CHAPTER 126: CHAPTER 126 | IN THE PRECIPICE OF DESTINY

*Back to Present

Jinn approached the edge of Zendrell’s eidra cage, his eyes scanning the crimson haze that shimmered above like flickering embers.

The barrier slowly dissipated into the air, the crimson particles drifting upward like sparks from a dying fire, and from the clearing mist, Zendrell’s towering figure came into view—still and unmoving at the center.

Jinn’s boots stepped forward, each one

*crunching

softly against the cracked and broken floor, and his eyes shifted downward.

There, sprawled in two separate parts, was the body of Jirael.

Her head lay only a short distance from her corpse, both drenched in pools of thick, black corrupted blood that soaked into the fractured stone beneath.

Zendrell didn’t move at first, but the soft crunch of Jinn’s steps made him turn.

His gaze locked with Jinn’s, serious at first—but then a familiar smirk slowly curled onto his face.

"Took you long enough," Zendrell said, his voice deep and steady.

"So you’ve defeated the bird, eh?" He yanked his massive sword from the ground with one hand,

*shnk!

the tip scraping against stone before he tossed it lazily onto his shoulder.

Zendrell’s eyes turned toward the apex of the dark tower, staring through the cracked sky.

"Their eidra..." he muttered. "I can’t feel it anymore. It’s gone. Cleansed."

He stood silent for a second, the wind carrying bits of broken ash through the air.

Then he turned, more animated than before.

"But let’s not waste any more time."

Before Jinn could even open his mouth, Zendrell stepped forward and

*grab!

wrapped an arm around his waist, lifting him clean off the ground like a sack of vegetables.

"W-What the—Hey! What are you doing!?" Jinn shouted, eyes wide with confusion as he was hoisted sideways onto Zendrell’s shoulder.

"Pipe down, kid," Zendrell snorted with a grin, stowing his sword behind his back with a

*clack!

before tightening his grip on Jinn’s legs to keep him steady.

Then without any warning, Zendrell dashed forward with explosive force,

*bang!

his boots cracking the ground beneath as he launched himself toward the wall of the tower.

*Clack! *Crack!

His fingers dug into the stone like claws, piercing through the blackened tower wall, using his handholds to pull and throw himself upward with monstrous strength.

The stone trembled from the force, small bits breaking off and falling as his ascent continued.

Jinn’s eyes widened as the wind

*whooshed! past his face.

"We’d have to reconcile you with your oh-so-beloved friends!" Zendrell barked out mid-climb, his tone amused.

Jinn’s eyes widened at Zendrell’s words, his breath catching for a moment.

"They’re here!?" he said, his voice almost louder than he meant. "Why would they—"

But his words stopped mid-sentence.

He didn’t need to finish.

Deep down, he already knew the answer.

His friends... no, his family—of course they’d come for him.

Of course they’d risk it all, no matter what stood in their way.

That was just who they were.

So Jinn kept quiet, letting the thought settle inside him like a weight, one that both comforted and terrified him.

He could only stare as the world below grew smaller and smaller, the shattered landscape shrinking into specks as they rose higher and higher along the tower wall.

The wind howled louder now,

*whoooosh!

pushing hard against them the more they climbed, whipping at their clothes and hair like invisible claws.

Loose debris rattled and fell from the broken tower above them, tumbling past into the void below.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and still Zendrell climbed, his handholds crushing into the dark stone with each pull, his body barely slowed by the tower’s impossible height.

And then, finally, they reached it.

Or what was left of it.

The apex of the tower... it wasn’t there anymore.

The structure had been torn asunder—ripped, like something massive had taken a colossal bite out of it.

The entire top portion was gone, and in its place was jagged ruin.

There was no one in sight.

At least, no one alive.

Cloaked figures dangled from shattered beams and broken edges, their bodies twisted and still.

Their robes fluttered in the wind, some hanging limp over the stone, others swaying gently like forgotten puppets.

All of them... dead.

Their skin already pale, their faces hidden under heavy hoods that drooped low.

Some were missing limbs, others scorched by what looked like pure eidra burn.

Their bodies hung by threads, barely clinging to the wreckage as if they could fall at any moment.

Jinn’s eyes narrowed.

"What happened here..." he muttered, voice low, unsettled by the eerie silence that now surrounded them.

Zendrell didn’t answer.

His gaze just roamed the ruin ahead, sharp and focused.

He could feel it too—something was wrong.

Something... was still here.

