The air shattered dramatically as waves of sonic force radiated from the cursed rapier. Fractured lines of power distorted reality and four spectral warriors clad in the armor of House Vesperwyn emerged. Each of the four had a viciously edged weapon grasped in undead hands. The dull groans of thousands of voices echoed from the fractured lines in reality behind the specters, a chilling revelation of how many souls the artifact had feasted upon.

  Drynthor slammed both of his shields together. A clanging sound radiated from his still vibrating shields to counteract the incoming wave. The Satyr’s hooves pressed hard against the ground, and his posture revealed doubts about his ability to stop the wave. Doubts that Dahlia saw and forced her to whisper into Xeras’s mind.

  Gloombough, which grew more incandescent by the second, slashed the air. Xeras deftly created a hole in the sound waves. He didn’t linger—no, he stepped through intent on engaging the most significant threat on the field, and the Hornets followed. Drynthor practically blew the Gloamknight kisses when the much weakened sonic waves crashed against the bubble forged by his shields. Some minor waves managed to strike the satyr, but none made it to the mages behind him.

  Dahlia, the architect of this unexpected success, smiled to herself. When her minions felt a surge of pride and accomplishment, she shared in it.

  Ruth retaliated instantly; darkness dominated the usually sweet features of the incorporeal mage. A large bolt of dark fire manifested in her hands, and she threw both at their enemy – or at least, at the banshee. The impact of her first flame attack elicited a dark scream from the banshee, obliterating the second volley of fire in midair.

  The Hornet Swarm surged forward. Hundreds of spectral insects, their bodies phasing in and out of reality, spiraled in to attack the banshee and its cursed weapon. Their tiny bites and stings rained upon the banshee and her physical body, but no purchase was found on the blade. The dark materials it had been forged of were too durable for the Hornets to penetrate.

  The spectral warriors positioned themselves before Xeras, forming a semi-physical wall to prevent the Gloamknight from engaging Maeravel and Shriekfang. Still, the Gloamknight discarded their attempts—he took a step through the Between, and reappeared behind Maeravel. Two slashes of Gloombough rained upon the unprotected back of the banshee. The first strike was horizontal and the second—a downward diagonal slash—struck the banshee with vicious damage. Xeras’s third attack in the chain was parried by the movements of Shriekfang—who left the hand of the banshee to respond faster.

  Dahlia chanted swiftly; she cast Dread Resolution upon Xeras and, sucking air in to find the breath, activated “Take this, Too!” and cast Soul Lash upon Shriekfang. Two bolts of radiant power shot out of Gloombough, creating scorched, luminous wounds upon Shriekfang. The upgrade to Soul Lash for reaching level five? It fired a second bolt of radiant power instead of one.

  Curse you and your luminous attack! Shriekfang screamed in raw fury at the tiny fairy. The words shook the air and seemed to come from everywhere in Aelwyth Morghaine at once.

  The four spectral warriors advanced, not on Xeras, but upon Drynthor and the mages behind him—on a beeline for Dahlia. The warrior bellowed a war cry and engaged the two in the middle with a shield slam to each. The other two spectral warriors descended on Mr. Disapoofer, Ruth, Lorien, and Dahlia. New orders flowed through Dahlia’s connection to her minions.

  Xeras and Shriekfang traded violent blows. Although Gloombough was made from the core wood of a Tower of Mourning, it did little more than cause minor but accumulating luminous wounds upon the obsidian blade with each impact. Likewise, Shriekfang caused only superficial dark lines upon Gloombough’s smooth surface.

  Like two boxers evenly matched, they traded blows in a flurry that the less physically able viewers couldn’t quite follow.

  Ruth and Lorien focused their bolts of fire and arrows upon the far left spectral warrior and downed it with a volley of two arrows and two blasts of magic fire. Mr. Disapoofer jumped forward to draw the other charging spectral warrior. The Warp Wolf jittered out of reach from its profane sword at the last second in a flash of white-blue power before he reappeared behind the enemy, delivered a vicious bite, and then clawed it. Unfortunately, Mr. Disapoofer remained level 1 and, unlike Ruth and Lorien, hadn’t received any upgrades since his first manifestation.

  Dahlia unleashed another volley of “Take this, too!” which unleashed two bolts of crackling, sacred light that scoured the spectral warrior until it dissipated into dust.

