Hex, that was your last mistake."
Hex stumbled backward, his expression faltering—no longer wicked, but shaken.
The cavern trembled.
Zeyr raised his blade again, and this time… he wasn't smiling.
Hex stumbled back, shards of crystal cracking under his feet.
His voice trembled with disbelief.
"That's… impossible."
He stared at the dissipating black aura still faintly lingering around Zeyr.
"You completely nullified my shards… Like they didn't even exist…"
Zeyr stood silent for a moment—his blade still drawn, his aura simmering like dying embers.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Because you're a coward."
His tone was cold—measured. Each word heavy as stone.
He took a step forward, his boots grinding against the mana-charged stone.
"You couldn't beat me. So, you aimed for the boy."
He exhaled slowly. "Typical of a spirit that's forgotten what real strength looks like."
Helion watched from behind, his heart racing—eyes locked on Zeyr.
And then he saw it.
Zeyr's shoulders—
Not slouched. Not broken.
But heavy.
For the first time… Zeyr looked exhausted.
Not outwardly beaten—but dimmed. His stance still proud and precise, his grip still steady, but there was a faint tremor in his breath.
A subtle falter in his balance.
That skill—Obsidian Null—it hadn't just drained mana. It had taken a toll.
Helion's brows furrowed.
"Zeyr…" he murmured.
Zeyr tilted his chin slightly, his eyes never leaving Hex.
"You talk like a god," he said to the spirit, "but crumble like clay the moment someone resists."
He raised his sword again, slowly—methodically.
"Let me show you how a real fighter finishes a battle." Zeyr said.
Zeyr stepped back, exhaling as mana surged around him once more.
But this time—it changed.
The violet aura shifted, brightening into a celestial shimmer. The edges of his blade began to sparkle—like stardust in motion. The steel turned darker still, absorbing light, blending seamlessly into the cave's shadow-soaked walls.
It was no longer a sword. It was a tear in reality.
Zeyr raised it high above his head, his voice low and calm.
"Fade." He said, then he brought it down.
The slash wasn't just a swing—it was a force. Wind screamed, magic erupted in a wave that cracked the cavern walls. Everything trembled beneath the power of the strike.
Hex roared in defiance, throwing up three massive stone pillars to guard himself—each the size of trees.
But it wasn't enough.
The energy hit like a storm. The pillars shattered on impact, splintering into shards that disintegrated before they hit the ground. The entire path ahead was obliterated rubble turned to dust in the wake of Zeyr's magic.
"NOOOOO!" Hex's voice echoed through the crumbling air.
"I am the guardian of this cave! This is MY domain! I refuse let you take it from me!"
In a final desperate act, his crumbling form dissolved—morphing into a thick, black ooze. The spirit tried to merge with the stone itself, his voice fading like slime sinking into the cracks of the floor.
Zeyr didn't hesitate.
With one final slash, clean and brutal, he carved through the floor.
The impact silenced the cave.
When the dust settled, only a quarter of Hex's presence remained—just the faint shimmer of shattered spirit energy scattering into the mana-rich air.
Zeyr stood still, blade lowered.
He muttered under his breath, brow furrowed.
"Sneaky son of a…"
Then he turned—and froze.
He'd almost forgotten Helion was still standing behind him, wide-eyed, heart pounding.
Zeyr's hardened gaze softened slightly.
"Are you hurt, boy?"
Helion blinked, the chaos still fading from his mind.
He shook his head slowly.
"No… I'm okay. Thank you."
Faint motes of energy drifted through the air, remnants of Hex's shattered form slowly dissolving into the mana-rich atmosphere. The once-hostile pressure had begun to ease, though traces of it still lingered in the stone.