Kar'eth Fortress - One Week After
Arden stood in the courtyard, testing his mobility.
His left arm moved properly now, though he could still feel phantom pain where it had been severed.
His left eye's vision had mostly returned—still slightly blurry at the edges, but functional.
His voice was rough, still damaged from the battle poetry that had destroyed his vocal cords.
But he was alive.
Functional.
And he had work to do.
The Witch of Moonlight. If she's where I think she is—she can fix Kari's dual soul constitution. That has to be the priority.
"You're leaving already?" Commander Thorne asked, watching Arden prepare supplies. "You've barely recovered."
"The north can't wait for me to be at one hundred percent. There are things that need to be done now."
Thorne studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"The Witch of Moonlight."
Arden paused in his packing.
"You know about her?"
"I've heard the legends. Most think she's a myth, but..." Thorne gestured at the fortress walls. "A week ago, we killed a three-hundred-year-old immortal. Myths seem a lot more real these days."
He crossed his arms, expression thoughtful.
"If she's real, if she can help strengthen the north... you have my full support. What do you need?"
"A small group. Fast and mobile. I've already asked some people."
"Good. Choose whoever you need." Thorne clasped his shoulder. "You've earned trust, Valekrest. After what you did against the Overlord? If you say there's a witch who can help us, I believe you."
"Thank you, Commander."
"Just come back alive. We've lost enough good people." Thorne's expression softened slightly. "And for what it's worth? What you're doing—pushing forward despite everything—that's real leadership. Roy would be proud."
The words hit harder than Arden expected.
He just nodded, not trusting his damaged voice.
A new voice called out: "Arden!"
Kari approached, looking determined despite the exhaustion still evident in her features.
Her left hand twitched involuntarily—one soul fighting for control.
"I heard you're going north. I'm coming with you."
"Kari, you're still—"
"Dying," she interrupted bluntly. "My condition is getting worse. If there's even a chance this witch can help, I have to try. Please."
Arden looked at her.
Saw the desperation beneath the determination.
The way both her hands occasionally spasmed—the souls warring constantly now.
This is why I suggested the journey. Kari doesn't have much time left.
"Alright. But we need to discuss something first."
He pulled her aside, along with the others who'd already volunteered.
Brick, Thrain, Rykard, Garret, Serra, and Elara gathered around.
"Before we leave, we need to establish command structure," Arden said. "I know the destination and the goal. But Kari has the best tactical mind among us."
Kari blinked. "What?"
Your a future commander it's time for that talent of yours to bloom
"You proved it against the Overlord. Your combat analysis, your ability to coordinate multiple fighters simultaneously—it's amazing."
Brick nodded immediately. "He's right. You see patterns we don't."
"But my condition—" Kari's left hand twitched again. "What if I pass out?"
"Then we pull you back," Arden said simply. "But until that happens, you call the shots in combat."
Kari looked around at the others.
Saw no objection.
Just trust.
"I... alright. I'll do my best."
"That's all we ask," Elara said with a slight smile.
Good. Setting expectations now means no confusion later. And Kari needs to know we trust her despite her condition.
"I'm still coming," Thrain announced. "Someone needs to keep things interesting."
"Interesting means 'accidentally attracting monsters,'" Rykard pointed out dryly.
"That's called scouting through unconventional methods."
"That's called being loud and stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
Brick chuckled. "I'm in. Someone needs to keep you idiots alive."
Garret approached more hesitantly.
"I... I guess I'm coming too? Though I should mention again all I'm really good at is running away."
"We know," Arden said. "You're also good at drawing attention and surviving. That's valuable."
"Is it though? Is cowardice really valuable?"
"Tactical survival instinct," Rykard corrected. "Sounds better."
"I'm still a coward."
"A useful coward," Brick rumbled. "Now stop complaining."
Serra appeared silently, her periwinkle hair catching the light.
Azure locks falling straight down her back in a simple style.
Her periwinkle-blue eyes studied the group quietly.
