The world jolted as a thunderous crack shattered a moment's stillness. A second snap followed, breaking the brief silence. Iron groaned and timber creaked underfoot as Naereah joined Havoc on the great, wide bridge. Met by a deafening clang, Anton joined next. When Harper followed, the bridge screamed its protest, the world rising, the vault falling as the wooden slats heaved like a wave, peaking and dipping with belligerent motion.

Naereah stumbled, but Havoc caught her, the warmth of her gasp slipping past the gap between buttons, sinking through his shirt, spreading across his chest. Even as the ground shifted beneath his feet, Havoc held the moment—Naereah soft to his touch, a tender, graceful beauty now kept by a beast.

It was her decision, her coming regret. He did not see a kind future, not for him, not for her. One bite at a time, at least the instant could be savoured. When it turned sour later, he had given her a choice. She chose him. He chose denial. Denial declined. So he would prove himself wrong, protect her, and keep her close to his side.

Havoc, my boy, you call me deranged? Envy jeered. Havoc ignored it.

Love and consumption, what difference lies between them? Pride whispered to his mind, its voice frail still, yet growing stronger beneath the pale light. All who grow strong must choose: devour, or be devoured.

'I'm alright,' Naereah whispered, yet remained in his hold.

She found her way through the fabric of his shirt, her lips pressed against his skin, heat blooming where her breath had lingered.

'Stand,' Anton growled, his frame swelling with beastly might, claws jutting from fur-matted fingers, bristled hairs creeping across his bulk. 'They approach.'

The ground lurched high, then plunged low. Metal whined. Wood snapped. Monsters hissed—clawing up from the dark. The first clambered onto the wooden slats. Its sisters followed.

They stood the height of two men—slender, graceful, wrong. Coated head to foot in white carapaces, bright pink lines trailing their centre, they bore a feminine shape: wide hips, rounded chests peaking their mantles, violet hair breaking through the back of their heads and running their length like a tail—narrow and straight, not a strand out of place. Yet a scarlet mass writhed between the gaps of their shells. Flattened hairs slipped from the breaks, coiling, twisting, winding, and worming back into place, only to break again.

White specks dotted the length of their hair. They blinked closed, blinked open, and spooled from the breach—countless eyes glaring at Havoc, shifting to Anton, turning to Harper—then settling on Naereah.

Anguished shrieks tore the air. They curdled blood and rattled bone, stabbing between Havoc's ribs, surging seething grief, loss, and heartbreak into his being.

'What—what are they?' Naereah gasped, pressing her hands to her head, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

Harper rushed to her side. Drawing Naereah's arm over her shoulder, she helped her stand, even as her own knees quivered to buckle.

'Veilsect maidens,' Harper managed between tearful breaths. 'Keep it together. Their pain is a lie—used to birth more of their kind.'

Though he suspected he did not bear the brunt of it, images flooded Havoc's mind: a royal court; a king upon his throne; countless suitors swarming to attend him. He felt their yearning, their heartbreak when one queen rose to claim her place beside the king. He watched as, in love, the queen sired countless young—gelatinous orbs splitting open in clustered bloom. A new generation, born to begin the cycle anew.

The forsaken maidens found comfort in one another, and in their craft. They danced and sang to hovering flames come night; come morning, they dug. Crystals spawned where they burrowed—a tunnelled kingdom, shimmering and vast. And though their hearts weighed low with desire—unchosen, unmothered—in their sisterhood there was purpose. In their fellowship, peace. Their minds were at ease when turned to the good of the hive.

Then the sickness fell. Then it was not enough. Perhaps it never was.

They swarmed the palace, chitin cracking beneath their claws, royal jelly spilling from their maws to drown the king and queen alike. Then they turned upon each other. Only one survived—the Abomination that now rose upon the bridge, towering over the twisted spirits of her kind, a lance clenched in her grip, four wings unfurled behind.

'Why don't you love me!' the queen cried, her voice a tortured hum.

Wings buzzed to a blur upon her back as she hovered over the undulating bridge. At her shriek, the flattened strands—eyes locked on Naereah—reeled in, retreating beneath the shells of the gathered horde.

A breath of relief brushed Havoc's lips. From Harper, a gust; from Naereah—a storm. The swell of images pulled back from his mind. Yet as the psychic tide withdrew, the Dungeon-Spawn advanced.

'They'll target the women,' Harper warned. 'Naereah first, and me after her.'

A staff shimmered into her grip. Red and white pressed through her clothing until she stood garbed once more as a priestess, a faint glow of golden mist shrouding her like a veil.

'If either of us fall to their touch—' her voice broke; revulsion twisted her lips. 'We'll be befouled where we stand—Abominations—and a new army will spill from our wombs, born of our own tarnished spirits. So, gentlemen,' she turned to Anton, then to Havoc, a smile on her face that did not reach her eyes, 'this is not where we fall. I have faith. But if it is—' she drew a breath, her tone turning to iron, 'you'd both fail as true men if you do not fall first.'

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

'Understood?' Naereah added, her voice firm as she met Havoc's eyes, a metallic sheen coating her hands, lightning sparking between her fingers.

Havoc held her glare. He smiled; her smile broke soon after.

'You're mine,' Havoc said.

'You also belong to me,' Naereah countered.

He did not remember making that bargain, but neither did he correct her.

'Nothing touches what is mine.'