Zendrell finally let Jinn down onto a jagged section of the ruined tower apex.

The ground beneath them was uneven, cracked and sloped, but still sturdy enough to stand on.

Shards of broken stone jutted out in all directions, like the tower itself had tried to resist being destroyed.

Jinn steadied his feet, his eyes scanning the surroundings as the wind howled past them.

There was a strange stillness in the air, the kind that followed great violence.

To the left, the bodies of more cloaked figures laid scattered, their robes torn and stained dark with dried blood.

Some looked like they had been burned from the inside out, others shredded by something sharp and unforgiving.

At the center stood the remains of a shattered pillar, its base cracked and crumbling, like it once held something important.

Maybe it had.

Now it stood as nothing but a broken monument to whatever ritual had taken place.

To the right, half-covered in rubble, were strange devices—dark, twisted, and crude in design.

Some glowed faintly with dark eidra, others hummed with broken power.

They were damaged, but familiar.

Zendrell’s eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the strange machinery.

A grim expression settled on his face before he turned to Jinn.

"So I was right," he muttered, his voice low and sharp.

"They were planning to extract Muradryn from inside you."

Jinn didn’t respond at first.

The power still stirred inside him, humming gently beneath his skin.

It wasn’t as powerful as before, not anymore.

But it was present—always waiting, always watching.

A soft warmth that surged with strength when needed.

"This power within me..." Jinn finally spoke, his tone thoughtful, yet heavy.

"I need to understand it more. I need to learn what it really is."

Zendrell looked at him, eyes locking with Jinn’s.

He could see something there, deep behind his tired gaze—something that hadn’t been there before.

Ambition.

The will to grow stronger.

Not just to fight... but to understand.

To become more.

Zendrell gave a small smirk, almost proud.

"I’m sure my sister would like that," he said, slinging his massive sword behind his back once more.

"Considering you’re her apprentice, she’ll make sure you get stronger. She’s always liked teaching the stubborn ones..."

But then, his face changed.

His sharp eyes locked onto something—something subtle, something small.

A shimmer in the air, faint and rippling like a mirage.

Just off the far edge of the apex, reality itself seemed to bend ever so slightly.

Zendrell’s hand reached for his sword.

"But that’ll have to wait," he said.

With a smooth motion, he slashed his blade through the distortion.

*Crack!

His sword, blazing with crimson eidra, tore the air apart.

And with that, the faint shimmer exploded into a rippling tear in space, a jagged portal of shifting color and light.

A new realm was opening—one twisted and unstable.

Behind it... something waited.

Zendrell stepped forward, standing just before the entrance.

The swirling tear in reality pulsed with unstable light, distorted and rippling like a wound carved into the very fabric of the world.

It hissed softly, as if whispering the name of the monster that waited beyond.

He didn’t even need to say it.

They both knew who was waiting on the other side.

That presence... that darkness... it was still there.

Watching.

Waiting.

"We end this now," Zendrell said, his voice low but steady, filled with resolve that could shake mountains.

"We kill Malgareth... once and for all."

Jinn’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade.

The warmth of Muradryn still pulsed faintly inside his chest, but this time it didn’t burn like fire—it steadied him.

Grounded him.

The air around them crackled with quiet energy, as if the world itself held its breath.

The tension inside Jinn grew tighter with every heartbeat.

He could feel it in his lungs, in his spine, in the air around him.

This wasn’t over.

Not yet.

The true enemy—the one behind it all—still lived.

The final battle hadn’t even begun.

And there was no turning back now.

Without a word, both of them stepped forward.

Zendrell entered first, his entire body wrapped in a powerful crimson aura that shimmered against the broken light.

He walked straight into the tear, fearless, vanishing as the portal swallowed him whole.

Jinn followed a breath later, exhaling one last time before moving.

One foot in front of the other.

His blade hummed quietly at his side as he walked forward, every step firm, every movement certain.

The light from the portal distorted his body as he passed through, and for a brief moment, he seemed to flicker—between who he was, and who he was becoming.

A warrior.

A weapon.

A storm.

His figure dissolved into the swirling veil of energy.

*Fwooom!

The portal slammed shut behind them with a violent snap, folding space like it had never been torn open.

A crack echoed through the skies, followed by stillness.

Silence blanketed the broken tower.

Not even the wind dared to speak.

The final fight had come.

And Malgareth’s folly—his madness, his corruption, his end—was now sealed.

And it would burn.