"I want... I want to help too," she said softly, her usual hesitation present.
"You're one of our best mages," Arden chuckled. "We'd be lucky to have you."
Serra's pale cheeks flushed slightly.
"Thank you."
Elara was last, her long black hair tied back practically.
She stood with perfect posture, her jet-black combat outfit's buttons undone except around her chest.
Cold. Sharp. Radiating competence.
Elara. She's becoming the perfect embodiment of a swordswoman. Strong, disciplined, and utterly reliable.
"Someone needs to make sure you don't lose any more body parts," she said, gesturing at his reattached arm. "I'm getting good at emergency aid, but I'd prefer not to practice."
"Fair point."
Thorne looked at the assembled group.
"Eight people heading into the most dangerous part of the north to find a witch who might not exist. Sounds about right for you people."
"We prefer 'cautiously optimistic,'" Thrain offered.
"You prefer 'suicidally confident,'" Thorne corrected. "But you've earned the right to be. Good hunting."
----
Two Days Later - The Northern Wilderness
Eight figures moved through deep snow, following Arden's lead.
Brick and Thrain broke trail together—both massive men who treated snow drifts like minor inconveniences.
Brick's heavy armor and mace strapped to his back.
Thrain's equally imposing frame carrying a great sword and wearing heavy plate.
"I'm starting to think we should have brought a sled," Thrain panted. "Or trained polar bears. Do polar bears exist here?"
"No," Serra said quietly from the middle of the formation.
"Shame. Would've been cool."
Rykard walked with characteristic laziness despite the harsh terrain.
His movements, conserving energy.
Too much work, his posture seemed to say. But I'll do it anyway.
"You just want to ride a bear," he observed about Thrain's comment.
"Who wouldn't want to ride a bear? That's just good sense."
"It's stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
Garret brought up the rear, constantly looking around nervously.
"Is it just me or does everything look threatening? That tree looks threatening. That rock looks threatening. That shadow definitely looks threatening."
"Everything is threatening," Kari said from near the front. "That's why we're in formation. Brick and Thrain forward as tanks, Rykard and Elara on flanks, Serra center for ranged support, Garret rear as mobile scout, Arden and I coordinating."
Her voice was steady despite her hands occasionally twitching.
Both souls briefly unified in tactical analysis.
"See?" Arden said. "This is why Kari calls the shots in combat."
"It's just basic formation theory," Kari protested.
"Basic for you," Brick rumbled. "Genius for the rest of us."
She's better at this than she realizes.
Elara walked beside Arden, occasionally checking his condition with subtle glances.
"How's the arm?"
"Fine. Stops hurting after the first hour of walking."
"And the eye?"
"Peripheral vision is still fuzzy, but getting better."
"Good. Try not to get any more limbs cut off."
"I'll add it to my to-do list."
Serra moved up alongside them, her ice-blue eyes scanning the treeline.
"The temperature... it's dropping faster than it should," she said quietly. "Something's affecting the weather patterns."
Sharp observation. She notices things others miss.
"Magic?" Arden asked.
"Maybe. Or we're getting closer to something powerful enough to alter the environment naturally."
"The witch?"
"Perhaps."
They traveled like that for hours, the banter helping distract from the harsh conditions.
As the sun began setting, they made camp in a small clearing.
Rykard and Elara set up the tents with efficient movements—no wasted energy.
Thrain and Brick gathered firewood, competing to see who could carry more.
Serra disappeared into the trees and returned twenty minutes later with three rabbits, frozen solid by ice magic.
"Dinner," she announced quietly.
"You're terrifying," Garret said admiringly. "I didn't even hear you cast."
"That's... that's the point," Serra said
As they ate, the conversation turned to their destination.
"So tell us about this witch," Brick said. "What do we know?"
Arden organized his thoughts, choosing his words carefully.
"She's called the Witch of Moonlight. According to legends, she's lived in the Shadowpeak Mountains for over five hundred years. Master of ancient magic—particularly mana manipulation and soul-based techniques."