'And I will not be made a cradle for monsters!' Naereah huffed. 'So do as you do. Be my hero, and I'll fight at your side.'

From the far side of the bridge, the horde pressed ever closer. Havoc levelled his sword at their approach. Black flames wreathed its edge as black plate armoured his frame.

Nothing touches what is yours? Envy jeered. Tell that to Sedrick. If I controlled this meat, I could have saved him… Granted, I would have no reason to. Yet could have done so all the same.

Havoc sighed. The horde grew near. Whispered seductions brushed his ear as black flames swelled along his blade, the fires turning, the voices twisting—to burn, destroy, devour.

'Great and powerful, Calamity's Edge—heir to the Dragon, or so they say' Anton mocked. 'What in the gods' names stays your hand?'

Havoc glanced at him, then returned his gaze to the horde, their cries rising over the groans of the bridge.

So many mouths yet only one mind. Havoc, my boy, you might be driven mad, came the manic laughter of his Captive Spirit, as Havoc unleashed the flames.

An ink-black wave of fury crashed into the Veilsect maidens. In an instant, dozens were purged by the flames. Dozens more burned away at Havoc's second strike, even more at the third. Yet as he drew back his arm to cast an incinerating strike, he faltered.

His armour withdrew. His knees struck the wood as he fell. He felt the clatter of his blade strike the ground, but did not hear it. He could not over the myriad of whispered so close to his ears. His throat rasped hoarse—he was screaming. He could not drive the thoughts from his mind: to kill, to burn, to be all there was. To rule and to reign—a cosmos of one; of him. Of Him.

His Core surged with Pandemonia—grim consumption that would swallow him whole. He forced open his eyes—his fingers were claws. Black and white scales cracked across his hands, he felt them spreading his arms, burning into his chest.

'A suitor rises to our sickness,' the Abomination rejoiced.

He groaned. He screamed. He cried. The horde marched on.

A hand caressed his back—Naereah. From her other hand, streams of lightning coursed into the horde.

Anton tore into their ranks, cracking ivory shells like timber, wrenching writhing flesh with savage precision. Harper sent waves of golden light cascading into the swarm. Some were blown apart, others hurled from the bridge into the dark. Yet no matter how many fell, more crept from the abyss to replace them.

They needed Havoc—but he was coming undone.

The imbalance.

He was not certain whose thought that was—his? Envy's? Pride's? The voices carried by the infernal blade? Something else entirely? It did not matter—the thought was right, confirming an assumption he had made long ago.

Different Remnants responded to his dual powers in different ways. Before its destruction, the Traveller's Crow had drawn only from Pandemonia's murky depths. His shattered blade had once been fuelled by Harmony alone. Now, wielding Pridewrought, he could replenish his Core—but for every trickle of Harmony absorbed from the flames, a tide of darkness came surging in its wake.

Harper screamed. Naereah pressed her lips to Havoc's cheek, then rose—streams of blinding plasma surging from her palms as she advanced toward the horde.

Purge it!

He stood—burning, shaking, changing, mutating. His teeth ground together; he gripped the blade tight, levelling it toward the sea of countless Spawn.

'To the side!' he commanded, his voice a hollow roar he did not recognise.

When Naereah was clear of his line—Anton falling back with Harper cradled in his arms—Havoc released the building flames. The air warped from the heat; the torrent crashed into the swarm with pitiless judgement.

All were at fault. None that touched the flames remained.

When the blaze rolled back, Havoc refused it. The fire coiled upon itself, seething hot—then burned out.

The scales peeled from his form. Before his touch met the seething flesh beneath, Naereah was at his side—a healing warmth spreading from her hold, his skin reknitting in a human shade. With her power mirrored through his own, he joined her efforts, and together they made him whole.

She stumbled. He caught her again, then led her to rest upon one of the beams—just as the lonely queen set her feet upon the ground.

'Not her—me!' the queen howled. 'Love me!'

Her forces split to the sides as the Veilsect Champion darted forward. Those too slow to move ended swiftly at the point of her lance, their bodies breaking apart like a mishandled vase.

Her thrust was not toward Havoc—it was Naereah in her sights. He would not allow it. He met her point with the edge of his blade. The ground shattered where they clashed, splinters dusting the air like snow—Havoc driven back beneath the weight of the blow.

The queen charged again. Havoc met her strike once more. With all his strength—his re-donned armour draining his Core—he deflected the lance high. His blade came down upon her carapace. Sparks rained from the impact—yet the queen was unharmed.

'That thing's from hell—kill it! Hold nothing back!' Harper barked, thrusting her palm into a maiden and shearing its armour from knotted flesh.

The bridge bucked high, then plunged—a wave of wood and iron fleeing beneath his feet. His companions clung fast, fingers locked in the gaps between the boards. Havoc did not. He clashed again with his enemy, unwilling to let such a thing escape.

What it might do to Naereah if left alive—the thought pulsed through him, hot and unrelenting. He lashed out once more, even as he fell.

The plummet spanned forever. Havoc could scarcely contend with the rain of strikes. Even where he broke the queen's defence, the Dungeon's will blunted his blade. He flared Catharsia through his Spirit Chain—long enough to block, to guard, to hold—but as blood trailed from his ears, he cut the flow.

Then, as he deflected one final strike, he spread forth his Domain. When his blade came down again, it passed through chitin, meeting no resistance.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.