The chamber was silent.


    Not the silence of peace.


    The silence of something waiting.


    The Veilborn stood before the torn Veil that is re patching itself, his robes unmoving, his mask smooth as bone.


    Elizabeth lay crumpled at his feet—unconscious, her fingers still brushing the shredded fabric.


    He exhaled slowly, turning his hollow gaze to the gathered warriors of the Kierane Clan. The last keepers of the Veil.


    And he smiled.


    "Ah…" His voice was like silk unraveling. "You came to die together. How touching."


    Lord Rael Kierane stepped forward, drawing the ancient blade of their bloodline. His Titan Core roared to life, shrouding him in an aura of silver light.


    "We are the last line," he said, voice unshaken. "And we will not let you pass."


    The Veilborn tilted his head. Amused.


    "Pass?"


    He lifted one long, pale hand—


    And the chamber collapsed.


    They never saw how he moved.


    One moment, he stood still.


    The next—


    Blood sprayed across the stone.


    Three warriors fell before they could even raise their weapons. Their Titan Cores snuffed out, their bodies crumpling like paper.


    The Veilborn''s hand was still outstretched, fingers dripping crimson.


    "Mm." He exhaled, flexing his hand. "Your lives are so… soft."


    The Kieranes charged.


    They were no common fighters. They had spent their lives training for this moment. The moment the Veil cracked. The moment something came through.


    Blades flashed. Techniques roared.


    Core Resonance shook the air.


    And the Veilborn laughed.


    With a wave of his hand, shadows bloomed—not cast by light, but hungry.


    They moved like living things, rising from the cracks in the stone, stretching like limbs.


    A spear of darkness pierced a warrior''s chest.


    A tendril wrapped around another''s throat.


    One by one, the Kierane fell.


    And the Veilborn never took a step


    Lady Selene Kierane did not fight.


    She commanded.


    "Fall back!" she called. "We need a runner—someone must reach the outside!"


    The warriors shifted.


    Not to flee.


    To shield.


    A young knight—Orin Kierane—turned to run. The last son of the bloodline.


    The Veilborn''s hollow eyes turned toward him.


    "Ah. A rat scurrying for the light?"


    The shadows lunged.


    Lord Rael moved first.


    His blade **flashed—**silver light tearing through the darkness, holding it back for a moment.


    Just one moment.


    Long enough for Orin to disappear up the stone passage.


    The Veilborn sighed.


    "How disappointing."


    Then—he stepped forward.


    The chamber was a graveyard.


    Of the dozens who stood against him, only two remained.


    Lord Rael.


    Lady Selene.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    And between them—Elizabeth''s unconscious body.


    The Veilborn studied them, his mask tilting.


    "I should commend you," he mused. "But it would be a lie."


    Rael''s hands shook on his blade. His Core burned low—drained, trying to recover his Ether.


    Selene knelt by Elizabeth, brushing a strand of hair from her face.


    Her voice was quiet. "You will not harm her."


    The Veilborn chuckled.


    "Harm? No, no, no…" He crouched, staring down at the sleeping girl.


    "You opened the door, child. That makes you useful."


    He stood. "I will spare your life."


    Then—


    The shadows descended.


    The Veilborn stood amidst the carnage, his robes untouched by the blood pooling at his feet.


    His voice was silk, smooth and slow, like a blade gliding across the throat.


    "This was supposed to be the great Kierane Clan?" He exhaled, disappointed. "You trained for centuries to stop us, yet I stand unscathed. Perhaps your ancestors were merely deluded."


    Lord Rael Kierane clenched the hilt of his blade. Silverflame. The sword that had stood as the clan''s last defense for generations. Its edge trembled in his grip.


    Not with fear.


    But with power.


    Rael exhaled, and the air shifted.


    His Core ignited.


    A silver aura exploded around him, rippling like fire. It clashed against the darkness, pushing back the writhing shadows creeping toward him.


    His voice was steady. "You are no god."


    The Veilborn tilted his head. "Oh? Show me, then."


    Rael vanished.


    The ground shattered beneath his feet as he lunged forward, blade flashing like a star.


    The Veilborn raised a single finger—


    CLANG!


    A shockwave erupted as Silverflame met the darkness. The stone floor cracked, and the chamber walls trembled under the sheer force of the impact.


    Rael did not stop.


    "Titan Resonance Art—SILVER NOVA!"