"Soul-based," Kari repeated, hope clear in her voice despite her trembling hands. "That's why you think she can help me."
"If anyone can fix a dual soul constitution, it's her. The legends specifically mention her expertise with soul manipulation—separating, merging, stabilizing."
I wrote her with that ability specifically for plot reasons. Never thought I'd actually need it.
"But why would she help us?" Elara asked. "Five hundred years of isolation suggests she doesn't like visitors."
"She doesn't hate them," Arden corrected. "The legends suggest she's isolated by choice, but curious about the world. We offer her something valuable—news, stories, information she can't get alone."
"So we're bribing an ancient witch with gossip?" Thrain asked.
"Essentially."
"I love it. What kind of gossip do ancient witches like?"
"Major events, magical developments, that sort of thing," Arden said. "Not your love life."
Actually maybe she would be interested in that sort of thing
"My love life is a major event, I'll have you know."
"To you, maybe."
Everyone laughed.
"How troublesome," Rykard muttered. "We're walking into a death trap and you're all joking."
"Better than crying," Thrain pointed out.
"I suppose. Still troublesome though."
Garret leaned forward nervously. "But seriously, what if she's hostile? I'm good at running away, but there's nowhere to run in mountains."
"Then you run downhill very fast," Brick suggested.
"That's just falling with style!"
More laughter.
Kari's hands spasmed suddenly
She clenched them into fists, forcing them still through sheer willpower.
"You alright?" Arden asked.
"Yeah. I'll be okay." Kari smiled weakly.
Serra suddenly tensed, ice already forming around her hands.
"Movement. Northeast."
Everyone went quiet.
Weapons drawn.
Listening.
For a moment—silence.
Then—rustling in the underbrush.
A direwolf emerged from the trees.
Then another.
And another.
Twelve in total, circling their camp.
Each one eight feet long, eyes glowing with corrupted mana.
Fur matted with ice and dried blood.
"Well," Garret said, his voice shaking. "This is unfortunate. Very unfortunate. Maybe they're friendly?"
"They're not friendly," Rykard said flatly.
"I was trying to be optimistic!"
"Stop being optimistic and get ready to run if needed."
"NOW you're speaking my language!"
The largest wolf—the alpha—growled deep in its chest.
The sound vibrating through the air.
Kari stepped forward, her demeanor changing instantly.
Both souls momentarily unified by immediate threat.
"Formation Delta-Three," she ordered, her voice sharp and clear. "Brick, Thrain—front line, four meters apart, staggered stance. Elara—left flank, three meters from Brick. Rykard—right flank, same distance from Thrain. Serra—center elevated position, that outcropping. Garret—mobile reserve, northeast tree line as escape route if needed. Arden—center with me."
Everyone moved without question.
Her analysis was that good.
"They'll test the front line first," Kari continued, her eyes tracking each wolf with perfect focus. "Alpha will feint center, then redirect to whichever flank shows weakness. Standard pack tactics, but these are corrupted—War Essence makes them smarter and more coordinated."
Seems like this was the right choice her talent is already blooming.
"How do you want to counter?" Arden asked.
"Let them commit to the feint. When the alpha redirects, Serra freezes its legs—ice is more effective than trying to kill it directly. I'll support with water manipulation to bind it completely. Garret, if anything breaks through, you draw it away from Serra. Your job is survival, not victory."
"I can do that!" Garret said, relief clear in his voice. "Surviving is my specialty!"
"Brick, Thrain—you're the anvil. Hold the line, don't pursue. Elara, Rykard—you're the hammer. Take targets of opportunity but maintain spacing."
Her left hand twitched violently.
But she forced it still, both hands clenching until her knuckles went white.
"Now," she said calmly. "They're about to attack."
The alpha howled.
And the pack attacked.
Three wolves rushed Brick simultaneously, exactly as Kari predicted.
He met the first with his mace, the weapon crushing through its skull with a sickening crunch.
