Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

Silas froze as the noble's hand reached out toward him, fingers trembling with the effort of maintaining control over the terror. But there was something sinister in the noble's gaze, a malevolent gleam that sent a shiver down Silas's spine. The man's bloodshot eyes, filled with desperation, bore no hint of salvation, only fear against the monstrosity. 

It seemed the terror all this time had be kept back by the noble, but it was soon to end, its nose was dripping blood on the Sunkissed stones, it seemed his aspect was destroying ever so slightly, his rash breath scratching against his throat, using his exasperated voice to speak out. 

"Aspirant-" is raspy voice being cut as he coughed, red droplets staining his lips, Silas only watched as his hand that was held out against the terror bent to cover his mouth, sudden shock and horror filling his expression, in just this tiny moment, he had finally faltered. 

The force field cracked, shattering under the terror's wheat covered flesh, a myriad of tendrils forming and spearing at incredible speeds, the noble only got a second to look at the threat, before each and every one pierced him, the tendrils then ripping out with the built-up malice the terror had had. 

His body ripping and exploding into a multitude of putrid chunks, the blood raining down on the stone, some of the smaller bloody chunks showering onto the [Ashen Veil] reddening the ebony patterns. 

Silas stood motionless, watching the rain of blood and chunks of flesh as if it were a macabre storm. The noble's life had ended in an instant, his desperation and fear extinguished by the terror's brutal onslaught. The once pristine [Ashen Veil] was now speckled with crimson, the warm droplets slowly seeping into the fabric, staining it with the remnants of the noble's final moments.

The terrors branches that sprouted from its eyes, started to waver, the leaves shaking before started to vibrate, getting faster and faster, the monster shifted its head to Silas, its tendrils retreating back into its body, before opening its cavernous mouth, the shattered teeth basking in the glow of the sunset. 

'it's going for something!!' Silas insects flaring, in a panic, he dashed back and started to distance himself. 

A small hum emanated in the depths of its throat, before instantly ramping into a deafening screech, the sound creating a shockwave and slamming directly into Silas, his hearing vanishing instantly, the painful shock and ringing brought him on his knees, clutching onto his ears he could feel liquid on his finger tips as he let a scream of pain, not that he could hear his own agony, in the moment he was unable to prove he even existed, the only reminder being his touch. 

His mind sparked up through the pain and remembered its purpose, in the utter silence the new world brought, he saw the terrors tendrils heading towards him, with adrenaline pumping through his veins he activated the [Way of Wind] enchantment, the nearby breeze violently ramping up and slamming into him, sending Silas tumbling out of one the many holes in the wounded walls.

The tendrils completely demolishing the very same wall, each one tipped with a bony structure eager to find the intruder.

Silas felt the sickening pull of gravity as he was hurled into the open air, the castle's jagged walls quickly disappearing above him. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of wind tearing at his [Ashen Veil] as he plummeted from the castle's heights. The world below seemed to blur into a dizzying whirl of colours and shadows as the ground rushed to meet him.

he terror burst through the walls, its grotesque form expanding as it emerged, the branches on its head lengthening and spreading like the limbs of a twisted, nightmarish tree. using its variety of tendrils to pierce into the castle, as if climbing down its heights and retaining the speed to follow him. 

The terror continually screaming in anger at its falling prey, the distorted voice of the woman reverberated out on the stone walls as the both of them drop to the ground ever closer, not that Silas could hear its cries of course. 

Silas twisted in midair, his instincts taking over as he summoned every ounce of focus to control the chaotic winds around him. The [Way of Wind] enchantment roared to life, the gusts stabilizing his descent just enough to prevent him from becoming a smear on the ground below. He willed the wind to slow his fall, feeling the air cushion his body as it worked against gravity's pull. The castle's dark silhouette loomed above him, and the world around him became a blur of motion and colour.

