The air was thick and stagnant, smelling of decay and copper. Above, the blood moon, fully eclipsed, bled a terrifying crimson light onto the world, transforming the marsh and the sky itself into a vision of pure dread.

At the heart of this nightmare stood the Shattered Citadel. It was less a palace and more a monstrous growth, its stone structure half-devoured by massive, glowing roots that snaked out like the tentacles of a subterranean god.

A low, arterial red glow pulsed from the creeping vines, painting the immediate surrounding in a horrific, bloody illumination.

Adjacent to the dreadful landmark, two figures picked their way through the desolate forest. The marshy ground was a maze of black puddles reflecting the terrible moon, surrounded by crooked, skeletal trees whose branches clawed at the red sky.

The path they followed, an unsettling trail of broken earth and matted undergrowth, seemed less a natural clearing and more a forced opening leading straight to the citadel's ominous gate.

The first man at the front, was Storm Ashborn. An angular face, seemed to have carved out by an expert sculptor, with short black hair, with a few strands of white at the front.

He moved with a predator's wary grace. His leather coat was scarred and reinforced with chitin plates.

In his hands, he gripped two short, double-barreled 'Dragontooth' shotguns, clumsy, beautiful relics of ancient, forgotten industry, their iron casings etched with spiraling glyphs that faintly hummed.

His eyes constantly scanned the shadows, the silence of the marsh more unnerving than any noise.

Behind him was a wizard, Verlan, in his pristine blue robe. Before him, suspended in the air by a faint, cerulean aura, floated the tome of whispers. Its cover was bound in pale, unknown hide, and one its pages shimmering with light, casting a spell to hide their presence in that dark, oppressive atmosphere.

They were perilously close, perhaps only a stone's throw from the citadel's shadow chocked entrance, when a stir of movement snagged Storm's attention.

From behind a gnarled, root-bound tree, a figure stepped out, silently blocking the trail.

The sight was a grotesque fusion of the familiar and the alien. He possessed a perfectly human-like frame, clad in a shimmering, violet robe, the changpao, that stood in stark contrast to the oppressive red environment.

But his face was a canvas of the otherworldly; his forehead was painted a stark, dark blue, adorned with three vertical eyes arranged like an open fan, staring at them with disconcerting intelligence.

Behind him, five enormous, fluffy tails, the color and texture of a wolf's winter coat, swayed slowly, gently brushing the decaying leaves.

He carried no overt weapon, but in one hand, he held a folding fan, the zheshan, constructed not of paper or silk, but of polished, gleaming metal.

The figure, an envoy of the nightmare they had come to confront, began to walk towards them. His steps were agonizingly slow and deliberate, each footfall seeming to amplify the silence of the marsh.

And yet in that unhurried advance, a profound, chilling fear rooted itself in Storm's gut, stealing the breath form his lungs and certainty from his trigger fingers.

Verlan's floating tome shuddered violently, a chill went down his spine with the silent pressure being emanated from the creature, suffocating his senses.

The creature's fan remained closed, held like a weapon. The multi-eyed gaze settled on them, making them froze in the chilling, eternal twilight of the blood moon.

"H-He's the one that appeared in the frontlines Storm!" Verlan exclaimed in a hushed tone, fear gripping at him tightly.

"He's an eclipse beast. The Umbral Harbinger." Storm said gravely.

The beast, now only a few steps away, stopped. His three fan-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, focusing not on Storm's weaponry, but on the fragile human fear in their expressions.

A faint, knowing smirk, colder than the marsh water, touched his lips.

"So near." The beast's voice flowed out, smooth and melodious, yet carrying a resonance that vibrated in Storm's ribs.

"You were lucky to have killed one of the captains under me." The beast spoke up, but his words got looks of confusion from the two humans in front of him.

"Oh! I forgot. You'll understand only when the ranks are spoken. He was the obscurity sovereign captain under me. One of the very shots from your gun had taken his life."

"But just because you were successful in dealing with just one of the many, you thought you could tread the threshold of the 'Crimson Weaver's' rest. A peculiar audacity for such brittle things."

"What do we do now? We won't be able to scout the dungeon now." Verlan whispered, tension spread over his face.

The beast's violet robes stirred as the wind, which they hadn't felt until now. began to whisper from the direction of the Citadel. The five luxurious tails lifted slightly, bristling with contained energy.

"Scout?" the beast chuckled, a soft, dry sound like falling pebbles. "You dare think of tainting my lord's resting place?"

Without warning, the metal fan in his hand snapped open. Dark violet energy coated the fan. With a deceptive flick of the wrist, an arc of energy rushed out towards Storm.

"Storm! Dodge!" Verlan screamed, throwing out his hand in a desperate gesture.

The energy arc sliced the air with a horrific whine. Storm reacted on instinct, throwing himself sideways into a deep puddle.

The energy arc missing his head by an inch, cut through a few trunks of trees along its way.

Storm scrambled to his feet, mud and marsh water dripping from his coat, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He didn't hesitate this time. Lifting both the shotguns, activating his skill, he aimed at the beast's chest and squeezed the triggers simultaneously.

"Shield ripper!"

KA-THOOM! KA-THOOM!

Two deafening roars ripped through the silence. In the crimson light, the projectiles looked like streaks of white fire heading straight for the beast.

The beast didn't flinch. He didn't even move an inch.

The five fluffy tails whipped forward, gathering around his body like a blooming shield. The shots slammed into the barrier of fur and bone, but instead of tearing through, they blasted, creating a cloud of smoke and fire, which was absorbed instantly.

"You? You're the one the humans call their greatest hero? Quite disappointing." The beast sneered with a mocking laugh.

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.