Bone fragments and brain matter sprayed across white snow, steaming in the cold air.
The impact sound was wet and terrible—like smashing a melon with a sledgehammer.
The second leapt at his throat, jaws wide enough to bite through armor—
Brick caught it mid-air with his free hand, fingers digging into corrupted flesh.
The wolf thrashed, claws raking across his armored forearm with ear-splitting shrieks of metal on metal.
Brick didn't even flinch.
Just squeezed harder, feeling bones crack and splinter beneath his grip.
Then threw it into the third wolf with enough force that both went tumbling fifteen feet across the snow.
"TOO SLOW!" Brick roared, his Integration flaring.
Mana reinforced his body, making him immovable as a mountain.
His feet sank two inches into the frozen ground, anchoring him.
The two surviving wolves recovered, circling warily now.
They'd learned—this prey was dangerous.
They attacked together, trying to flank him from opposite sides.
Brick's mace swung in a wide arc, enhanced by his trait that made the air itself scream.
The first wolf tried to dodge—
Too slow.
The mace caught it in the ribs with a wet, pulverizing crunch.
The impact lifted the creature off its feet, ribs caving inward like crushed pottery, puncturing lungs and heart.
Blood erupted from its mouth and nose as internal organs ruptured.
It landed ten feet away, twitching and coughing crimson foam.
The second wolf used its packmate's sacrifice to get inside Brick's guard—
He dropped his mace and caught the wolf by its throat with both hands.
Lifted it off the ground as it thrashed and clawed desperately.
Its claws scored deep gouges in his armor but couldn't penetrate.
Then Brick slammed it down with apocalyptic force.
The ground cratered beneath them, snow exploding outward.
The wolf's spine shattered on impact, vertebrae separating with audible pops.
Its back legs stopped moving instantly, neural connection severed.
It whimpered once—a pathetic, broken sound—then went still.
Thrain faced two wolves with his great sword, movements powerful but controlled.
The first lunged low, trying to hamstring him—
He brought his sword down in a crushing overhead strike.
The blade split the wolf's skull down to its shoulders.
Brain matter and bone fragments scattered.
He wrenched the blade free with a twist, blood spraying in a wide arc.
The second wolf tried to flank while he was occupied—
Thrain pivoted with surprising speed for someone his size, bringing his sword around in a horizontal slash.
The blade caught the wolf mid-leap, bisecting it at the waist.
Both halves fell separately, intestines unspooling between them.
"That's disgusting," Thrain muttered, already scanning for the next threat.
Rykard fought with his lazy demeanor hiding exceptional skill.
Too troublesome to waste energy, his movements seemed to say.
Three wolves tried to overwhelm him through numbers.
The first lunged—
Rykard sidestepped with minimal movement, his first blade opening its throat in passing.
Blood arterial-sprayed across the snow in a beautiful, terrible crimson arc.
The wolf took three more steps before its brain registered death, then collapsed.
The second attacked from his blind spot—
Rykard second sword had already moved, his blade meeting it with perfect timing.
Telekinetic ability guiding his sword with supernatural precision.
The blade punched through the wolf's eye socket, through the brain, and out the back of its skull.
He didn't even look at it, already tracking the third wolf.
"How troublesome," he muttered, pulling his blade free.
The third wolf hesitated, seeing its packmates die so efficiently.
Then charged anyway—pack instinct overriding survival.
Rykard's blade moved in a lazy arc.
But the telekinesis accelerated it at the last moment, turning a casual swing into a killing strike.
The wolf's head separated cleanly from its body, both parts continuing forward for a moment before gravity claimed them.
"Three down. Such a bother," Rykard said, already looking bored.
Elara faced two wolves with her twin swords, movements sharp and precise.
The first wolf lunged, jaws wide—
She stepped inside its reach, both blades carving upward in a cross pattern.
Four cuts opened simultaneously—throat, chest, and both shoulders.
The wolf's head separated from its body mid-leap, momentum carrying both parts forward.
