Chael moved through the corridor with silent steps against the stone floor.

  The fight had left him more aware of his own strength. His body, senses, and the unnatural awareness granted by his Harbinger abilities.

  For the first time since his transformation, he acknowledged a truth that had been creeping at the edges of his mind.

  Being a Harbinger wasn’t half bad, after all.

  He had taken down that knight with ease and without too much difficulty by reacting to attacks before they even fully formed. Even now, as he walked, he could still feel the rush of battle lingering beneath his skin.

  It was intoxicating, and unlike anything he had felt before.

  Sure, Chael had fought before tens of times with opponents of varying strength, but his first proper fight as a Harbinger with an opponent of similar strength was a thrilling new experience. After all, his heightened senses, strength, and speed was on a whole different level compared to what he had ever been before.

  His fingers lightly traced the black-stained windows lining the corridor, their surfaces warped and cracked with age. The glass was murky and barely letting in any light, but through the distortion, he could just barely make out the world beyond.

  And what he saw made him pause.

  Far in the distance, beyond the cathedral walls and deep in the snow-covered mountains, stood a fortress. From what he could see, it was surrounded by other little settlements, and the fortress itself was black, as if it was made of dark stone or iron.

  Chael’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold. ‘Huh? Since when was there a fortress here?’

  His fingers curled slightly against the glass as a strange sensation settled in his chest.

  It felt… familiar for some reason, like something he had seen before. Or maybe something he should have seen before.

  Something about it felt wrong. It was like a déjà vu that never quite settled.

  But before he could dwell on it further, he heard it.

  Metallic footsteps.

  Chael didn’t react immediately. Instead, he shifted his grip on his spear and adjusted his stance.

  Slowly, he turned the tip of the spear outward and angled it just enough to catch a reflection.

  The polished silver gleamed faintly, and within its fractured surface, he saw the knight.

  It was patrolling up the corridor and moved at the same measured pace as the one before.

  Chael sighed through his nose.

  Another one.

  He remained still and watched through the reflection as the knight continued its advance.

  ****

  The knight moved forward with mechanical precision.

  Its footsteps echoed through the empty corridor in a steady rhythm against the cold stone floor. Its armor reflected the dim glow of the cathedral’s eerie torch light, every polished surface gleaming faintly as it passed.

  It did not think. It did not pause. It only walked.

  As it rounded a corner, its faceless helm turned slightly and scanned the space ahead.

  There was nothing. The corridor was empty.

  The knight did not stop.

  It took another step forward-

  And then, a silver blade thrust through the gap in its armor and pierced clean through the back of its throat.

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  The knight jerked, its body stiffening as the crimson glow in its visor flickered.

  The weight of its metal frame crumpled to the ground with a dull thud. Its sword clattered uselessly beside it. The light in its eyes faded into nothingness.

  Chael lowered his spear as he stepped into view.

  That had been too easy.

  His blindfolded gaze flickered over the knight’s corpse. He wasn’t surprised not see his own reflection.

  This was a mystery he wanted to get to the bottom of. He had noticed this before he had become a Harbinger at the cave he and Echidna stayed at to seek shelter from the Black Storm. It definitely had something to do with the Blind Prophet as this phenomenon had only taken place when he heard the muffled voice which he would later come to understand as “You are ‘The Reflection of What Was and What Will Be’” - whatever that meant.

  Either way, Chael knew he’d make sense of all of this sooner or later.

  He crouched beside the body and ran a hand over its tarnished chest plate.

  These knights weren’t difficult opponents for him. Especially not with his ability. Their armor, their weapons, and everything they carried reflected light. That meant he could see through them, and track every movement with every shift in their stance.

  And that got him thinking.

  If their armor was so useful… why not take it for himself?

  Chael reached for the knight’s helmet.

  He gripped it firmly and pulled, but it didn’t budge.

  His brows furrowed.

  Frowning, he braced one foot against the knight’s shoulder and tugged harder. The visor was stuck, almost as if it was fused to the body beneath it.

  With a grunt, he gave one final, forceful pull, and the helmet came loose.

  For a second, he felt triumphant.

  Then, he saw what was underneath.

  And his stomach turned.

  The knight’s face was unrecognizable.

  Where there was supposed to have been flesh, bone, and skin, there was instead a grotesque fusion of metal and human remains. Silver had seeped into the ruined tissue and spread across the surface.

  The eyes were long gone and replaced with hollow sockets where the crimson glow had once burned.

  The mouth was twisted, with the lips melted into an eternal grimace and fused with the remnants of the visor.

  Chael felt bile rise in his throat.

  This had been a man once. Chael was already aware of this fact but because of their soulless and unhuman nature, he didn’t really care much about it and pushed the thought to the back of his mind

  He dropped the helmet with a quiet, metallic clang.

  Chael took one last look at the grotesque remains beneath the discarded helmet, and then he let out a slow breath and pushed himself up. The nausea still clung to his stomach, but he forced it aside and gripped his spear before stepping forward.

  He needed to move. Dwelling on this horror wouldn’t change anything.

  But just as he began to press on, something stopped him.

  Standing directly ahead, in the center of the corridor, was one of the taller Hollowed Choir.

  This wasn’t one of the black-robed figures that he had fought. This was one of the figures that stood at the back and controlled the smaller ones. It was clad in deep violet, its tattered robes flowing around its skeletal frame like a shadow-given form. Its hollow sockets were filled with seeping ice pouring out from beneath a black hood, and in its withered hands, it clutched a twisted staff of pale wood which was crowned with a pulsating blue crystal that flickered eerily in the dim light.

  Chael’s grip on his spear immediately tightened.

  Back at the entrance of the cathedral, their chants alone had nearly killed him.

  But now, he had one of them alone.

  His lips curled into a sneer and his voice carried a sadistic edge. "Not so terrifying without your little choir, are you?"

  He took a slow step forward and raised his spear, closing their distance slowly.

  But before he could take another step, the creature opened its mouth.

  A guttural and inhuman chant poured from its throat.

  Shan’thura.

  The words slithered through the air like a physical force and it seemed to fill the corridor with a chilling resonance.

  Chael’s eyes narrowed.

  The words meant nothing to him since he didn’t understand this god-forsaken ancient language, but the power behind them was unmistakable.

  Chael's ears suddenly perked and picked a faint shift of metal from behind.

  Every muscle in Chael’s body went rigid.

  His breath caught, and in the fraction of a second, before he turned, a terrible realization struck him.

  He knew what he was going to see.

  He whipped around.

  And there, rising from the cold stone floor, its body twitching with unnatural spasms, the knight stood again.

  Except now, its visor was missing. Its hollow sockets glowed with a haunting red light which was much brighter than before. Though it wasn’t as bright or menacing as the Hellfire Sentinel’s, it still burned like coals from a fiery abyss.

  The melted silver that had fused with its flesh now pulsed with an oily black aura and seeped like smoke from the cracks in its armor.

  Chael’s eyes quivered, his heart pounding in his chest.

  This wasn’t just resurrection.

  The knight had become something far more dangerous.