He quickly glanced at the terror whose momentum slammed it into the ground, dust shooting up and causing a cloud veiled its form, Silas got up from his feet and felt the [Mad Cows Canine] form in his hand, calling the dull sword from his soul, ready to defend himself from the tendrils

But something else caught his attention, the grass he was standing on seemed to be damaged by his actions, how dare he, HOW DARE HE, HOW DARE HE DAMAGE THE PLAIN, HOW DARE HE RUIN ITS DOMAIN, he must apologise by letting the blades touch his skin, let his body sink into the soil and caress his soul. 

Silas suddenly found his body weakening, his mind blurring as another presence entered its concave, his processes being slowing one by one, his thoughts sinking and being overflowed with bliss, joy and acceptance. 

The Terror had decided to take his mind before mauling his body, the [Mad Cows Canine] feeling heavy in his grip, the blade dropping within to the ground, his body was already damaged from all his defiance, his desperate attempts to face his death, teeth bared. 

The warm voice of the flora around him sounded sweet like honey, the voices whispering continually as they bespoke for him to rest, to sit in silence, let the world roll over to a new day, let time fly by, let his weary mind by in eternal rest....

Silas had yet to fall, his teeth finding against each other, helping him anchor in the moment, a constant reminder of the strife and desire he still had, yet second by second, he found himself being drowned out by the terror. 

He sought his [Empowerment] to vanquish the presence from his mind, yet unlike the frenzy it couldn't distinguish between his thought and the collective input of the terror, his desire was constantly being shifted to fighting with all his might, and letting it take over.

using the small semblance of strength left, he gripped the handle of the [Mad Cows Canine], the rough texture of its wrappings filling him with hope, a dastard smile forming on his face.

'You can't just take me away like that, I'm not just going to die without a fight' 

the small presence tugged at his muddled mind, as he activated [Frenzy].

The Hunger resurging with a fury, the vicious famished corruption instantly assaulting his mind.

The burden made him collapse further, but instead of being devoured, the appetite of the mad cow saw something else to consume, the endless bliss and solace invading his mind was a bounty upon to the starvation that started to make itself known.

The terrors control being violently halted as it began being consumed, the two interlopers fighting each other it his head, leaving his mind alone, though their conflict took its toll, The strength from frenzy allowing Silas to push himself from the grass and into stance, blood dripping down is nose as the chaos around his thoughts ramped up.

The enemy of his enemy, the frenzy halted the terror from inflicting him, it had to overcome the madness before quelling him, yet feeling his mind start to rip from there battle, it was temporary.

Whether his body or mind would faulter first, he did not know, Silas only knew one thing. 

He needed to kill the bloody terror.

The dust cloud swirled ominously, concealing the terror's grotesque form within its depths. Silas steadied himself, his breath ragged, the [Mad Cow's Canine] trembling slightly in his grip. He knew the respite was brief—the terror wasn't done with him yet.

Without warning, several tendrils shot out from the dust like whips, cutting through the air with deadly precision. Silas's instincts flared to life, his body reacting faster than his muddled mind. He twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the first strike, the tendril slicing through the space where his head had been just moments before.

Another tendril lashed out; this time aimed at his chest. Silas sidestepped, the razor-sharp appendage grazing his [Ashen Veil], leaving a thin tear in the fabric. The terror's attacks were relentless, each strike more ferocious than the last. But Silas wasn't giving in—not yet.

He saw the next tendril coming, a flash of movement in the dust. With a surge of desperation, he brought up his sword, the dull blade of the [Mad Cow's Canine] meeting the tendril head-on. The impact reverberated through his arms, the force nearly sending him stumbling back. But he held firm, the blade catching the tendril and deflecting its lethal strike.

The tendril, diverted from its path, crashed into a nearby spire with a thunderous impact. The stone structure shuddered, cracks spiderwebbing up its length. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze—Silas, the terror, even the very air itself. Then, with a deafening roar, the spire began to collapse, the ancient stones giving way under the strain.

The structure waning before letting loose of its bounds to the earth, its shadow hovering over the entire area, as it began to descend. 

ready to crush the combatants