CHAPTER 73: SHADOW FEN MESHES MISSION 5

Their trial was far from been over, but their bonds were forged in fire, shadow, and earth held them steady, a beacon against the coming storm.

Kelvin coughed and the sound was painful in his throat as he waved a hand to clear the haze.

His left arm vibrated where a zombie’s claw had grazed him during their desperate escape, a shallow wound that pulsed with each heartbeat, but he shoved the pain to the back of his mind.

His focus was narrowed down to his companions, Lyra and Darius, the other two pillars of the Tide’s Crest.

Lyra emerged from the shadows with her silver hair filled with mud. The gauntlet on her right hand glowed faintly, the runes she had woven to collapse the tunnel still shimmered with residual energy.

Her sharp eyes scanned the cramped space and a sign of concern broke through her usual composure. "Is everyone alright?" she asked with her voice steady but edged with strain.

Darius pulled himself up from where he had been flung against the wall. His dark hair was plastered with dirt, but he flashed a crooked grin that did not get to his tired eyes.

"I am good," he said, though his tone betrayed the effort it took him to stand. Rhoam, his massive iron-plated beast, loomed over him, the clink of his metal plates was a reassuring sound as the creature nudged Darius with a broad snout.

Kelvin exhaled, a relief that cut through the tension that is coiled to his chest. "Good. We need to keep moving. That collapse took us time, but the den is close now and we can not stop now."

He turned to Xerion the End-Tyrant, whose eyes gleamed in the dimness. The beast’s fiery mane flickered low, a sign of exhaustion that mirrored Kelvin’s own.

Reaching out, Kelvin ran a hand through Xerion’s scale, the heat seeping into his chilled fingers. "You did well, buddy," he murmured. Xerion pressed into the touch, a silent exchange that increased Kelvin’s resolve.

Lyra knelt down briefly and checked through her pack quickly. Her frown deepened as she spoke. "We are low on healing salves. If we get into another fight like that..."

"We will manage," Kelvin cut in, though her words settled like a stone in his gut. He met her gaze and had to force confidence into his voice. "Let’s just be careful."

They gathered themselves and pressed forward, the tunnel’s end opened into a narrow path that went deeper into the Shadowfen Marshes.

The fog was thickened, a cloying shroud that swallowed sound and blurred the edges of their vision. Each step was a gamble, the ground squelched and shifted beneath their boots, a treacherous mix of mud and hidden roots.

The air carried the stench smell of rot, undercut by a metallic tang that prickled Kelvin’s senses: dark magic was growing stronger the closer they drew to its source.

Kelvin took a point, his staff probed the path ahead for hidden dangers. Lyra followed with her eyes scanning across the terrain, while Darius guarded their rear, his soulstone gauntlet hummed faintly with pent-up energy.

Their beasts moved in the form of a carriage. Xerion’s flames casted fleeting shadows, Salaris slinked through the gloom with feline grace, Rhoam’s heavy tread was a steady anchor in the chaos.

The silence pressed down, which was broken only by the wet slap of their boots and the distant of mournful wails of unseen creatures.

Kelvin’s mind churned, the den’s presence a palpable force that set his nerves alight. Doubt gnawed at him, What if we are not strong enough? What if I have led them into a trap? but at that time he clenched his jaw and pushed it aside.

They had a mission: destroy the source of the dark magic, end the undead plague which will save the Sanctum and the villages beyond. Failure was not an option.

Into the Mire.....

Time seemed not with them as they trudged onward, the marshes grew more hostile with every step. The fog thickened into a suffocating blanket and its damp tendrils curled around them like a grasping hands.

Toxic fumes rose from bubbling pools which scattered across the landscape, the acrid scent burned their throats and made their heads swim.

The ground turned to a mire of sinking mud with each step a battle to pull free, which sapped their strength with relentless persistence.

"Watch your footing," Kelvin called back. He drove his staff into the earth, testing for solid ground, but even that felt uncertain, the marshes seemed to shift beneath them.

Darius stumbled behind him, his boot clicked on a submerged vine. He cursed under his breath, yanking himself free with a grunt.

"This place is a nightmare," he muttered, shake off the mud from his leg. Rhoam rumbled and pushed him forward with a gentle shove.

The delay cost them alot because a low moan cut through the fog, followed by the shuffle of decayed feet and shapes materialized in the mist, zombies, but not the mindless husks they had faced before.

These were different, their flesh was blackened and oozing, their eyes glowed with a sickly green light that pierced the gloom. They moved with purpose, darting through the fog with an agility that sent a chill down Kelvin’s spine.

"Form up!" he shouted as he raised his staff. Xerion snarled, flames bursting along through his mouth in a defiant roar.

The battle erupted in a short time. Kelvin swung his staff and channelled a torrent of fire that swept through the undead ranks, the heat seared the damp air.

The zombies shrieked with their decayed forms that crumbled under the assault, but more of them surged forward with their numbers increasing as the fog disgorged them.

Lyra’s hands danced, shadow runes spiraled from her gauntlet to coil around the creatures’ limbs and pinned them in place with dark tendrils. Her face was a mask of concentration, but sweat beaded on her brow, betraying the effort.

Darius fired off some soulstone blasts, each explosion lighted up the fog in bursts of white and gold, which scattered zombies in sprays of ash and bone.

Rhoam charged into the fray, his iron hide deflected the claws and teeth as he barreled through the horde like a living battering ram.

But the zombies adapted and circled them, immediately they stroked from blind spots with eerie coordination. One lunged from the mist, its claws raked across Lyra’s arm before she could react.

She cried out and stumbled back, blood flowed through her torn sleeve. "Lyra!" Kelvin’s heart lurched as fear spiked through him.

"I am fine," she muttered out, though her voice trembled. Immediately Salaris materialized beside her with a shadow-wreathed claws that tore the zombie apart in a blur of motion. "Keep fighting!"

They tightened their formation, beasts and tamers moving as one, but the onslaught wore them down. Kelvin’s arms burned with every swing, his vision became blurred at the edges.

Fatigue clawed at him, a leaden weight that dragged his limbs. We can’t keep this up, he thought and despair flickered in his chest.

Immediately through the haze, he saw it, a faint, pulsing glow in the distance that is like a heartbeat in the dark. The den. "There!" he yelled, pointing with his staff. "We are almost there!"