Chapter 37: The Abyssal Gate

The gates of the Citadel stood before them, massive and foreboding, carved with symbols that seemed to shift and pulse as though alive. The air was thick with a heavy stillness, broken only by the faint hum of dark energy that radiated from the structure.

Azarion took a step forward, his boots echoing on the obsidian ground. Sera followed close behind, her daggers gripped tightly in her hands. They had crossed the bridge, defeated the shadow-wielder, and now stood at the precipice of their greatest challenge yet.

"This place feels...wrong," Sera muttered, her voice low. "Like it's watching us."

Azarion nodded. He could feel it too. The Citadel wasn't just a fortress; it was alive. The darkness here had a will of its own, and it called to him with every beat of his heart.

"You've come so far," the voice whispered, smooth and enticing. "Why resist now? This is where you belong."

Azarion's jaw tightened. "Enough."

"Talking to yourself again?" Sera asked, eyeing him warily.

"It's the voice of the Abyss," Azarion replied. "It won't stop trying to get in my head. We need to move quickly."

Together, they approached the gate. Up close, the carvings became clearer—twisted depictions of battles, of shadowy figures towering over kneeling masses, and at the center, a robed figure with glowing violet eyes. The depiction sent a chill through Azarion's spine.

"Who is that?" Sera asked, pointing to the robed figure.

Azarion frowned. "I don't know. But it feels familiar...like I've seen it before."

Sera stepped closer to the gate and traced one of the carvings with her fingers. Suddenly, the symbols pulsed with light, and a deep rumbling filled the air. The ground trembled, and the gates groaned as they began to part.

"You might want to step back," Azarion warned, pulling Sera behind him.

As the gates opened, a torrent of darkness poured out, swirling like a living storm. It screeched and wailed, a chorus of tormented voices echoing across the barren landscape. Azarion raised his sword, the flame around it flickering in defiance.

"Be ready for anything," he said, his eyes locked on the shadows.

From within the darkness, figures began to emerge. First came their glowing eyes—dozens of them—followed by twisted forms that slithered and crawled toward them. Some were monstrous beasts, all teeth and claws, while others had vaguely humanoid shapes, their limbs elongated and unnatural.

Sera's grip on her daggers tightened. "This is bad."

Azarion stepped forward, his sword blazing with fire and shadow. "We've faced worse."

The creatures attacked as one, surging forward like a tidal wave. Azarion met them head-on, his blade carving through their ranks. Fire erupted with each swing, incinerating those closest to him, but for every creature he cut down, two more took its place.

Sera danced through the chaos, her daggers slicing with deadly precision. She moved like a shadow, dodging claws and strikes as she landed blow after blow. "Azarion, there's too many!"

"I know!" he shouted back, his voice strained. The battle was taking its toll. His breaths came heavier, and the whispers in his mind grew louder.

"Let us help you," the voice cooed. "Release your limits. Embrace the Abyss, and this will end."

"No!" Azarion roared, slashing through another creature. But his strength was waning. The endless waves of darkness pressed harder, forcing him to his knees.

"Azarion!" Sera screamed, darting to his side. She pulled him to his feet, her face lined with desperation. "We need a plan!"

Azarion's vision blurred, the voice of the Abyss pounding in his skull. It would be so easy to give in, to let the power wash over him and end this fight.

Then he remembered. His grandfather's voice echoed in his mind—words he'd nearly forgotten: "True strength isn't found in power alone, but in the will to stand when everything tells you to fall."

Azarion's eyes snapped open, blazing with renewed determination. "Sera, I'm going to clear a path. When I do, you run for the gate. I'll be right behind you."

"What? Are you insane? You'll get yourself killed!"

"Trust me!" Azarion shouted, raising his sword high. He closed his eyes and let the fire within him ignite. The shadows that clung to his blade flared brighter, merging with the flame until it became a blinding light.

The creatures hesitated, their howls turning to shrieks of fear.

Azarion opened his eyes, his voice ringing out across the battlefield. "Begone!"

He swung his sword in a wide arc, unleashing a blast of energy that ripped through the creatures. The wave of fire and light tore them apart, scattering their forms like ash on the wind.

"Go!" Azarion shouted to Sera.

She hesitated for only a moment before sprinting toward the gate, ducking under the collapsing shadows. Azarion followed, his sword blazing as he cut down any creature that dared stand in his way.

They burst through the gate together, and as soon as they crossed the threshold, the shadows fell silent. The doors slammed shut behind them with a thunderous crash.

Azarion staggered, his sword clattering to the ground as he sank to one knee. His chest heaved with exhaustion, but he was alive.

Sera collapsed beside him, breathing hard. "That was...insane. Are you okay?"

Azarion nodded weakly. "I'm fine. Just...need a moment."

They looked ahead, their gazes falling on the heart of the Citadel. A massive chamber stretched out before them, its walls lined with eerie violet light. At the center stood a throne of black stone, and sitting atop it was a figure cloaked in shadow.

The figure stirred, its glowing eyes locking onto them.

"You've come far," it said, its voice echoing through the chamber. "But this is where your journey ends."

Azarion pushed himself to his feet, his sword blazing once more. "Not yet."

The final confrontation was about to begin.