CHAPTER 157: DREADS OF THE JOURNEY

The Veilscarred Plains seemed endless, a wasteland that is filled with dirt and fractured stones. Yet when the Crest passed through the ridge at the dawn of the eighth day, they saw the Necrotic Forest stretching before them like a wound in the land.

Kelvin paused at the ridge’s edge, with his hand unconsciously brushing the hilt of Xerion, whose form rested in its dormant glaive-shape that across his back. The blade vibrated faintly, almost like a beast’s growl that is caught in steel.

"I don’t like the feel of this," Darius muttered, with his voice that was thick. His broad frame was silhouetted against the ashen sky, warhammer slung across his shoulder.

Lyra stood a step ahead of both of them with her dark eyes scanning the narrow path. Salaris circled high above, with its trailing black feathers that shimmered with shadow-light. "It is not just death," she said. "It is feeding. Look at those fissures. They pulse like hearts."

The glow from the cracks did throb in rhythm, a sickly cadence that unsettled even the air. Kelvin’s gut clenched. He had seen Veil corruption before, back when the outbreak swept across Valebreach years ago.

That was the night he lost his parents, the night he swore never to let the dead claim more lives while he still drew breath. But this, this was worse, stronger and hungrier.

Xerion hissed in his mind, a guttural rasp that was not a quite language but it was close enough for Kelvin to understand: Be steady and do not falter. Fear feeds them more than blood.

He exhaled, steadying. "We will go in together. Same formations as the plains." Rhoam padded forward, the armored panther’s thick plates etched with faint runes that glowed blue when catching the fissure-light.

It gave a low growl, its gaze was locked on the forest’s heart. Darius ruffled its plated mane. "Rhoam felt uneasy and that alone is enough to tell me this won’t be easy."

"Nothing ever is," Lyra said. She gave a thin smile that is bitter and sharp. "We will carve our way through like always."

With that, they descended into the trees. The air shifted as soon as they crossed into the tree line. The world grew heavier, as though the forest pressed against their skin.

The trunks were wide and ancient, but they twisted unnaturally, their branches were bending into claw-like shapes that seemed to reach for the intruders. The soil was soft and damp with a strange black ichor that seeped from the roots.

Every step they took was muffled, yet every sound echoed too far—Rhoam’s padded paws echoed like drums, Salaris’s wingbeats lingered like whispers, and Kelvin’s breath came back to him threefold, as if the forest wanted to remind him he was not alone.

"This feels like walking into a throat," Darius muttered, with his hammer ready at his side. Lyra touched one of the fissures splitting across the path.

The veils energy shimmered along her glove, burning faintly before she pulled back. "Be careful. These are not dormant cracks. They are feeding straight from the Hollow."

"What does that mean?" Kelvin asked. "It means that if we break them wrongly, they will vomit necrotic energy all over us."

As if in answer, one fissure suddenly widened beneath their boots with a sharp crack. The ground trembled, glowing brighter.

"Move!" Kelvin barked. Immediately they leapt aside as the fissure split wider, spewing green mist into the air. The stench was disgusting, like a rot and burning metal fused into one. Blackened soil that hissed as if it is alive.

Rhoam snarled, with claws digging into the ground. Salaris screeched above as its feathers was bristling. Kelvin cursed. "That was not natural, the forest is forcing them open."

The fissure’s glow was intensified, tendrils of green lightning was crackling across the forest floor. Symbols were carved into their armor that was flickered and the rune-seals that bound beast and tamer to protection.

Kelvin felt the warmth of his shoulder guard as it faltered, while the rune-lines was fading. At that moment he was panicked because if the seals broke entirely, they would be vulnerable to corruption.

"It is eating at our runes," Lyra snapped, inspecting her vambrace as the shadow-threaded markings flickered out.

Immediately Darius screamed, "Damnation." Immediately he pulled a small sealing gem from his pouch, but the glow sputtered and died in his hand. "Even the stones won’t hold here."

Kelvin fumbled at his pack and pulled free Mealin’s Tome, the artifact they had recovered weeks earlier. Its cover writhed faintly and the runes were upon it glowing faint silver. The tome thrummed as though it was recognizing the danger.

