The Forsaken Heir

Aric's mind raced as he surveyed the aftermath of the explosion. The Wendigo King's physical form had been obliterated, but the dark, pulsing energy that lingered in the air told him the threat was far from gone. He wiped the blood from his brow and tried to steady his breath, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a vice. Around him, the squad was picking themselves up, dazed but alive.

"Everyone still breathing?" Aric called, his voice rough but urgent.

Darius emerged from a tangle of roots and debris, his dark clothing caked with dust. "Alive, but barely." He shot a glance around the clearing. "That was too close."

Kael, brushing off a thick layer of dirt from his armor, let out a heavy breath. "I'd rather not get tossed like that again."

Ronan, despite being thrown a considerable distance by the blast, grinned as he rose to his feet. "That was a hell of a hit," he said, cracking his neck as if shaking off the blow. "But I'll admit, I expected more fight from the so-called Wendigo King. That all you've got?" His bravado was in full swing, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. He was ready for more.

Lira, supporting herself with her staff, shot Ronan a sharp look. "You need to stop underestimating the enemy," she warned. "That thing isn't dead. Can't you feel it? The magic here—it's still thick with darkness."

"I'm with her," Kael muttered, eyes scanning the shadowed forest. "The fight's not over."

Aric gave a terse nod. "No. We've only just begun."

Before anyone could respond, the air grew cold—unnaturally so, as if the very life of the forest was being siphoned away. The dark energy swirling around the area began to concentrate, gathering into a mass of thick, pulsing shadows. It twisted and writhed, coalescing in the center of the clearing where the Wendigo King had fallen.

The squad watched in grim silence as the shadows began to take shape once more, reforming into the grotesque figure of the King. Its gaunt, skeletal form reassembled with horrifying ease—bones snapping back into place, sinew knitting together like threads being pulled tight. Its antlers, jagged and menacing, seemed to grow even larger, and its glowing red eyes burned with renewed malice.

Lira took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. "No… this can't be happening. It should be dead!"

Aric's jaw clenched as he tightened his grip on his sword. "That thing doesn't have a normal body. It's tied to something—something deeper."

The Wendigo King let out a twisted, guttural sound that could only be described as laughter, though it was as far from human as possible. Its voice, low and rumbling, echoed across the forest as it reformed completely, towering over them once more.

"I am the darkness that devours," the King snarled, its voice thick with malevolent power. "Your lives will feed my hunger."

Ronan, ever bold, stepped forward, fists clenched and ready. "I don't care how many times you reform. I'll just keep breaking you." He cracked his knuckles, mana surging through his fists in preparation for another fight.

But Aric raised a hand, stopping Ronan before he could charge in. "Not yet," Aric said, his voice firm but calm. "Lira, we need to figure out what's keeping that thing tethered. Its body isn't the source of its power."

Lira nodded, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I'm trying to sense it, but there's interference—something in the ruins. It's like the magic is being redirected."

"Then we find the source," Aric said decisively. "Kael, Darius—guard Lira while she tries to locate whatever's keeping this thing alive."

"On it," Kael replied, raising his greatsword in a defensive stance, ready to cut down any Wendigo that dared approach.

Darius melted into the shadows, his daggers flashing briefly as he nodded. "I'll take care of any threats. Stay close, Lira."

Ronan, however, had no intention of backing down from the King. He pounded his fists together, the air around him crackling with energy. "You go play with your magic tricks," he said, a dangerous grin splitting his face. "I'll keep our friend here entertained."

The Wendigo King snarled, its crimson eyes locking onto Ronan as it advanced, its massive claws scraping the ground with every step. The temperature dropped even further, frost creeping along the ground as the King's presence warped the very air around them.

"Ronan, be careful!" Lira warned, her voice tense. "That thing's not playing around."

"Neither am I," Ronan replied, his grin widening. "Let's see what you're really made of, ugly."

Without hesitation, Ronan charged forward, his fists glowing with mana as he struck the Wendigo King square in the chest. The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, but the King barely flinched. Its skeletal form absorbed the blow, and with terrifying speed, it lashed out with its massive claws.

Ronan ducked under the first swipe, rolling to the side before launching himself back at the King with a powerful uppercut. His fist connected with the King's jaw, snapping its head back, but again, the creature shrugged off the attack as if it were nothing.

Aric watched from the corner of his eye as Ronan fought the King, his movements a blur of raw power and aggression. But he couldn't afford to focus on the fight just yet. They needed to find the phylactery—the object that was keeping the Wendigo King anchored to this realm.

