The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

'What the hell is that thing?'

The instant the first spear whizzed past him, icy fingers of fear gripped his spine, sparking a primal instinct to survive. He ducked and dove behind a weathered stone wall for cover. Even in those fleeting moments of disbelief, he knew—this wasn't just a trick of the mind. This entity was real.

Flinching, he instinctively raised his arms to shield his head as The Entity unleashed a torrent of jagged spears that pierced through the stone wall, erupting massive, gaping holes in the ancient structure. The air around him was thick with the acrid scent of stone dust and the explosion of the stones, reverberated in his ears.

It became overwhelmingly clear who this entity was or once was; it's very essence pulsated with an unmistakable familiarity. The choice of weaponry—darting spears born from flesh.

It mimicked the Priest's mannerisms in its own twisted and grotesque way. There was no grace in its movement, no hint of the nobility that once defined it. What stood before Zerin was a shattered parody, driven solely by a primal urge for total annihilation. A mere shadow of what it once was, now full of unbridled rage. The horror of it all weighed heavily upon him, and as he stared into the void where a noble soul should reside. The Priest was lost.

He ducked his head yet again, bringing his arm up to shield himself from the next incoming spear, feeling the whoosh of the projectile slice through the air just above him. The Entity's precision was erratic, like a wild beast thrashing in its fury, each attack fueled by rage rather than skill.

Gritting his teeth, Zerin summoned the [Crimson Needle]—glistening with ominous energy. Its deep red hue flickered like embers, casting an eerie glow. As he cautiously peeked through the jagged holes carved into the stone wall, his heart raced. The scene before him stirred a mix of dread and panic.

Several feet away, on the other side of the wall, the Entity was horror incarnate. It began to gather copious amounts of flesh from the sphere of flesh, merging the grotesque offerings onto its opaque body.

Zerin's breath hitched as the realization struck him, this was not just a mindless being. This entity possessed a warped, unsettling form of intelligence.

Briefly, the Entity bore a haunting resemblance to the Priest, a flicker of the familiar wrapped within the horror of the transformation. However, as the grotesque metamorphosis continued, the mass of flesh accumulated relentlessly, becoming an abominable amalgamation of sinew and tissue.

The Entity's shadowy hands twisted into claws of flesh, hardened and sharpened like blades of steel, glinting ominously in the dim crimson rays. Strange, dissonant voices erupted from the grotesque mass as it shifted and gurgled, echoing with agonized cries that intermingled unsettlingly—a chorus of the lost woven into its very being. Tendrils of flesh coiled around its form, pulsating as it strangled the voices within. The stench that wafted from it was putrid, that it turned Zerin's stomach.

With a spine-chilling roar, the Entity silenced the agonized voices that clamored from the flesh draped over its form, the sound reverberating through the holy grounds like rolling thunder. It was a proclamation of dominance, a declaration that the abomination had fully embraced its new identity.

Watching the transformation, Zerin seized the opportunity to slip out of the abomination's sight during the chaos. Once the Entity stabilized itself, it thrust its form through the stone wall with violent force, the remnants exploding outward in a shower of debris and dust.

As the flesh erupted into retractable spikes, sending shards of stone and dust careening through the air, it effectively created a suffocating smokescreen that shrouded the tainted holy grounds in a smoky darkness.

The Entity thrashed violently in the dense smoke, its massive form cleaving through the haze. The air sizzled with rage as it howled, a guttural wail that echoed through the ruins, piercing the suffocating veil of gray. With its eyes hungry for vengeance and no sight of its prey, it elevated itself skyward, looming ominously over the remnants.

Meanwhile, Zerin remained low to the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, breathing shallowly in a futile attempt to remain undetected. He laid flat, taking refuge behind a stone half wall, its jagged edges offering scant protection against the horror that sought him. The stones felt cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the rising heat of his anxiety.

"Damn prophecies, they didn't say anything about this!"

He cursed quietly to himself, frustration mingling with fear as he contemplated the absurdity of the situation.

With a rush of determination, he pushed himself off the cold ground just enough to steal a glance at the soaring entity that overshadowed the area, its grotesque form, a menace against the backdrop of the swirling smoke. But the moment he lifted his head, the Entity's gaze snapped in his direction. Caught in the electric moment of realization, Zerin ducked just in time, narrowly escaping its hellish focus.

'How am I supposed to survive that thing?'

He thought, a grim contemplation swirling in his mind.

The very notion felt ludicrous. Deep down, he knew he stood no chance. How could he ever hope to engage a creature that could seemingly manipulate flesh at will? The more he pondered this, the more insurmountable the task appeared. The thought of facing such a being felt only as a death sentence.

After what felt like an eternity spent cowering behind the stone wall, blending into the rugged landscape as if he were part of it, Zerin was suddenly jolted by a piercing scream that cut through the oppressive silence of the holy grounds. It was unmistakably Wisteria's voice—a shrill cry of pure terror. Peeking cautiously from his refuge through the dissipating smoke, he discerned her figure on the other side of the gate, wide-eyed and helpless, her panic evident as she took in the gruesome sight of the dead littering the ground, remnants of the carnage brought by the conflict between the Priest and the Leviathan.

Zerin's heart raced as he watched her, feeling a surge of desperation rise within him. And, Of course, the Entity was drawn to such signs of distress as if it were a moth to a flame. With an unsettling grace, it glided through the air, its massive form cutting a terrifying silhouette against the haze, focused entirely on Wisteria's screams that echoed hauntingly around the sacred grounds. The malevolent energy pulsed around it, thickening the air with impending doom, and Zerin felt his stomach drop as he realized, the Entity was no longer merely a threat to him; it was now fixated on her, motivated by the sweet allure of fear.

