CHAPTER 1510: STORY 1510: THE SHARD-KNIGHT’S CHALLENGE

The night bent beneath the shard’s will. The crimson mist thickened, coiling like serpents around the battlefield, and the newly born knight strode forward. Its armor was sculpted from fused bone and shadow, each movement echoing with the grinding of stone and the groan of corpses yet to die. The blade it carried burned with living fire, a flame the color of blood.

Kael’s breath came ragged, each inhale laced with pain, yet his grip on his sword never wavered. He felt the heat of Elara’s presence at his side—fragile but unyielding. Her flame sputtered in her palm, a frail candle against the storm.

The knight halted a few paces away. For a heartbeat, silence stretched, broken only by the shard’s pulse. Then it lifted its blade in a knight’s salute, mocking in its elegance. From the phantom figure above the shard came the master’s laughter.

“Face him. Prove your strength, mortal. Break yourself against eternity’s champion.”

Kael spat into the dirt. “I’ve broken worse.”

The knight moved. Faster than shadow, its flaming sword descended, a crimson arc meant to cleave him in two. Kael met it with steel, the impact ringing like a bell struck in the heart of the forest. The shock drove him to one knee, sparks exploding as his blade scraped against the unnatural fire.

Elara thrust out her hand, releasing what little flame she had left. It burst against the knight’s back, searing bone, but the creature didn’t falter. It pivoted, backhanding her with inhuman force. She flew into a tree, the breath ripped from her lungs.

“Elara!” Kael shouted, but the knight pressed its attack, driving him back step by step. His body screamed for rest, yet instinct and fury kept him moving. He slashed, parried, and lunged, every strike meeting the knight’s crimson flame.

Then the whispers began again, seeping from the shard into Kael’s skull. Join us... yield your flesh, wield our power... together, we are infinite. His vision blurred, the weight of their voices dragging him toward surrender.

“No!” He roared, striking upward, sparks flaring as his blade carved across the knight’s chest. The wound glowed, but instead of weakening, the knight seemed to grow stronger, its form swelling as though feeding on the clash itself.

Elara staggered back into the fray, blood trailing from her temple. Her eyes burned with defiance. She lifted her trembling hand and whispered an incantation Kael had never heard before. White fire sparked weakly at first—then flared into a blazing spear.

“Kael!” she screamed, hurling it.

Kael ducked aside as the spear struck the knight square in the chest. The impact shattered its armor, exposing the shard embedded within. For a breath, the knight faltered, its crimson blade flickering.

Kael seized the opening. With a primal cry, he drove his sword through the knight’s chest, piercing the shard itself.

The creature convulsed, its scream a blend of metal, fire, and countless lost souls. The crimson blade shattered, fragments burning out into ash. The knight collapsed into dust, leaving only the shard—cracked now, its light faltering but still alive.

Kael fell to one knee, his sword buried in the earth beside him. Elara limped to his side, eyes fixed on the shard’s fractured glow.

“It’s weakening,” she whispered. “But it’s not finished.”

The shard pulsed faintly, and in its glow, Kael thought he saw the master’s silhouette again, watching... waiting.

This victory was only a delay.