"Mealin’s work can reseal them," Kelvin said, while flipping pages with urgency. "But it is needs time, so someone will have to guard while I bind."

"Guard duty I can do." Darius hefted his hammer, planting his boots like a wall. Rhoam growled in agreement, with his armored tail lashing.

"Then hurry," Lyra said, her a voice that is sharper than ever. Salaris landed beside her, with her wings flaring, its gaze darting into the trees. "Because the forest just woke something up." Kelvin’s stomach dropped as the first moan echoed through the mist.

From the fissure’s glow, shapes began to rise, shapes that they can’t explain.....

They staggered upright, their forms was humanoid yet ruined. Limbs were bent the wrong way. Chests caved inward, ribs glowed faintly with green like lanterns. Flesh sloughed from bones that clung with stubborn threads of sinew. Their eyes were black pits with embers at the core.

Kelvin’s pulse raced. He had fought zombies before but these were worse. They were stronger and infused with the Hollow’s power, their every movement was pulsed in rhythm with the fissure’s beat.

"Here they come," Darius growled. The first Shambler lurched forward, with its jaw distending far wider than natural. Rhoam lunged, armored bulk that was colliding with it in a crash that sent bone shards flying.

But two more staggered out of the fissure behind it and before they could understand what is going on, they are five and then more.

Lyra’s daggers flashed into her hands. "We will hold them until the runes are sealed. No mistakes please." Kelvin knelt, planting Mealin’s Tome against the fissure’s edge.

His fingers flew across the glyphs, chanting under his breath. The tome drank the fissure’s light, symbols that were flaring silver as they tried to stitch shut the glowing cracks. But the Shamblers kept coming.

Darius met them head-on with hammer swinging in wide arcs. Each blow shattered skulls and splintered glowing ribs, the force reverberated through the ground.

Rhoam fought at his side, its plated body slammed through corpses with crushing force and tail sweeping like a mace.

Lyra danced through the shadows, her daggers were carving precise lines. Each slice severed tendons, each thrust pierced cores of Veil energy that glowed faint in chests.

Salaris shrieked above, while releasing bursts of shadow-feathers that pinned Shamblers in cages of black light, giving Lyra time to finish them.

Yet they kept rising. For every one they felled, another clawed out of the fissure. "Kelvin!" Darius called, while crushing another skull. "How long?" he asked.

"Almost " Kelvin grit his teeth as silver light surged through the tome, burning into the fissure’s glow. "Just hold on please!" he said.

One Shambler broke through, charging at Kelvin directly. Its jaw split sideways and two rows of jagged teeth were snapping. Xerion’s hiss roared in his mind: Move!

Kelvin jerked aside as claws scraped his arm, drawing blood. He lashed back instinctively, Xerion flashed into blade form with a growl that was more like beast than steel. The glaive pierced the Shambler’s chest, incinerating the green glow within.

The corpse writhed, then collapsed. Kelvin pulled the blade free, with the heart hammering. Xerion pulsed in his grip. Stay alive and finish the seal. The fissure screamed, while light kept flaring violently as the tome drank deeper.

The fissure’s glow flared brighter, while bathing the clearing in a sickly green light. The ground pulsed like a heartbeat, sending waves of pressure through the soil that rattled their bones. The air itself seemed to scream, the moans of the dead blended into one endless route.

Kelvin pressed harder against Mealin’s Tome with his fingers burning as the pages writhed beneath his touch. Silver runes clawed their way into the fissure, trying to stitch its raw edges shut. The tome felt alive, its hum merged with Xerion’s growl inside his skull.

"Hold steady," he muttered, sweat is dripping into his eyes. "Just a little longer..."

But the fissure was not closing quietly. It fought back. Dark tendrils erupted outward with the shadow-thin yet sharp enough to slice through bark and stone.

Immediately one lanced toward Kelvin’s chest, but Xerion’s voice shrieked in his mind, move Left! and he instantly rolled aside, the tendril stabbed into the earth where he had knelt.

The Shambler horde grew larger than their initial number. They clawed their way out of fissure-light like puppets tugged on strings.