The headless body crashed into her, carried by physics.
She twisted with minimal effort, letting it slide past like water around a stone.
Already moving to the next target.
The second wolf tried to take advantage of her apparent distraction—
She spun, one blade deflecting its jaws in a shower of sparks as teeth met steel.
The sound like a sword being sharpened at high speed.
Her other blade opened its belly in the same motion, a single perfect cut.
Corrupted entrails spilled onto the snow, steaming in the cold air.
The wolf tried to bite even as its organs fell out, operating on pure aggression.
Elara's blade found its brain through the eye socket before it could close its jaws.
"Disgusting," she said coldly, already moving to intercept another wolf heading for the rear.
Garret was living up to his role as mobile bait.
A wolf had broken through, heading for Serra.
"OH GODS OH GODS OH GODS!" Garret screamed, running at his award-winning speed.
The wolf chased him, abandoning Serra completely.
"HELP ME!" Garret continued yelling while running in a wide circle.
"DOING MY JOB THOUGH! STILL DOING MY JOB!"
"You're doing great!" Arden called out, unable to help a smile.
"I'M TERRIFIED!"
"That's okay!"
The wolf finally caught up—
Rykard's telekinetically-guided sword took its head off from thirty feet away.
"You can stop running now," Rykard said.
Garret collapsed in the snow, panting.
"Worst. Day. Ever. Never. Doing. This. Again."
Serra stood perfectly still on her elevated position, hands moving in precise patterns.
Ice magic formed —just pure visualization and mana control.
Thwick.
First wolf—ice spear through the left eye, into the brain. Dead before it hit the ground, body freezing solid.
Thwick.
Second wolf—ice shard through the ear canal, through the brain. Dead mid-leap, body crystallizing mid-air.
Thwick.
Third wolf—ice lance through the open mouth as it howled, through the soft palate, into the brain. Dead while the howl still echoed, frozen in place like a gruesome statue.
Three wolves, three seconds, three perfect kills.
Each shot placed with surgical precision in the only spots that guaranteed instant death.
No wasted mana.
No mercy.
"You're scary when you're focused," Thrain called out.
Serra didn't respond, just continued casting.
Her periwinkle eyes cold and calculating behind her azure hair.
The alpha finally engaged, having watched its pack die.
It had learned.
Adapted.
Feinted toward Brick—
Then changed direction mid-leap with impossible agility, targeting Arden directly.
"NOW!" Kari commanded
Her water Integration flared—both hands moving in mirror patterns despite their usual conflict.
Moisture in the air crystallized instantly, forming chains of liquid that flash-froze into ice.
The chains wrapped around the alpha's hind legs mid-leap.
The alpha crashed to the ground three feet from Arden, snarling and thrashing with desperate fury.
One chain cracked immediately—the alpha's strength was incredible.
"Serra!" Kari called, sweat beading on her forehead from controlling two magical patterns simultaneously.
Thwick.
Arrow of pure ice—not physical, just frozen mana—through the alpha's left eye.
But not deep enough. The skull was too thick
The alpha roared in pain and fury, thrashing harder against the ice restraints.
Another chain shattered.
"HOLD!" Kari commanded, her water mana surging.
More ice formed, thicker chains, stronger bonds.
Both her hands working now despite the souls screaming at each other—pure survival instinct forcing cooperation.
The alpha's incredible strength shattered a third chain.
It was breaking free.
"BRICK!" Kari shouted, voice cracking.
Brick's mace descended like divine judgment.
The impact drove the alpha into the ground, snow exploding outward in a white crater ten feet across.
Its spine shattered under the force, vertebrae pulverized into dust.
But it still lived—corrupted mana sustaining it beyond any natural limit.
Tried to bite Brick's leg even with its back broken, jaw snapping with mechanical persistence.
Elara's blade took its remaining eye in one precise thrust.
Rykard's telekinetically-guided sword punched through its skull from the other side, the two blades meeting inside the brain.