    Light roared from his Core, engulfing his entire body. He slashed three times in an instant—each strike a blinding arc of silver light.


    The Veilborn moved like mist.


    He sidestepped the first strike.


    He twisted past the second.


    And with the third—


    He caught the blade with his bare hand.


    "Oh." His voice was amused. "This one is special."


    Rael''s eyes widened as his Silverflame burned against the Veilborn''s palm—yet did nothing.


    "You think light is the answer?" The Veilborn tightened his grip—and shattered the blade.


    The fragments of Silverflame fell like dying stars.


    Rael staggered back, his Titan Core flickering. His breath came ragged now, but his hands remained steady.


    The Veilborn stepped forward.


    "I''ll grant you an honor."


    Darkness coiled around his arm, shaping into a blade blacker than the void.


    "You die by my hand."


    Rael''s Core flared one last time.


    With a roar, he raised his fist—


    "Core Resonance—Silver STRIKE!"


    The final light of the Kierane exploded.


    The chamber became a battlefield of blazing silver and endless night


    The battlefield was drenched in moonlight. Smoke curled from the ruins of the Kierane stronghold, its once-proud spires reduced to jagged silhouettes against the night sky. The air crackled with the remnants of Core energy, and the stench of burning stone lingered.


    At the heart of the devastation, two figures stood.


    One was Lady Serene Kierane.


    Her cloak billowed as she held her glaive—a weapon of tempered silver, its edges humming with raw energy. Her stance was unyielding, her breath slow and measured.


    Before her loomed the Veilborn.


    He was tall, wrapped in flowing robes that moved as if untouched by wind. His presence felt like an abyss given form, a figure whose mere existence devoured light. His eyes were pits of shifting void, cold and ancient. A smirk played at his lips, mocking yet intrigued.


    "Another Kierane steps forward to die?" His voice was smooth, like oil poured over steel. "Your husband fought bravely. You should take pride in that."


    Serene''s grip tightened.


    "Then you''ll find I am not my husband."


    The Veilborn chuckled.


    "Show me, then."


    In a single motion, Serene lunged.


    Her glaive flashed in a perfect crescent, a blinding arc of silver light. The force of the strike split the air, cutting through the lingering embers of battle—


    But the Veilborn wasn''t there.


    He moved like a shadow.


    One step, and he was suddenly behind her. His hand, wreathed in pure darkness, shot forward—


    Serene twisted, her instincts sharper than thought. The glaive''s handle snapped up, deflecting his strike just inches from her throat.


    She spun, her footwork fluid, her weapon dancing in her grip. With a flick, she unleashed a second slash—


    "Core Resonance—MOONFALL EDGE!"


    A crescent of radiant silver erupted from her blade, racing toward the Veilborn.


    He did not dodge.


    He raised his hand—and caught the attack.


    The light writhed in his grip, twisting, struggling—before he crushed it into nothingness.


    Serene''s heart pounded. "He neutralized it… effortlessly."


    The Veilborn sighed. "Your light is impressive. But light alone cannot banish the abyss."


    His fingers snapped—


    And darkness erupted.


    A tidal wave of void energy engulfed the battlefield.


    Serene''s vision blurred as the force crashed into her. She planted her feet, forcing her Core to flare—her silver aura expanding, pushing back against the consuming black.


    But it wasn''t enough.


    "Veilborn Doctrine—HOLLOW REQUIEM."


    The darkness around her screamed.


    The sound was unlike anything mortal—a whisper that carved into the soul, a silence that weighed like chains.


    Her arms felt heavy.


    Her legs refused to move.


    Her light flickered.


    The Veilborn stepped forward, his voice a murmur that carried through the void.


    "Do you understand now?" He leaned closer, watching her struggle. "This world has forgotten the truth. Darkness is not merely the absence of light. It is the original state of all things. The eternal reality."


    Serene gritted her teeth.


    Her Core still burned.


    Her body still moved.


    She was not finished.


    With a cry, she thrust her glaive forward—


    But the Veilborn''s hand caught her wrist.


    "Enough."


    And then—agony.


    Dark tendrils coiled around her arm, burrowing beneath her skin. Her Core flared wildly, trying to repel it—but the darkness was inside her now.


    Her vision blurred.


    Her strength failed.


    She fell to one knee, gasping.


    Then—


    The darkness swallowed the battlefield whole.