'To hell with this!'

He screamed internally, throwing caution to the wind.

Zerin understood the grim reality that victory was beyond his reach—that much was painfully clear. Yet, in the depths of his heart, he resolved to do the only thing he could: distract the Entity long enough. If he couldn't do that, then what the hell was his worth.

He steadied himself, gripping the staff tightly, the cool texture of the cracked bone staff grounded him. A sense of focus enveloped him as he aimed the focal point of the staff at the encroaching shadow donning flesh, which was gradually drawing closer to Wisteria. The vile Entity floated closer with unnerving calm, drawn in by the disturbance and the scent of fear that clung to the air like a fog.

As he gathered his energy, the staff trembled in his hands, a vibration that felt as though it might shatter the [Crimson Needle]. It felt as if the cursed land around him held its breath, waiting in the tense silence as he prepared to unleash the energy.

With an explosive rush of determination, Zerin released the energy from the staff. The air split with a frantic whistle as the crimson beam shot forth, startlingly bright.

The beam zipped through the murky air, cutting through the haze with an intensity that illuminated the darkness. It connected with the Entity, but due to the sheer amount of energy he had infused, precision slipped through his fingers. Instead of striking its center, the crimson light collided with one of the floating Entity's legs, the energy erupting upon impact with a shower of sparks that illuminated the abomination momentarily.

Zerin had braced himself for disappointment, expecting nothing to come from the blast. When he had first achieved that same surge of energy back in the castle, it couldn't even make a dent on the darkened stone walls. However, to his astonishment, the crimson beam elicited an immediate and visceral response.

Shortly after the blast hit, the flesh wrapped around the Shadow began to erode, peeling away until its leg burst into a dark mist that dissipated into the air. Zerin watched in shock, mouth agape—he had never imagined such a thing was possible. Its anguished cry shook the earth beneath him, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of hope igniting in his chest.

'It worked!'

His moment of accomplishment was abruptly overturned. The Entity's chilling gaze snapped toward him.

Oh sh—"

The breath was sucked from his lungs as he registered the murderous intent radiating from the beast. It was as if the very shadows around him grew darker.

In an instant, the Entity lunged forward, propelled by a rage-fueled speed. Its grotesque form hurtled through the air like a force of nature, aiming straight for him. Adrenaline igniting his senses, Zerin sprang to his feet and bolted, his heart pounding in synchronization with his frantic footsteps as he darted into the worn structure that stood beside the temple.

He could hear the rumbling of stone and the creaking of the aged beams behind him, the monstrous Entity pursuing him with relentless determination.

With each thundering crash, the Entity drove itself through several pillars within the structure, tearing it down in its ruthless pursuit. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls, and debris rained down as wood splintered and stone crumbled.

His adrenaline surged as he raced through the crumbling structure, feet pounding against the uneven stone floor. But his frantic escape came to an abrupt halt when he found himself at a dead end. He stared into the dim space, where fragments of sunlight filtered through slivers between the ancient stones, casting flickering shadows.

Before he could even gather his wits, the Entity caught up with him, its twisted form materializing from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh. Zerin's heart sank as he stood once again in direct confrontation with the monster.

In a sudden motion, the Entity unleashed a tendril from its arm. It shot out with blinding speed, a sinuous mass of flesh that wrapped around Zerin's body, constricting him like a serpent coiling around its prey. Panic surged within him as the force tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs as though it intended to suffocate him.

He summoned his staff in his hand in a desperate attempt to free himself. But once the staff was summoned, he felt his grip weaken, and his staff clattered to the ground, rolling away into the shadows.

His heart pounded loudly in his ears, the rhythm of fear drowning out everything else as he struggled against the overwhelming pressure. He felt the blood rush from his torso to his head and limbs, the oppressive grip squeezing tighter and tighter, causing his ribcage to ache dangerously close to breaking under the strain. Each heartbeat felt like a countdown, the relentless force threatening to crush him beneath its weight.

As his vision blurred, the darkened visage of the Entity loomed closer, a suffocating darkness that enveloped him completely. In that moment, despair washed over him like a cold tide. His consciousness began to slip away, the world around him fading.

As the Entity lifted a spear into the air, its grotesque form poised to strike Zerin with deadly intent, a sudden movement in the shadows brought an unexpected intervention. The air crackled with tension as the sound of a fierce struggle erupted around them, muffled yet defined, resonating powerfully in the dimly lit ruins.

Gasping as he found himself laid out on the cold stone floor, choking out the precious breath he had almost lost forever. With a surge of determination, Zerin finally managed to push himself upright, using the rough texture of the stone wall for support, his heart racing.

As he lifted his gaze, he caught sight of the lizard clinging tenaciously to the Entity. The Transfigured Lizard, pinned down the Entity, viciously tearing at the flesh that encased the monstrous shadow, ripping off a sizable chunk.

The Entity roared in outrage, a sound that reverberated through the space like a cry of pure fury. It reacted instantly, flinging the lizard off with a violent gesture, the force sending it hurtling through the air towards Zerin. With instinct, the lizard dug its claws into the stone below as it landed, carving deep gashes into the ancient surface, slowing its momentum until it came to a stop just in front of Zerin.