The alpha convulsed once.
Twice.
Then went still, corruption fading from its eyes as death finally claimed it.
Silence fell.
Twelve direwolves lay dead around their camp.
Everyone breathing hard but uninjured.
"Casualty report," Kari said automatically, her commander voice already fading as the souls began arguing again. Her left hand spasmed violently. "Zero casualties. Equipment damage: Rykard's blade chipped, Brick's armor scored. Efficiency rating: acceptable."
"Acceptable?" Thrain asked, looking at the carnage. "That was perfect!"
"Perfect would be no equipment damage and lower mana expenditure," Kari said, both souls speaking in unsettling unison. "Acceptable means mission success within parameters."
Despite the criticism, everyone was grinning.
She's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant at this.
"That was a warm-up," Kari added, her voice now discordant. "The mountains... will be worse. Much worse."
"Comforting," Garret wheezed from where he still lay in the snow. "Really comforting. Can I quit?"
"No," everyone said simultaneously.
"Worth asking."
"We should move camp," Serra suggested quietly, ice already dissipating from her hands. "The blood will attract more. And stronger."
"Agreed," Brick said. "Pack up. Higher ground, better defensive position."
As they relocated, Thrain struck up conversation again.
"So, Arden. This witch. Is she pretty?"
"What?"
"The Witch of Moonlight. Ancient, powerful, probably beautiful in that terrifying way ancient magical beings are. Is she pretty?"
Oh for the love of—
"I have no idea. I've never met her."
"But you've read about her. Descriptions?"
Arden sighed. "The legends mention she has unusual hair—white that fades to crimson. And supposedly her presence is... overwhelming."
"Overwhelming how?" Elara asked, her cold demeanor cracking slightly with curiosity.
"Like reality bends around her. Like everyone else becomes background noise when she's present."
"Definitely pretty then," Thrain concluded. "Terrifying women are always beautiful. It's a law of nature."
"That's not a law of nature," Rykard protested lazily.
"It absolutely is. Name one terrifying woman who isn't attractive."
"Your mother."
Everyone burst out laughing, including Thrain.
"Fair point. Fair point."
They made new camp an hour's travel away, on a rocky outcropping that provided better defensive position.
As they settled in for the night, Brick took first watch.
"Get some sleep," he rumbled. "Three more days to the Shadowpeak Mountains. We'll need our strength."
Arden lay in his tent, listening to the others settle down.
Thrain and Rykard still bantering quietly.
Serra humming something soft and melancholy—a sad, beautiful sound.
Kari's breathing uneven, her limbs occasionally twitching even in her sleep.
Garret muttering about "never doing that again" and "why did I volunteer."
We're going to make it. We're going to find her. Fix Kari. And everything changes.
----
Day Three - Approaching Shadowpeak
The terrain grew harsher with each mile.
Snow deeper, wind colder, the air itself feeling wrong.
"I hate mountains," Garret announced. "Why do important things always happen in mountains? Why can't ancient witches live on beaches?"
"Because beaches don't have dramatic atmosphere," Rykard replied, sounding bored.
"Dramatic atmosphere is overrated. I want dramatic warmth."
"Stop complaining," Brick called back. "Builds character."
"I have enough character! I want comfort!"
Despite the harsh conditions, the group's morale remained high.
They'd fought together, traveled together, survived together.
Become a unit.
That evening, as they made camp, Elara pulled Arden aside.
Her cold, sharp demeanor softening slightly.
"You're confident we'll find her."
"Yes."
"Not hopeful. Confident. There's a difference."
Arden met her eyes—the closest thing he had to a mentor figure in this timeline.
"I'm confident because I have to be. The north needs this. Kari needs this. If I doubt, everyone else will too."
Elara studied him for a long moment with those sharp eyes.
Then smiled slightly—a rare expression from her.
"You've changed. Since I first met you. More... certain. Like you know exactly where you're going."
"Maybe I do."
"Good. Because the rest of us are following you."