    ---


    Selene Kierane knelt beside Elizabeth, brushing her daughter''s hair back from her face.


    Rael lay beside her, his body broken, but his gaze never left them.


    The Veilborn was gone.


    Darkness would return.


    But for now—there was only this moment.


    Selene smiled softly, her hand trembling as she cupped Elizabeth''s cheek.


    "You were always our greatest joy."


    Rael''s voice was weak, yet firm.


    "We love you, Elizabeth. That will never fade."


    Selene pressed her forehead to her daughter''s, whispering.


    "Live. And never forget… that you were loved, even under bad circumstance"


    Then, with the last embers of their Cores flickering into silence—


    They were gone


    The morning sun refused to shine.


    Gray clouds hung over the shattered ruins of the Kierane Clan''s home. The once-proud training halls, the towering spires of the fortress—all reduced to ash and rubble. The wind whispered through the wreckage, carrying the last echoes of battle, the final screams of the fallen.


    Elizabeth stood alone.


    Her knees pressed into the dirt, her hands gripping the torn remains of her mother''s cloak. Her body trembled, but she did not feel the cold. She did not feel anything at all.


    Her people were gone.


    Her mother. Her father. Her friends. The warriors who had trained her, who had laughed with her, scolded her, loved her—


    All gone.


    A sharp breath tore from her throat. It came out uneven, strangled. She couldn''t breathe.


    Her mind screamed, This isn''t real.


    It can''t be real.


    She turned, desperate, searching. Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe—maybe if she looked hard enough, she would see someone standing, still breathing, still fighting.


    But there was nothing.


    Just the endless silence of the dead.


    Her hands clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms. Tears blurred her vision. She hated it.


    She hated this.


    "No…" The word came out as a whisper. "No, no, no—"


    Her voice cracked. She forced herself to stand—only to fall back to her knees. Her legs wouldn''t hold her.


    Her Core was still weak. The battle had drained her. But it wasn''t just that.


    Her body could heal.


    Her soul was breaking.


    Her head tilted toward the sky, toward the gods, toward anything that could hear her.


    "Why?!" she screamed.


    Her voice echoed over the ruins, over the dead, but no answer came.


    She gritted her teeth. Her whole body trembled with rage, with grief, with something she couldn''t contain.


    She slammed her fist into the dirt. Again. And again. Until her knuckles bled. Until the pain numbed everything else.


    This shouldn''t have happened.


    They were strong. Her father. Her mother. The warriors of the Kierane Clan—they were powerful!


    So why?


    Why did they die?


    And worse—why was she still alive?


    She was the one who released the Veilborn.


    Her hands had undone the seal.


    Her existence was a mistake.


    Her breath hitched. The thought rooted itself deep inside her chest, clawing at her lungs, making it hard to breathe.


    She should have died with them.


    She should have—


    A cold wind rushed past her. Something shifted.


    And suddenly—


    She wasn''t there anymore.


    ---


    Darkness.


    Not the simple absence of light, but a presence.


    It moved. It breathed.


    She stood in a place that was not the ruins of her home.


    It was a cavern, vast and endless. The walls whispered—not with voices, but with something deeper, something that pressed against her mind. A knowledge unspoken.


    She turned—and saw them.


    Figures carved into stone. Ancient warriors. Veilborn Hunters. Names lost to time, their faces weathered by the centuries.


    And at the heart of it all—


    A door.


    It was massive, its surface lined with glyphs, pulsing faintly with an energy she recognized.


    Her breath came shallow.


    This place…


    She had heard whispers of it before. A legend passed through her clan. A place where only the worthy could step.


    The dungeon of illusion in Veyrith.


    The place where the Veilborn''s fate could be rewritten.


    The realization struck her like lightning.


    This wasn''t just a vision.


    It was a summons.


    Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.


    Was this why she survived?


    Not to mourn.


    Not to die.


    But to fight.


    Her fingers curled into fists. Her voice, still raw from grief, came out steady.


    "I won''t let it end here."


    And then—


    The vision shattered.


    She gasped, her eyes snapping open.


    The ruins of her home greeted her once more.


    But now—she wasn''t lost.


    She knew where she had to go.


    She wiped the last of her tears, pushing herself to her feet.


    The weight of grief was still there, heavy on her shoulders. But beneath it—


    A fire had begun to burn.


    ---


    To be continued