"Lira, any luck?" Aric asked as he and the others began moving deeper into the ruins, the oppressive energy growing stronger with each step.

Lira closed her eyes, her hand glowing with a faint blue light as she tried to sense the source of the magic. "It's further in," she said after a moment. "There's a concentration of dark energy deeper in the ruins—something powerful. That's where we need to go."

Darius, already scouting ahead, called back to the group. "We've got company! More Wendigos up ahead."

Aric cursed under his breath. "We don't have time for this. Stay close and keep moving. We fight through."

The squad pressed forward, their weapons at the ready. As they neared the entrance to the deeper chambers of the ruins, a pack of Wendigos emerged from the shadows, their twisted, gaunt forms snarling as they charged.

Kael stepped forward, his greatsword gleaming with light magic as he swung it in a wide arc, cutting down the first Wendigo with ease. "Keep moving!" he shouted. "I'll clear a path!"

Darius darted through the fray, his daggers flashing as he danced between the Wendigos, slicing through their limbs with deadly precision. Each creature fell with a sickening thud, but more seemed to emerge from the shadows, their red eyes glowing with malevolent intent.

Aric moved alongside Lira, his sword cutting down any Wendigos that got too close. "We need to reach that phylactery," he said, his voice grim. "If we don't destroy it soon, Ronan won't last."

Lira nodded, her eyes focused on the path ahead. "It's just up ahead. I can feel it."

The group pushed forward, cutting through the Wendigos as they pressed deeper into the ruins. The walls around them were ancient, covered in dark, twisted runes that pulsed with dark energy. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and the very ground beneath them seemed to tremble with the power that lingered in the depths.

Finally, they reached a large chamber at the heart of the ruins. At its center stood a grotesque altar, adorned with jagged bones and dark crystals. The air around the altar crackled with dark energy, and at its center, resting in a basin of black stone, was a glowing red orb—pulsing with the same malevolent light that burned in the Wendigo King's eyes.

"That's it," Lira whispered, her voice trembling. "That's the phylactery. We have to destroy it."

But before they could move, more Wendigos swarmed into the chamber, snarling as they moved to defend the altar.

"We don't have time for this," Aric growled, his eyes narrowing. "Kael, Darius—take care of the Wendigos. Lira, destroy that phylactery."

Kael's greatsword swung in wide arcs, cleaving through the Wendigos as they lunged at him. Darius, ever the shadow, moved with deadly precision, his daggers cutting down any creature that got too close.

Meanwhile, Lira stepped toward the altar, her staff glowing with light as she prepared to shatter the phylactery.

But just as she raised her staff, the Wendigo King's twisted voice echoed through the chamber, carried on the cold, dead air.

"You may destroy this vessel," it snarled, its voice a guttural growl that seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the chamber. "But the darkness I have awakened will consume you all."

Lira hesitated for a fraction of a second, the weight of the King's words pressing down on her. But then she steeled herself, her eyes narrowing with determination.

"Not today," she muttered, before bringing her staff down with a resounding crack.

The phylactery shattered, the red orb exploding in a brilliant flash of light. Dark energy erupted from the altar, swirling through the air before dissipating into nothingness. The Wendigos let out bloodcurdling howls as they collapsed to the ground, their forms crumbling into dust.

The air grew still, and for the first time since they had entered the ruins, the oppressive darkness began to lift.

Aric let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It's over," he said, his voice low and tired.

Kael wiped the blood from his greatsword and glanced around the chamber. "For now," he muttered. "But the King's words…"

"We'll deal with that later," Aric replied, his eyes hardening. "Right now, we need to make sure Ronan's still standing."

The squad turned and made their way back through the ruins, their steps heavy with exhaustion. But as they emerged from the depths, the cold air hit them, and Aric’s eyes immediately went to the battlefield where Ronan had been holding off the Wendigo King.

What greeted them was far worse than Aric had imagined.

Ronan lay slumped against a crumbling stone pillar, his body bloodied and battered, barely recognizable beneath the torn armor. His arms were covered in vicious claw marks, deep gashes that ran the length of his forearms. Blood pooled around him, soaking the ground. But what made Aric’s heart drop was the sight of Ronan’s severed arm, lying a few feet away, motionless.

“Gods…” Lira whispered, rushing forward with Kael at her side. Her hands were already glowing with healing magic, but the grim set of her face showed she understood the seriousness of the injury. Kael didn’t say a word as he reached Ronan, his strong arms easily lifting the man’s limp form to lay him flat. Ronan groaned, barely conscious, his face pale from blood loss.