---
Day Five - The Shadowpeak Mountains
The entrance appeared exactly where Arden knew it would be.
A massive cave opening, almost perfectly circular.
Runes carved around the edges, glowing faintly with ancient power.
"That's it," Arden said. "That's where she is."
Everyone stared at the entrance.
"It's beautiful," Kari whispered, momentarily unified by awe. "Terrifying, but beautiful."
"Like a terrifying woman," Thrain said. "Told you."
Even Rykard didn't argue this time.
Just muttered "how troublesome" under his breath.
"I'm going in alone," Arden announced.
"Absolutely—" Brick started to protest, but Arden raised his hand.
"She won't talk to a group. Too threatening. I need to approach alone, show I'm not here to attack. That I'm seeking knowledge, not conquest."
"And if she's hostile?" Elara asked, worry clear in her normally cold voice.
"Then you'll hear screaming and can decide whether to rescue me or run."
"I vote run," Garret said immediately. "Just putting that out there."
"Noted," Arden said dryly.
Brick stepped forward, placing a huge hand on Arden's shoulder.
"You've earned trust, Arden. If you say this is how it needs to be, we believe you." He squeezed gently. "But if you're not back in two hours, we're coming in."
"Fair enough."
Kari approached, both hands twitching violently now—the souls fighting harder as stress mounted.
"If you meet her... if she can help... please." Her voice cracked.
"I'll make it work," Arden promised. "That's why we came. That's why I suggested this journey."
Serra pressed something into his hand—a small charm made of ice that wouldn't melt.
"For... for luck," she whispered, her periwinkle eyes sincere.
"Thank you."
He looked at each of them.
His team.
His friends.
"Wait here. Keep the fire going. I'll be back soon. Hopefully with good news."
And hopefully the Witch is everything I know her to be.
Arden entered the cave alone.
The darkness swallowing him like a living thing.
Runes providing just enough light to see.
He walked for what felt like hours, following the passage down.
Always down.
Into the heart of the mountain.
The air growing warmer despite the depth.
Magic saturating everything, making his skin tingle.
This is it. The moment I meet one of my own characters face to face.
Finally, the passage opened into a massive chamber.
And there—
A figure stood in the center.
Wreathed in moonlight that had no earthly source.
She was breathtaking in a way that transcended mere beauty.
Voluptuous in a manner that seemed almost divine—narrow waist flowing into wide, feminine hips.
Large breasts that somehow seemed perfectly proportioned rather than excessive.
A figure that spoke of ancient fertility goddesses and primal power.
Her presence made the very concept of physical attraction feel inadequate.
Long, thick hair cascaded down her back—pure white at the roots, gradually darkening through shades of pink until it became deep crimson at the tips.
Like moonlight bleeding into sunset.
Like snow stained with blood.
Deep carmine eyes with a rosy gradient on the lower half studied him with ancient intelligence.
Eyes that had seen centuries pass.
That held knowledge mortals weren't meant to possess.
Her presence was overwhelming.
Not oppressive, not threatening.
Just... absolute.
Like reality bent around her, making everything else seem like background noise.
Like she was the only thing in focus while the rest of the world blurred into irrelevance.
She wore flowing robes that suggested rather than revealed her figure, but somehow that made her more striking.
More present.
More real than anything around her.
She looked exactly as he'd imagined her.
Exactly as he'd described her on the page.
But more.
So much more.
Words could never capture the sheer presence of her.
The weight of her existence pressing against reality itself.
She turned to face him fully.
Those impossible eyes studying him with curiosity and calculation and something almost like amusement.
And when she spoke, her voice carried the weight of centuries—
Melodious but powerful.
Like music played at volumes that should hurt but instead captivated completely.
"So. A visitor. After all these years, someone actually finds me."
She smiled—sharp and dangerous and genuinely interested.
Took a single step closer, and the air itself seemed to ripple around her.
Reality bending just slightly to accommodate her movement.
"Tell me, little mortal. What brings you to the domain of—"