  “We’re a good team, boy,” Dahlia praised the Warp Wolf, even as they shimmered and relocated via his teleportation powers. The duo reappeared between the Banshee and the last two spectral warriors.

  “You, though, are unnecessary,” Dahlia proclaimed. She raised a tiny hand, and two more lightning bolts of positive energy filled the gap between her hand and the mindless husk, which was hopefully all that remained of the Banshee Maeravel Thornheart. A flutter of purple butterflies floated dramatically into the air. That was her fourth spell in this combat—one more and a Duskmire Monarch would spawn, Dahlia noted. The increase in her mental attributes made keeping track of the properties of her gear vastly more manageable, and a slight, self-satisfied smirk twisted her lips upward.

  The Spirit Hornets continued their relentless onslaught against the rapidly diminishing husk of the banshee. Without Shriekfang in its hand, the undead seemed nigh mindless and didn’t defend itself.

  Oh, poor little mourner… striking at echoes and calling it justice. Did you think she was still here? That your touch could grant her peace?

  Gloombough slashed through the air, and when it hit Shriekfang, an immense explosion of vibrant green energy filled the area—obscuring the blast of green flames that Xeras unleashed from the mostly vacant sockets, filled only with orbs of green magic rather than eyes. The green flames immolated both Shriekfang and the husk as if they had been doused in oil. The husk of Maeravel’s body burned and lessened until, finally, it shattered like a window hit by a rock.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  For a brief moment, the sound of shattering glass hung in the air before Maeravel’s husk vanished from reality, no longer held together.

  You severed the last thread, foolish knight. You’ve unleashed something worse than me! Ahahaha.

  Green flames still immolated the rapier, adding a disquieting thought to bubble through Dahlia’s mind. Did Dahlia, or the entire Ebon Chorus, have the strength to destroy this profane, vile thing?

  Shriekfang taunted Xeras but found the final attack of Xeras’s three-hit (two hits and a spell) combo landed against Shriekfang’s obsidian blade. The wooden sword tore a quarter-inch deep gouge into the obsidian blade, creating a sound like nails on a chalkboard when Xeras maintained the slash down the rapier’s length.

  All around Xeras and Shriekfang, the image of an immense tree wavered in and out of existence. Dahlia recognized the Tower of Mourning associated with Xeras, but an even greater ancient tree dominated the mirage, dozens of times larger than even her Gloamknight’s Tower of Mourning—and it resonated with Gloombough, causing the wooden blade to become more for a single, well timed strike.

  So, you do know how to wound me.

  Beneath the agony, underneath the anger, Shriekfang sounded… delighted—as if existence had opened up new possibilities to him.

  The Spectral Hornets swarmed Shriekfang, and their assaults focused on the wounds caused by Xeras, allowing them to finally find purchase and harm the weapon's magic. For the first time, the blade swung—uselessly—at the swarm. What were the losses of five, ten, or even a hundred hornets when the Swarm had thousands?

  Fwoosh. Ruth’s flames blasted the cursed rapier, causing the cursed blade even more pain. Ruth’s arcing blasts of flame managed to warp around every Hornet, a testament to the mage’s control—or was it? The Pointed Hat of the Caller boosted the defense and damage of Dahlia’s minions, and Dahlia’s Will pushed the Ebon Chorus.

  “These things are annoying,” Drynthor grumbled. He slammed his shields against the remaining spectral warriors. He made up for what he lacked in damage with durability and the ability to annoy his enemies. Dahlia, however, did not forget her defensive line.

  Spectral hornet-bound arrows pierced both of the eye-sockets of the left warrior of House Vesperwyn. It crumbled to dust moments before Mr. Disapoofer savaged the other one from behind. Coupled with Drynthor’s vine retaliation and reflective shield, the warrior and wolf made quick work of the last spectral warrior.

  Shriekfang screamed. It was not a banshee's high, keening shriek but something far worse—a sound that should not exist. A sound that manifested without a source, echoing everywhere and nowhere. The shadows of the Twilight Courtyard splintered. Dahlia smirked in the face of danger—if only because it confirmed to her she’d been right not to summon Shade again. That attack would have killed the weak shadow.

  Don’t think that you’ve won.