Lira knelt beside Ronan, her eyes scanning the damage, fingers trembling as she hovered over the wound. “Kael, grab his arm,” she commanded sharply, not wasting a second. Her voice was steady, though her face showed clear signs of panic. “We need to reattach it quickly before the blood loss gets worse.”

Kael obeyed, quickly retrieving Ronan’s detached arm and bringing it to Lira. He handed it to her, but the moment she began channeling her magic into the severed limb, her expression changed.

Lira’s eyes narrowed as her healing magic flickered across Ronan’s skin. She let out a sharp breath of frustration. “It’s not working,” she muttered under her breath, her glowing hands pausing for just a second before she tried again. The magic flowed, wrapping itself around the severed tissue, but the moment it began to take hold, something dark twisted within the wound, rejecting her efforts.

Lira’s eyes widened. “Damn it! The King’s curse… it’s stopping the healing.”

“What do you mean?” Aric demanded, his voice sharp. His hands clenched into fists as he looked at Ronan’s pale face, then back to Lira. “Can’t you break it?”

Lira shook her head, panic starting to edge into her voice. “No… not with my level of magic. It’s… it’s dark energy, embedded deep. He needs a Lord-ranked healer—someone who can purge the curse first. If we don’t act soon, his arm won’t be saved.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. “Then we need to get him to the capital. The healers there—”

“There’s no time to argue,” Aric cut him off, his voice hard and decisive. “Kael, Lira, you take him back to the capital. Move quickly and keep him stable, but don’t push your mana reserves too far. Ronan’s chances decrease if you’re spent before reaching the healers.”

Lira nodded, her hands glowing as she quickly cast a stabilizing spell on Ronan’s wounds, slowing the blood flow and sealing the major arteries as best she could. Kael, without hesitation, hoisted Ronan’s limp body over his shoulder, his face a mask of determination. Ronan barely stirred, his breathing shallow and erratic.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep him stable,” Lira said, her voice quieter now, but firm. She cast one last glance at Aric, her expression torn between concern and focus. “Are you sure you’ll be alright here with Darius?”

Aric nodded, his jaw set. “We’ll manage. Go. Get him help.”

Without wasting another moment, Kael and Lira set off, Kael’s strides long and steady as he carried Ronan’s weight effortlessly, while Lira kept her focus on maintaining the stabilizing magic around Ronan’s injuries. Aric watched them disappear into the trees, his gut twisting with worry, but there was no time to dwell on it. There was still work to be done.

Darius stepped up beside him, his usual quiet confidence returning as he surveyed the area. “What now?”

Aric exhaled, his eyes drifting toward the entrance of the ruins once more. “We need to clear out the remaining Wendigos and secure the ruins. If the King was drawing power from something here, we need to find it and make sure the military can come in later to investigate.”

Darius gave a slight nod, his sharp eyes flicking toward the dark stone structure ahead. “I’m guessing that means whatever artifact or relic the King was tied to is somewhere deeper inside.”

“Exactly,” Aric replied, gripping the hilt of his sword. He could still feel the lingering energy from the Wendigo King—an oppressive, heavy force that clung to the air like smoke. “Let’s get this done.”

The two moved cautiously back toward the ruins, the cold air carrying a sense of dread that neither of them could shake. The ground beneath them was littered with signs of the recent battle—broken stones, deep claw marks, and splatters of blood from the Wendigos they had already slain. But the deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the atmosphere became.

“It’s like the place is alive with dark mana,” Darius muttered as they reached the entrance of the ruins. His voice was low, but there was an edge to it, as if the very walls were pressing down on him.

Aric nodded. He felt it too. The pulse of energy that had been present during their first encounter with the Wendigo King had not fully dissipated. It was still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting.

As they descended into the lower levels of the ruins, the sound of footsteps echoed off the ancient stone walls. The light from their torches flickered, casting eerie shadows as they moved deeper into the structure. There was a heaviness in the air, like the ruins themselves were steeped in something malevolent.

“Wait,” Darius whispered, suddenly holding up a hand. He moved ahead with silent precision, crouching low as he peered around a corner.

Aric tightened his grip on his sword, the flicker of mana coursing through his body as he prepared for what might come.

“There,” Darius murmured, pointing into the gloom ahead.

Several Wendigos prowled through the crumbling halls of the ruins, their skeletal forms slinking in the shadows. Unlike the mindless beasts they had fought earlier, these Wendigos seemed more deliberate in their movements, as if they were still carrying out some twisted order from the King. Their glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness, scanning for intruders.

