A Hunter's Legacy: Rise of the Fallen
Chapter 28: Awaken chosen of flame

Chapter 28: Awaken chosen of flame

The Fallen lunged. Its grotesque form surged forward with unnatural speed, a blur of contorted limbs and split, oozing skin that glistened under the fractured moonlight filtering through the twisted canopy.

One moment, it had been several meters away, lumbering and twitching as though its body couldn’t decide whether to obey its own commands. The next, it was upon them, a nightmare of jagged bone and writhing muscle, its stench of decay choking the air.Bane barely had time to react.

His instincts, honed by years of bloodshed, kicked in as he grunted and swung his axe in a wide, desperate arc. The blade met resistance—not the yielding tear of flesh, but the unyielding grind of bone. Sparks erupted like tiny stars as the axe’s edge scraped along the creature’s exposed ribcage, the impact reverberating through Bane’s arms. The force sent the Fallen stumbling sideways, its snarling maw contorted in a grotesque parody of rage, its glowing eyes flickering with something that might have been pain—or defiance.

Phil didn’t hesitate. He moved like water over stone, fluid and deliberate, his black-bladed scythe already slicing through the air with eerie precision. The weapon was an extension of him, its curved blade catching the dim light as it carved a shallow wound across the creature’s gnarled shoulder. Pale, corrupted blood hissed as it spilled to the ground, sizzling where it touched the earth, burning through dirt and root like acid eating through metal. The air grew acrid, stinging Bane’s nostrils as he steadied himself.

The Fallen shrieked. Its voice was wrong—an unholy cacophony of too many tones colliding, as if multiple mouths were trying to scream through a single, malformed throat. The sound clawed at their minds, a jagged assault that made Bane’s skin crawl and his grip on the axe falter for a fraction of a second."Baaaane... Ppphhh... hil..." Bane froze, his blood turning to ice. It knew their names.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, his heart hammering against his ribs as the creature’s glowing eyes locked onto his. There was intelligence there—not just the feral cunning of a predator, but something deeper, something that recognized them."Did that thing just—?" Bane’s voice was hoarse, disbelief warring with the adrenaline pumping through him."Don’t let it talk," Phil snapped, his voice sharp and cold as the edge of his scythe. "They remember voices. Faces and pain by prying into your mind."The Fallen launched itself again, faster this time, its movements disturbingly coordinated. It ducked under Bane’s next swing with an agility that shouldn’t have been possible for something so broken-looking. A jagged claw, protruding from its twisted arm, raked across Bane’s side. His Vanguard coat tore like parchment, the fabric offering no resistance to the creature’s unnatural strength.

Pain bloomed hot and immediate across his ribs, a fire that threatened to steal his breath. Bane staggered, one hand clutching the wound as blood seeped through his fingers, warm and sticky. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep his stance, his axe raised despite the burning agony.Phil was already behind the beast, a shadow in motion. With a sharp twist of his body, he brought the scythe in a wide, graceful arc, aiming for the creature’s neck. But the Fallen ducked again, its movements eerily precise, as if it had anticipated the strike.Bane blinked, his vision swimming slightly from the pain. "It’s adapting.""Faster than it should," Phil growled, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his grip on the scythe. "It’s been exposed to something... we need to end this fast."

The Fallen screeched, retreating a few steps, its grotesque form trembling as if struggling to hold itself together. Its spine cracked audibly, arching at an unnatural angle, the sound like splintering wood echoing through the silent forest. The flesh along its torso rippled and tore, new limbs splitting from its back—gnarled, twitching appendages that dripped with black ooze, each movement accompanied by a sickening squelch.

One of its hands swelled grotesquely, fingers fusing into a jagged blade of bone, gleaming wetly in the dim light.Bane’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "What the hell...?""It’s mutating again," Phil hissed, his voice low and urgent. "Mid-combat. That’s not normal."The Fallen turned its glowing eyes on Bane, their eerie light piercing through the darkness.

"Hunter... born of war... chosen of flame... Awaken...!" The words struck something deep inside Bane, something buried beneath years of battle and survival. His vision doubled, the world around him blurring as his heart pounded like a war drum, each beat resonating in his chest. The trees around him seemed to pulse, their gnarled branches swaying faintly as if responding to some unseen call. A whisper curled in his ear—not the Fallen’s distorted voice, but something older, primal, and impossibly vast.—Unchain me. Let them see—.Bane roared, the sound raw and guttural, as he swung his axe with newfound force. Fire danced along the blade—not the elemental fire of a Vanguard’s standard weaponry, but something older, something alive. The axe gleamed with a faint orange light, its edge howling as it cut through the air. When it struck the Fallen, the impact was cataclysmic, the blade shearing clean through half of the creature’s twisted arm. The severed limb hit the ground with a wet thud, still twitching as black ooze pooled beneath it.

