The Resurrection Of The Demon Lord

Smoke still rose from the burnt earth, mingling with the lingering shadows of Zalthor's attack and the dying embers of Zyra's flames. The forest had fallen quiet again — unnaturally so. All that remained was the crunch of scorched leaves under Kairo's boots as he walked toward the group.

He wore a cloak of white and gray, weathered and stitched with strange markings — not of any kingdom or guild. Beneath it, armor of flexible black metal shimmered faintly. His eyes, deep silver like moonlit steel, carried weight… like he'd seen wars the world had forgotten.

Zalthor didn't lower his weapon.

"You've got three seconds to explain why you were watching us fight for our lives."

Kairo raised a hand, nonchalant. "I wasn't just watching. I was evaluating."

"Evaluating what?" Zyra snapped, fists still crackling with dying flame.

Kairo's gaze swept across the four of them. "Your survival rate."

Lucien stepped forward, his voice flat. "We're not test subjects."

"No," Kairo said. "But someone else thinks you are."

Elowyn, cautious, lifted her staff. "Who are you with?"

Kairo turned to her, his face softening for a brief second. "Not with. Against. I used to be one of them… the Obsidian Order. The cult that controls the Death Knights and the cursed husks. I defected three years ago, when I saw what they were really planning."

Zalthor narrowed his eyes. "The Obsidian Order hasn't been seen in nearly two decades."

"That's what they want you to think." Kairo's tone darkened. "They went underground. Grew quiet. But now… they've begun phase two. Awakening the old ones. Rebuilding the curseforged army."

Zyra scoffed. "And we're just supposed to take your word for it?"

"No," Kairo said. "I came to give you proof."

He reached into his cloak and tossed a small, black cube onto the scorched ground. It hummed with power — engraved with runes that shimmered crimson in the dusk light.

Lucien's eyes widened. "That's… a Soul Archive. Forbidden tech. Sealed two centuries ago."

Kairo nodded. "This contains a memory log from one of their high priests. If you play it… you'll see what's coming."

Zalthor didn't move.

Elowyn stepped forward and tapped the cube gently with her Aether-imbued fingers. The cube spun into the air and projected a ghostly vision — hazy and flickering, but clear enough to understand.

The voice that played was gravelly. Inhuman.

"Phase One complete. Death Knights reactivated. Phase Two: retrieve the remnants of Xanteria's Will. The Seal of Flame. The Bone Shard of Oath. And the Heart of the Sea. With these three relics, we bring back the final curse and awaken the Abyssbound Legion."

"First target: the healer. Elowyn."

The projection ended.

The air fell still.

Everyone turned to Elowyn.

Her lips trembled. "Me? But why—"

"Because," Kairo said grimly, "you carry one of the relics without realizing it. The Heart of the Sea — it's been hidden in your lineage. The Aqua Aether within you… it's not normal. You've always felt it, haven't you?"

Elowyn's hand instinctively moved to her chest. "Since I was a child…"

"They want you alive," Kairo continued, "long enough to extract it."

Zalthor lowered his glaive, finally, but his voice stayed cold. "If what you're saying is true, then you're coming with us. To the King. To the Council."

Kairo shook his head. "They won't believe me. They never do. But I know where their next site is — an old ruin east of the Vaebreta border. You don't have time for permission. If you wait, you'll lose the relic, and Elowyn won't survive the ritual."

Lucien looked to Zalthor. "Captain?"

Zalthor took a breath. Shadows whispered around him, tugging at his instincts.

He looked at Elowyn. Then at Kairo.

Finally, he nodded. "Then we go rogue."

Zyra grinned. "Been a while since we did that."

Kairo gave a small smile. "Then let's not waste time. The ruins of Hollowdeep are waking. And something is waiting there that even Death Knights fear."