“Still acting under the King’s will,” Aric whispered, his eyes narrowing. “Let’s take them out quietly.”

Darius nodded and slipped into the shadows, his form practically disappearing as he moved. Within moments, the soft sound of blades slicing through the air signaled the end of one Wendigo, and before the others could react, Darius had already taken down two more.

Aric followed behind, dispatching another Wendigo with a swift, clean strike to its exposed ribcage. The creature let out a soft, guttural hiss before crumbling to the ground.

“They’re not nearly as strong without their King,” Darius commented as he wiped his blades clean on a scrap of fabric. “But something’s still keeping them tethered.”

Aric nodded grimly, scanning the hallway ahead. The deeper they went, the more intense the pressure became, like an unseen force was pushing against them, trying to drive them back.

After taking out a few more straggling Wendigos, they reached a large, dark red orb, intricately carved with runes that glowed faintly with residual dark magic. It was clear this was where the King had drawn his power from.

“This is it,” Aric muttered, running a hand over the orb. He could feel the energy pulsing from within, though it seemed weaker now, almost dormant. “Whatever’s behind here is the source.”

Darius raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s still dangerous?”

“Only one way to find out.” Aric stepped back, gripping his sword tightly. With a deep breath, he channeled mana through his body, igniting his blade in brilliant flames. The heat from the sword intensified as Aric swung it with precision, sending a concentrated wave of fire crashing into the dark red orb.

The flames licked at the runes, and for a moment, it seemed like the dark magic was burning away. But as the fire subsided, the orb remained intact, the runes now flickering weakly, as if the power within had gone dormant but not destroyed.

“It’s not breaking,” Darius observed, his voice tense. “But I can feel the magic... it’s still there.”

Aric frowned, frustration simmering beneath the surface. He could feel the dark energy coiled within the orb, resisting his attack. It wasn’t enough. The remnants of the Wendigo King’s power were still too strong.

“Alright,” Aric growled, stepping forward again. “Time to bring out the big guns.”

Darius glanced at him, confused. “What are you—?”

Before Darius could finish, Aric planted his feet firmly on the ground, his stance wide as he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. Slowly, he began to draw upon the deepest wells of his mana, channeling the energy through his entire body.

The temperature in the room rose sharply, the air growing thick with heat as a red glow began to emanate from Aric’s form. Flames licked at the edges of his armor, his aura burning brighter and more intense by the second.

Darius stepped back instinctively as the power swelled, his eyes widening. “Aric… what are you—?”

“Crimson Dominion,” Aric muttered, his voice low and controlled. The air around him rippled with the sheer force of his mana. “Fire Domain.”

With a single motion, Aric raised his sword high above his head, the blade now wreathed in roaring flames. The heat radiating from him was suffocating, warping the air as the flames intensified. Then, with a fierce cry, Aric slammed his sword into the ground.

The moment the blade connected with the stone floor, a massive surge of fire erupted from the point of impact, spreading outward in all directions. The flames formed a circle around Aric, expanding into a wide radius that engulfed everything within his domain. The sheer heat of the attack was overwhelming, and the red orb at the center of the room seemed to pulse in response.

The orb flickered violently as the flames washed over it, the runes glowing brighter and then dimming, as if the dark magic inside was struggling to maintain its grip. The heat bore down on the orb, Aric’s domain pressing against it with unrelenting force.

The red orb pulsed once, twice—and then fell still.

Aric held his stance, his breath ragged as he kept the flames burning around him, his eyes locked on the now-dormant orb. The runes that had once glowed so fiercely were now dim, their power seemingly sealed or suppressed by the intensity of Aric’s Crimson Dominion.

Darius stepped forward cautiously, eyeing the orb with a mixture of awe and caution. “Is it… is it over?”

Aric exhaled sharply, his body trembling from the effort of maintaining the domain. The flames around him flickered and then extinguished, leaving the room in an eerie silence. “For now,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “But we don’t touch it. It’s inactive, not destroyed.”

Darius nodded grimly. “We’ll need the military to come in and secure this. Whatever that thing is… it’s still dangerous.”

Aric sheathed his sword, his hands still shaking slightly from the strain. “Agreed. We’ll have the military send a specialized unit to handle it. For now, we leave it and clear the remaining Wendigos.”

They both turned to leave, the oppressive weight of the dark magic still lingering in the air behind them, a reminder of the threat that had not yet been fully eradicated.