Immortal Tyrant

The ash settled in the faint breeze, a stark reminder of the battle's end. Ryxar stood motionless, his crimson eyes scanning the fractured relic. The air hummed with residual energy, charged with the relic's ancient power.

Behind him, the woman lingered, her breaths uneven. Her gaze darted between the blackened ground and Ryxar's commanding figure.

"That creature," she began, her voice trembling, "it wasn't just some beast."

"No," Ryxar replied, his tone steady and cold. "It was a guardian—a remnant of ancient power bound to the relic."

Her brow furrowed as unease curled in her stomach. "A guardian for what? Why did it attack us?"

Ryxar's gaze never left the relic. "Attack? No, it was testing me. This place doesn't suffer the weak. Power must be earned. Failure means death."

He stepped forward, his hand outstretched toward the relic. The shard embedded in his palm pulsed violently, resonating with the runes carved into the stone. The air grew dense, heavy with an oppressive force that made the woman's knees buckle.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice laced with fear.

"Taking what's mine," Ryxar replied, his voice calm but charged with determination.

The relic's runes flared, spiraling in intricate patterns. A surge of crimson light enveloped Ryxar, flowing through his body like molten fire. He grimaced but didn't waver, even as veins of dark energy crawled up his arm.

The woman shielded her eyes from the blinding light. "Ryxar, stop! It's going to—"

Her words were cut short as the runes converged into a single point. A deafening crack split the air, and a burst of energy knocked Ryxar back. He caught himself before falling, his hand clutching the shard embedded in his palm, now glowing with an otherworldly brilliance.

"Ryxar!" she cried, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine," he said sharply, brushing her off as he straightened. His aura flickered, then surged, crimson light spilling from his body.

The woman stepped back, her fear mingling with awe. "What just happened? What…what is that power?"

Ryxar stared at his hand, flexing his fingers as the energy coursed through him. "The shard has accepted me. This power… it's only the beginning."

---

The relic's glow dimmed, its purpose fulfilled. The clearing grew eerily silent, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. Ryxar turned to the woman, his crimson eyes gleaming with renewed intensity.

"We're leaving," he said simply.

She hesitated. "What was that power? What does it mean?"

"It means the first barrier has fallen," he replied, his voice cold and certain. "The shard is one piece of a greater whole. There are others out there, waiting to be claimed. Each will bring me closer to what I must become."

"And me?" she asked softly. "What happens to me in all this?"

Ryxar paused, his gaze piercing. "You survived. That's more than most can say. But survival isn't enough. If you want to keep up, you'll need to grow stronger."

His words cut through her like a blade, harsh yet undeniable. She clenched her fists, her mind swirling with memories of helplessness, of times when her fate had been in others' hands. She wouldn't let that happen again.

"I will," she said firmly, her voice steady. "I'll grow stronger. I'll prove I belong here."

A faint smirk touched his lips, but he said nothing. He turned and began walking, his footsteps steady and unrelenting.

---

As they exited the gorge, the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the landscape in fiery hues. The woman quickened her pace to match his, her thoughts racing.

"What's next?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Another shard," he replied.

"But where?"

Ryxar's expression darkened. "The relic showed me glimpses—ruins buried in the sands of the west. That's where we go."

She opened her mouth to question him further but froze as the air around them shifted. A low growl rumbled from the shadows ahead.

From the darkness emerged a creature—a hulking beast with jagged scales and glowing red eyes. Its presence was suffocating, radiating malice.

"Another test?" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.

"No," Ryxar said, his tone laced with annoyance. "A scavenger. Drawn to the relic's power."

The beast lunged, its claws tearing through the air. Ryxar moved with inhuman speed, sidestepping the attack. His hand ignited with crimson energy, the shard's power crackling like a storm.

The woman watched, frozen in awe, as Ryxar unleashed a blast of energy that struck the creature head-on. It howled, its body convulsing before collapsing in a heap of ash and bone.

Ryxar turned to her, his expression unyielding. "Remember this. Power attracts predators. If you can't defend what's yours, you don't deserve it."

She nodded, swallowing hard. Fear lingered in her chest, but beneath it was a spark of determination.

---

That night, as they camped under the stars, the woman lay awake, her mind restless. She thought of Ryxar, of his unyielding ambition, and of the power she had seen him wield. She knew she was a liability—a weakness he could discard at any moment.

But she wouldn't let that happen.

She clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. If survival meant strength, she would embrace it. No matter the cost.

Ryxar, sitting a distance away, glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze to the horizon. He smirked, sensing the shift in her.

"Good," he muttered to himself. "She's learning."