  Dahlia launched a searing bolt of light from her hand at the blade, only she missed—or rather, Shriekfang managed to parry both blasts of light. She didn’t like that, but before she could curse at it, she recalled Twinned Resolve, and willed it to activate. Crackling radiant power appeared at her fingertips once more, cascading against the gouged surface of Shriekfang’s blade.

  Vacancies must always be filled, child. We shall see who screams last!

  Laughter—wet and rasping—shuddered through the air—a mixture of rage, hunger, and absolute refusal to yield to the laws of reality. In the deepest recesses of Dahlia’s mind, she felt an intruder and a very unwelcome one. Invisible claws of hate tried to grasp her thoughts and take control of her soul.

  Destroy it!

  Dahlia urgently called even as the fifth kaleidoscope of Duskmire Monarchs glowed in the air, transforming into an adult butterfly composed of pure magic. It fluttered on invisible winds, flapping its wings that looked so much like Dahlia’s, until it crashed into Shriekfang and exploded in a shockwave of toxic, dark magic that seeped into the cursed weapon.

  Arrows, flames, bites, stings, and slashes of sword and shield rained upon Shriekfang, who seemed to enter a state of rage. It managed to strike a corrosive blow on Xeras that festered with frost. Dahlia, fighting a battle of wills in her mind, reached deep into a resource she’d never realized she possessed.

  You hesitate, why?

  A whisper—spoken from some vast distance in time, rippled through Dahlia’s bones. She vibrated with the distant hum of a forgotten melody, a lullaby from the Age of Primordials, Gods, and Dragons. Wherever it came from, it originated long before the Courts had the rules and formalities they do now.

  The whisper ignited a resonance within Dahlia, as if the words created an echo that didn’t fade—couldn’t fade—it folded upon itself, layering like water ripples, only they fed each other and amplified one another, not weakened each other.

  You are my inheritor, so inherit. Do not let others shape you, Soulshaper.

  Light and darkness flared within Dahlia. Shriekfang screeched in terrible anger as the combined power of the Gloaming Queen, Empress of the Twilight Quintessence, and the young Gloamcaller mixed and saturated Dahlia’s mind and soul and forced the cursed blade out of the inner being of the fairy.

  Attack after attack rained upon Shriekfang. Images flickered through Dahlia’s head, seeping from the Pointed Hat of the Caller, and its blessed Insight of the Thaumaturge. She saw multiple visions of Shriekfang, all focused on the bone-wrought hilt. Yet after the fourth image, the visions shifted to show the silhouette of a dark, watching figure underground…

  “Focus all of your attacks on the hilt!” Dahlia’s voice rang sharply into the minds of each member of the Ebon Chorus.

  Ruth poured as much power as she could into her Flame Strikes; Lorien released arrows timed to hit just after Ruth’s flames faded, followed by the Hornet Swarm. Even Drynthor joined the final push, as he hurled his spirit shield with enough force to create a paper-thin crack up the dark obsidian blade of Shriekfang.

  It was Xeras that landed the penultimate blow. The Knight activated Valor Surge and unleashed a five-hit chain attack with everything he had. By the fourth blow, fractures had formed in the bone, and small pieces of the blood-silver wire had fallen off. By the fifth, an entire side of the cross guard shattered, and the last few inches of the hilt were lopped off.

  Dahlia’s incandescent Soul Lash delivered the final blow. The potent cantrip pulverized a chunk of the hilt to dust and melted over a third of the rare Sanguis Argentum, thanks to the fire imbuement Ruth granted her. Fine fractures ran up the obsidian-like blade until it shattered into three pieces.

  “Gotcha!” Dahlia shouted joyfully.

  Mr. Disapoofer teleported himself and Dahlia next to the crumbling artifact at the mental command of his mistress. Dahlia shot off the warp wolf’s head and grasped the most prominent piece as it fell towards the ground. The smallest ones disintegrated as she did. The large piece of Shriekfang weighed more than Dahlia did, and the Fomorian bones were like acid to her tiny hands, but miraculously, she managed to hold onto it and not lose her grip when the blade and fairy hit the ground.

  The fairy coughed roughly, a ragged sound that tore from her throat like broken glass. Her whole body shuddered as she swallowed down the pain, trembling from exhaustion—and excitement that could not be contained.

  Dahlia sang the first note. Her voice wavered, frail yet defiant, the melody trembling like a lantern in a storm. She sang because she refused to lose the rapidly fading opportunity.