Kelvin headed off to Dusthaven limping, with his spear serving as a supporter, as he moved Mara’s words kept a steady rhythm in his mind; follow the pipeline, avoid the craters, stay low while going and trust no one.
This rules are simple but they are brutal rules for surviving a world that no longer know rcy. His thigh burned in pain with every step, this was a reminder of the Riftspawn swarms with acidic bite.
The cloth bindings that is tied around the wound had been soaked through with blood and pus, this seems more like infection looms around but Kelvin was determined so he pressed forward
Kelvin’s fingers clenched tighter around his spear, the once-polished shaft is now pitted with scratches and gri. The Sigil of the Overlord pulsed like a heart of molten iron beneath his torn sleeve, a ceaseless and increased beat like that of alien heat.
He didn’t need to touch it to feel its presence anymore. It was a second pulse in his veins, a parasite because he feels more like he is been burdened with it, a curse but indeed a power that every man seeks but not Kelvin.
Xerion’s voice rumbled like a storm that is caught in his skull."Unleash , Heir and let the world burn. These world are yours to command."
Kelvin pressed his hand against his temple as his breath ragged rapidly. "Shut up," Kelvin muttered under his breath. "I am not your heir. I’m just trying to live," He said.
"You call this living?" Xerion mocked. "You crawl through dust and filth while your enemies grow bold while power begs to be wielded."
Kelvin shook his head violently, trying to shove the voice of Xerion down. Mara’s warning echoed in his thoughts like a ghost’s whisper: Ta or be torn apart. He wasn’t ready and he can’t be.
The rusted pipeline snaked through the ash dunes like a dead serpent that its belly is half-buried in sand, pitted with holes where ti and storms had eaten through. Kelvin tipped behind it, panting and scanning the horizon.
Dusthaven won’t take more than a day to get to if he kept moving but the distance had a way of stretching the ti, they squeezed hours into eternities and turned minutes into death traps, Kelvin thought to himself.
The wind shifted as tremor crawled up from the soles of his boots. This ti is not a thunder, not even a wind but it seems like sothing else that is dangerous. At that point Kelvin froze as the hairs on his neck bristled.
"Danger," Xerion said, this ti he was very gentle. "Blood approaches."
Imdiately the sigil flared, Kelvin held back his tears as heat seared through his arm. He stood to watch when a shadow surged from behind a dune.
A wiry scavenger with his face half-hidden beneath a leather mask erged, he brought a spiked club down in a deadly arc.
Imdiately Kelvin rolled aside but the club scratched his shoulder and tore a fabric, Kelvin felt a hot pain but adrenaline pushed the pain down.
He stood well thrusting his spear at the scavenger. The iron tip sliced across the attacker’s forearm and he moaned.
When that happened, more shadows rose from the dunes, five to six n with hunger in their eyes and weapons in their hands.
Kelvin looked to see if he could recognize them and at that point he realized that these were survivors from the bunker, Vark’s crew.
At that point a voice snarled from the rear. "Are you still breathing, rat?" Kelvin could recognize the voice, it was Vark’s voice and his blood ran cold.
Imdiately the gang leader stepped into view, his face was like a twisted landscape of old wounds and new hate. The machete he once attacked with was gone but this ti he replaced it by a two-headed axe with Riftstone embedded in the shank.
At his side one can see a creature that turned Kelvin’s stomach, a Riftborn wyrm, serpentine and oily-black, its body glistening with sickly mucus. Its fangs dripped venom that stead where it touched the sand. Runes glowed violet along its spine with a crude binding.
"Give the sigil," Vark said, lips peeling back in a grin. "Or I let Serthis chew your bones." By Serthis he ant the Riftborn wyrm. Imdiately, Kelvin took so steps back against the pipeline with his spear raised. "You don’t want it," he said. "You have no idea what it is."
Vark laughed. "I know it gives power. That’s enough. And your blood? That is just an extra."The wyrm hissed.
"Unleash ," Xerion demanded of Kelvin. "Rip the imposter limb from limb."
"No!" Kelvin hissed through his clenched teeth. "I can fight them"
A rifle cracked and a bullet went off the pipeline so inches from Kelvin’s head. Another scavenger lunged out with a blade raised.
Kelvin twisted himself, deflecting with his spear and then drove it forward. The blade punched into the attacker’s gut. He twisted it, yanked it free and blood gushed.
"Enough!" Vark barked. He snapped his fingers.
The wyrm surged forward with terrifying speed. Its coils stirred the sand. His venom sprayed in arcs. The acidic droplets splashed on the ground where he stood, panting and fidgeting but he imdiately moved to the left hand side to avoid coming in contact with the acidic droplet from the wyrm.
He scrambled to his feet, barely avoiding a snapping jaw. He jabbed at its eye, but the spear bounced off showing the scaled armor. A tail like a whip cracked into his ribs and sent him flying into the pipeline.
Pain exploded through his chest. His spear dashed away. Imdiately the scavengers circled him.
The sigil blazed. Xerion roared.
Kelvin’s vision warped. Reality twisted around him. The sigil erupted in light, a pillar of molten crimson shooting towards the sky. The heat lted sand to glass. Xerion’s essence surged through him, raw, cataclysmic and unstoppable.
At that mont a claw burst into a being beside him, although not in the full form, but a a silver-like shard, an coal talon wreathed in fla and hunger. It swung as it carved a path through the air.
The wyrm scread. The claw tore through its body like paper, slicing it in half an ichor sprayed like a geyser. The serpent thrashed as the tail jerked before going limp. Its flesh sizzled, devoured by fire.
The scavengers shouted and fled imdiately.
Vark charged with his axe raised, but the claw swatted him aside. His body slamd into the pipeline with a crunch of bones and tal, imdiately he collapsed into a heap that is unmoving.
Kelvin staggered to his knees with his vision spinning. The claw lashed out again, sending ridge of sands flying. Fire rolled in waves and the air were distorted with heat.
"Stop!" Kelvin shouted. "I command you stop!" But Xerion was not listening. Not fully, he was tasting freedom.
Kelvin gritted his teeth, blood dripping was from his lips. He drove his fist into the sand and scread.
"ENOUGH!"
He focused on the sigil, not as a weapon but as a bond. He saw its structure, its weight, its purpose and he willed it to obey.
The claw froze and imdiately crumbled into ashes. Silence were everywhere and the fires have faded away.
Kelvin collapsed, gasping for breath. His body felt hot inside and out. The sigil dimd, its glow were retreating.
Xerion’s voice returned, faint but firm. "You resisted well... for now."
He dragged himself upright, using his spear as a crutch once more. Around him, the battlefield was still stiffened as sand were turned to glass, the wyrm’s corpse was steaming. "Vark’s gang gone or dead" Kelvin thought to himself.
He looked to the horizon, where Dusthaven waited, his jaw clenched.
"I will ta you, Xerion," he whispered. "Before you ta ." The sigil pulsed in reply.
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