The Winds of the New World-Chapter 43 - 40: The Battle with the Sleeper – Part 2

Chaos consumed the underground chamber. The shadows conjured by the Sleeper twisted, taking on monstrous forms that surrounded Edmund, Voss, and Kieza. The temple itself seemed to protest against the entity's profane presence, with cracks spreading across the walls and dust falling from the ceiling like a rain of ashes.

Sweat dripped down Edmund's forehead as he frantically assessed the situation. The monster before them was more than just a creature—it was a relic of a forgotten past, a being shaped by ancient and profane magic. Wounding it was not enough; they needed to destroy it completely.

The beast raised its massive arms, and the shadows around it merged into black tendrils that lashed forward like spears. Edmund rolled to the side, narrowly dodging an attack that left a crater where he had stood just moments before. Voss blocked another strike with his blade, but the impact sent him crashing violently against a wall. Kieza leaped over the debris, slicing one of the spectral tendrils in half—only for it to regenerate instantly.

— We need to strike the core! — Edmund shouted, running through the rubble.

He recalled the hieroglyphs on the walls. The seal that bound the creature was not just physical but also spiritual. If the monster had been imprisoned by a ritual, then there had to be a weakness—a heart, a core, something still tied to its energy.

Seizing the creature's distraction, Edmund dashed toward the side of the chamber, where an ornate pedestal still faintly glowed with ancient runes. His hands traced the symbols, trying to decipher them. Among the worn carvings, one image caught his attention: a blade driven into the creature's chest, right at the center of a black sun symbol.

— The chest! That's where we must strike! — he shouted to his companions.

Kieza dodged an attack and rushed toward him. — How do we get close enough to do that?!

Edmund pulled a small flask of flammable oil from his belt. — With fire!

He hurled the flask against one of the columns near the creature. The liquid spread quickly, and with an agile motion, he threw a torch onto the oil. Flames erupted, casting a vibrant orange light into the darkness. The creature's conjured shadows thrashed, weakened by the sudden brightness.

— Now! — Voss bellowed, charging with his silver blade.

The creature roared and lashed out with a brutal strike, but Kieza lunged ahead, sliding across the floor and slicing into one of the beast's legs. The monster staggered, and in that moment of hesitation, Edmund rushed straight for its chest.

The broken spear was still embedded in the creature's decayed flesh. With a cry of effort, Edmund leaped, gripping the blade and forcing it deeper. The silver gleamed intensely as it pierced the necrotic flesh.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

The creature let out a deafening howl. Its body began to convulse violently, as glowing cracks spread outward from the wound. The shadows around it dissipated, and the temple's runes shone once more, as if reacting to the fatal strike.

Voss and Kieza stepped back, eyes wide as they watched. The creature started to dissolve, its body disintegrating into black mist that was drawn into the cracks in the ground. A final roar echoed through the chamber before everything fell silent.

Only the sound of the three warriors' ragged breathing filled the space now. Exhausted, Edmund fell to his knees, his body aching. Kieza and Voss approached, still on high alert.

— Is it over? — Kieza asked, staring at the empty space where the monster had stood moments before.

Edmund observed the runes on the floor, now glowing steadily. The seal was restored. He took a deep breath and nodded.

— It's over.

But deep in his mind, he knew that creature was not the only threat left behind by the lost civilization.

And this was only the beginning.