Story Title :- idle guy
Chapter 17: Echoes of the Spire
The sun never rose in the wastelands beyond Velmor. A blood-hued twilight clung to the sky like dried paint, casting long shadows across the endless dunes of glass and ash. Kael and Lira marched forward in silence, each step crunching against remnants of a civilization that had been consumed by Riftfire long ago.
In the distance loomed their destination: the Spire of Serevon.
Not just a monument—but a wound in reality itself.
Lira adjusted the strap on her shoulder, glancing sideways. “You said the Rift showed you the Spire?”
Kael nodded. “A version of it. I don’t know if it was the future, or a warning.”
“And the crown?” she asked.
Kael hesitated. The memory of the dream still clung to him—his older self with the Crown of Wills, sitting atop a throne of corpses. “It's not just a key to the Spire. It’s a prison lock… and a curse.”
The Descent
At the Spire’s base, a swirling vortex of energy pulsed between fractured pillars—ancient, jagged, and inscribed with runes older than any kingdom.
Kael approached the edge and pressed his palm against the glyph-covered arch.
The symbols lit up one by one, responding to his blood.
Lira took a step back. “You’re sure about this?”
“No,” Kael said. “But I’m done running from what I am.”
The stone groaned.
A spiral staircase unfurled downward into the dark like a serpent uncoiling.
Beneath the Surface
The interior of the Spire was colder than death. As they descended, Kael’s breath misted with frost, despite the Riftflame glowing from his palm.
The walls were glass-like and filled with moving images—memories, maybe… or warnings. One showed a massive battle—mages with burning wings battling Rift-born horrors.
Another showed a woman with silver eyes cradling a child wrapped in light. Kael paused.
“That’s…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. The child looked just like him.
Lira stepped beside him. “Your mother?”
“Or a version of her,” he whispered. “Or maybe it’s me that doesn’t belong in this time.”
The Sentinel of Bones
At the bottom of the stair, a massive chamber opened into view, illuminated by suspended orbs of Riftlight. At its center stood a throne—this one shattered, broken. And standing before it, a figure wrapped in robes of stitched skin and bone, wielding a staff crowned with seven screaming skulls.
“The Deadking,” Lira whispered. “I thought he was just myth.”
Kael stepped forward. “Then let’s make him real.”
The Deadking turned.
“Child of the Rift,” his voice rasped, echoing across the chamber. “Why do you disturb the sanctum of Time?”
Kael raised his blade. “Because time has been bleeding, and I intend to stitch it closed.”
The Deadking laughed, and the walls groaned with it.
“So naive. You carry the Crown, but you are still bound by mercy. That will be your doom.”
Kael charged.
Clash of Ancient Powers
The Deadking summoned bones from the ground, forming armored wights that struck with spears of soulglass. Kael weaved between them, his Nullsong Blade cutting through the unnatural metal like cloth. Lira hurled bolts of chained lightning, her eyes glowing with raw power.
But the Deadking was different.
He didn’t move so much as unfold, disappearing into shadows and reemerging from fractured light. His staff struck once—Kael barely dodged, but the impact carved a trench in the stone.
“You are not the first Chosen to challenge me,” he hissed.
Kael flared his aura, Riftflame cascading from his shoulders. “Then let me be the last.”
Tipping the Balance
Lira was wounded—a shard of bone buried in her side. Kael snarled, rage bubbling over. He let go of restraint. He let the Rift in.
Time slowed.
The air burned.
His eyes turned fully black, and his blade ignited with voidfire. He moved faster than thought, appearing behind the Deadking and plunging the blade into his back.
The Deadking howled—but smiled as he turned to ash.
“Fool,” his voice echoed. “I was only a fragment.”
Kael dropped to one knee, panting.
The chamber began to collapse.
Ascension
At the center of the throne’s remains, a new staircase revealed itself—spiraling not downward, but up, toward the true core of the Spire.
Kael helped Lira to her feet.
“Still want to come?” he asked.
She smirked, blood on her lips. “Not letting you have all the glory.”
As they climbed, the Spire began to hum.
Something was awakening.
And it was waiting for him.
End of Chapter 17
