The shattered silence of the temple lingered like smoke. Shadows clung to the fractured pillars and scorched walls, but the worst of the dark magic had faded. Tessara steadied herself, supported by Zera, while Laverna turned toward the cultist's broken body.
The man still lived. Barely.
Blood oozed from his mouth as he laughed softly. "You fools... You think this victory matters? Tristan already rules the West."
Shin stepped forward, his eyes locked on the dying cultist. "Speak."
The cultist coughed, black ichor staining his lips. "From the Spine of Kharzad to the Coral Tombs, he has crowned himself with the Falzath's blessing. Kingdoms bow to him, not from fear... but from faith."
Tessara flinched. "They worship him?"
"They revere him," the cultist wheezed. "He forged a pact. Not with demons. With a god... the Eclipsing Flame."
Shin's patience is wearing thin. "Who is the Eclipsing Flame?! Tell me!"
The cultist chuckled, then coughed as he struggles to speak but uttered the name. "Voryn."
Laverna scowled. "That name again. We heard it in the southern ruins."
Zera's voice hardened. "And in the mountain archives. It's real."
The cultist continued, his voice dimming. "Only Valeshroud remains untouched. His darkness spreads with the Falzath... not beasts, not mindless corruption. Enforcers. Heralds. Priests in obsidian robes."
Shin clenched his fist. His crystal orb pulsed behind him, responding to his fury.
"He sees through the crests," the cultist whispered. "Yours too, little fox. You burn bright... but not unseen."
A wave of static jolted through Shin's spine. His knees buckled, only for Laverna to catch him by the arm.
"Hey. Stay with us."
He gritted his teeth. His crest blazed hot beneath his skin, veins glowing faintly. It wasn't pain. It was a pull. As if something immense was watching, demanding.
Tessara gasped. "Your crest... It's strained. He wasn't lying."
Zera stepped closer, worry flickering in her eyes. "You need to rest."
But Shin shook his head. "I can't. Not now."
A sudden hum filled the chamber. The stone beneath their feet shimmered, and a ring of lunar glyphs ignited beneath Shin. His eyes were glazed with silver.
"It's Tsukuyomi," Tessara whispered. "She's calling."
The others stepped back as Shin's form went still. Light swirled around him. A vision took him.
He stood not in the temple, but in the heart of a ruined throne room. Ash blanketed every surface. Blackened banners bearing King Tristan's sigil, a crown split by flame, hung from broken pillars. The sky above was a dying ember, red and choked with smoke.
Thrones lined the walls, all empty save one. On the center seat sat Tristan.
His once-regal features had warped. Pale skin stretched over an angular frame, veins of fire lacing his limbs. His eyes glowed like twin furnaces, and his right arm pulsed with Falzath's mark—an ever-shifting knot of darkness and heat.
Around him stood the Falzath priests. Each cloaked in black, faces hidden, crests branded into their flesh. They chanted in a guttural tongue, and every word fed the flames surrounding the court.
Beside King Tristan is Queen Mariam, dressed in greed and malice. She is no longer the benevolent queen, but the Queen of Darkness beside the King of Laginaple, no, the King of the Western Continent.
"This is his court now," a voice echoed beside Shin. Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto.
He turned to see her, not as a goddess, but a woman cloaked in moonlight. Her expression was grim.
Shin knelt in her presence, feeling overwhelmed by the moon goddess talking to him through the vision. "My goddess, I am humbled in your presence, my lady. I do not deserve your kindness.".
She helped him up, smiling as she shook her head. Shin understood that this was no time for his honorifics and grand gestures, for the situation was dire.
"The Western Continent has fallen. Cities have not just surrendered. They worship him as a divine king.". She warned.
"Why show me this?" Shin asked.
"Because you are his opposite," she said. "He thrives in obedience. You inspire loyalty. Where he takes by force, you lead by trust. But that is also why he fears you."
Shin looked again at the court. The ash, the chanting, the veiled servants. He remembers what he said at the Harvest Festival, now a distant memory. Shin asked. "How do we stop him?"
"You don't. Not yet. But chase the Ebon Veil. Their leader flees to Kharzad. He carries the next piece."
After she said her piece, the vision began to crumble. She smiled, her voice a whisper. "The heavens are watching, young one. Continue your path. We're always with you."
Light flared.
Shin gasped and fell to his knees, the vision fading. Tessara reached him first.
"What did you see?" she asked softly.
"Tristan sits on an ashen throne," he said, breathing hard. "He's changed. More than corrupted. He's become something else."
Laverna gritted her teeth. "And people still worship him?"
"Like a god," Shin confirmed. "He doesn't just conquer. He converts."
Zera's hands flexed around her blade. "Where do we go now?"
Shin looked at the cultist. The man was gone. Only his robes remained, the ichor dissolving into smoke. A single black feather was left behind.
Tessara picked it up. "That symbol... It's Kharzadi."
Laverna moved to the temple entrance. The winds howled outside. Her hair whipped behind her as she extended her hand. Magic spiraled upward. Wind formed a disc beneath their feet.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she said. "Let's hunt him."
Zera stepped beside her. "Together."
Tessara joined, her crest still glowing faintly. "For the continent."
Shin stood last. His body ached, his crest still burned, but the weight on his shoulders felt lighter.
He was no longer carrying it alone.
The wind lifted them, spiraling upward through the broken ceiling. The ruins fell away beneath them. A crescent moon rose over the eastern horizon, casting silver light on the shattered temple.
They flew toward Kharzad, the last bastion before the true darkness.
And behind them, in the silence of the temple, the black feather turned to ash.
Tristan had risen.
But so had they.