Phil spared him a glance, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Your weapon just woke up.""I felt it," Bane said through gritted teeth, his eyes glowing faintly with the same flickering light as the axe. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced—a surge of power that felt both foreign and intrinsic, as if the weapon had been waiting for this moment.

The creature tried to retreat, its remaining limbs scrabbling against the earth, but Phil was already moving. His cloak rippled in the windless air, the fabric seeming to shimmer with an unnatural life of its own. He spun the scythe once, a fluid motion that was almost hypnotic, then planted his foot firmly and whispered a word in a language Bane didn’t understand—something ancient, guttural, and heavy with intent.The sigils etched into the scythe blazed to life, pale green and violet flames licking along the blade’s edge, casting eerie shadows across the clearing. The air grew sharp, charged with an energy that made Bane’s skin prickle."Time to end this," Phil said, his voice cold and resolute.

The creature lunged once more, its movements desperate and furious, its bony blade lashing toward Phil’s throat. But it never connected.Phil vanished. For a heartbeat, he was simply gone, as if the shadows had swallowed him whole.

Then he reappeared behind the Fallen, mid-strike, his scythe already in motion. The blade carved a massive crescent through the creature’s back, bone shattering and flesh parting with a sickening crunch.

The Fallen shrieked, spinning wildly, its glowing eyes wide with panic, but Phil was relentless.

He twisted again, the scythe sweeping low in a second, devastating cut.The creature’s legs gave out, severed cleanly at the knees. It collapsed, twitching and bleeding corruption, its pale blood hissing as it ate into the earth.

Phil stood over it, breathing evenly, his eyes dark and unyielding.

The Fallen lifted its head, its voice a fading whisper. "We... hunger... still..."

Without hesitation, Phil drove the scythe down, the blade piercing through the creature’s skull with a final, decisive crunch. The light in its eyes flickered and died.

Silence descended, heavy and oppressive, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the distant wind.

Bane dropped to one knee, his breath ragged. Blood soaked his side, seeping through his torn coat, but he was alive. The pain was a dull roar now, secondary to the adrenaline still coursing through him.

He pressed a hand to his ribs, wincing as he felt the extent of the wound.Phil stood still for several seconds, his gaze fixed on the mangled corpse before he pulled his scythe free.

The weapon’s glow faded, the sigils dimming as if retreating into dormancy. He wiped the blade of his scythe clean on his cloak, his movements precise and unhurried.

"That wasn’t just a mutation," Bane said slowly, his voice rough.

"That thing knew us.""It was watching through something else," Phil said grimly, his eyes scanning the darkened trees.

"It’s not just the Fallen anymore. Something deeper is moving them. Coordinating. Speaking through them."Bane’s grip on his axe tightened, his knuckles whitening.

The flickering glow in the axe had vanished, but he could still feel it—a latent power resting just beneath the surface, waiting to be called again.

"What did it mean by chosen of flame?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Phil didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze lingered on Bane, as if weighing something unspoken. Then, finally

"I Don’t know "The wind shifted, carrying a new scent through the clearing—smoke, blood, and something older, like ancient stone and forgotten rituals.

Bane’s senses sharpened, his instincts screaming that they weren’t alone.

"There’s more of them, isn’t there?" he said, his voice low as he rose to his feet, ignoring the pain in his side.

"Probably," Phil muttered, his own senses attuned to the unnatural stillness of the forest.

"But if this thing was near here... Garrik can’t be far."They both turned toward the deeper stretch of forest, where the trees bent unnaturally, their branches clawing at the sky. The light seemed to die there, swallowed by a darkness that felt alive, watchful.

"Then we keep moving," Bane said, his voice steady despite the blood still seeping from his wound.Phil nodded, his expression unreadable.

"And hope we’re not too late."They vanished into the trees, their footsteps silent against the corrupted earth, leaving only the mangled corpse of the Fallen behind.

It twitched faintly, as if something within refused to die, its pale blood still hissing in the dirt.