Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 69: BATTLE OF WILLS

Chapter 69: BATTLE OF WILLS

Dawn broke over the corruption zone with unnatural colors—a violet and crimson sunrise that painted the assembled army in shades of dried blood. The air vibrated with tension as thousands of warriors stood in formation, their breath creating clouds of steam in the chill morning air. Many had been unable to sleep, haunted by the grotesque landscape that awaited them.

Shia stood at the vanguard, her silver armor now embellished with runes of containment—hastily inscribed protection against the corruption they were about to face. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her sleepless night, not from fear of battle, but from the weight of what she had witnessed—and what she now had to do.

"He’s still in there," she whispered to herself. "But for how long?"

Reed’s transformation had been seared into her mind. The way his body had embraced the corruption, channeling it rather than succumbing to it. The golden-red light that had replaced the sickly violet glow of Vrashtor’kaal’s influence. It defied everything they understood about the corruption’s nature, yet aligned perfectly with the ancient texts she’d studied about the Unmaker.

Lord Vexior approached, his pale features composed despite the horror that lay ahead. "The artifact bearers are in position, Commander. The containment ritual can begin once we breach the inner perimeter."

Around them, five noble lords from different kingdoms stood ready, each bearing one of the artifacts recovered from ancient vaults. Like pieces of a puzzle, the artifacts had been distributed according to Reed’s instructions at the council. What none had realized then—what perhaps only Reed had known—was that the bearers were being slowly corrupted by the very items they carried.

"And what of Reed?" Vexior asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Shia’s hand tightened on her sword hilt. "If we find him... if he’s still himself, we extract him. If not..." She couldn’t finish the sentence.

The necromancer nodded, understanding the unspoken command. "My death-seers have performed the rituals. They say a consciousness still fights within the corruption’s heart. Whether it’s still Reed or something wearing his form, they cannot tell."

Horns sounded along the line—deep, resonant notes that signaled the advance. The massive army began to move forward in disciplined formations. Engineers had worked through the night to create walkways over the most corrupted ground, while mages maintained barriers against the mutagenic effects of the environment.

"For the Seven Kingdoms!" shouted Commander Talon as the first wave crashed against the outer defenses of the corruption zone.

The response was immediate and horrifying. The ground itself rose up in defense—massive tentacles of earth and corrupt flesh erupting to impale the front ranks. Creatures that defied natural law swarmed from hidden burrows—some crawling on too many limbs, others floating above the ground with bodies that seemed to fold in on themselves in impossible geometries.

"Press forward!" Shia commanded, her voice amplified by enchantment. "Shield bearers, maintain the formation!"

The battle devolved into chaotic brutality within minutes. Soldiers who fell to the corrupted creatures began to transform almost immediately—their bodies twisting and reshaping as Vrashtor’kaal’s influence took hold. The army had been prepared for this horror; specially designated "mercy units" moved through the ranks, ending the suffering of their fallen comrades before the transformation could complete.

Amidst the chaos, Shia led her elite strike team toward the center of the corruption zone. They moved with supernatural speed, enhanced by ancient magic from the forest realms. Their objective was clear—reach the Temple of Convergence, find Reed, and determine if salvation or execution was required.

"The artifacts are responding to proximity!" called Lady Elyriana, one of the bearers who accompanied Shia’s team. The ornate bracelet on her wrist pulsed with energy, resonating with the other artifacts carried by lords positioned strategically throughout the battlefield.

Shia nodded grimly. "Just as Reed predicted. When the five artifacts are arranged in the proper formation, they create a field that can contain the corruption—temporarily, at least."

What Reed hadn’t told them—what Shia had discovered in ancient texts during the night—was that containment wasn’t their true purpose. The artifacts were keys, not locks. They didn’t imprison; they opened doors.

Deep within the heart of the corruption zone, Reed fought a battle beyond physical comprehension. His consciousness existed in a realm between worlds—a mental landscape where his will clashed directly with the ancient entity that sought to possess him completely.

You resist what you cannot understand, the voice of Vrashtor’kaal reverberated through his mind. It spoke not in words but in concepts that burned themselves into Reed’s thoughts. Your form is already mine. Your mind will follow.

Around Reed’s mental projection, the landscape shifted constantly—memories from his life twisted into nightmarish parodies. His childhood in the goblin warrens transformed into writhing tunnels of flesh. His evolution and rise to leadership became a metamorphosis into something inhuman and terrible.

Yet Reed fought back, drawing strength from unexpected sources. His goblin heritage—once considered primitive by the human kingdoms—provided barriers the ancient consciousness couldn’t easily penetrate. The goblin mind, evolved for survival in harsh conditions, possessed natural defenses against outside influence.

"You don’t understand what you’re facing," Reed projected back, his mental voice growing stronger. "Goblins were shaped by the Progenitors as weapons—designed to adapt and overcome. My people survived because we could evolve faster than the corruption could consume us."

The entity’s presence pulsed with rage and curiosity. Your form is different. Unpredicted. But all flesh yields eventually.

Reed had been physically transformed by the Sphere of Dominion, his body now a grotesque blend of goblin, human, and corruption—skin hardened into carapace in some places, translucent and veined with golden-red light in others. He hung suspended in the center of the growing beacon structure, connected to it by thousands of tendrils that both drew power from him and attempted to override his will.

Yet his mind remained his own—battered but unbroken. The corruption that should have dissolved his consciousness had instead been harnessed, redirected by the artifact embedded in his chest. Each attempt by Vrashtor’kaal to consume his identity was met with fierce resistance.

The others come, the entity communicated with malicious satisfaction. The artifact bearers approach. The pattern will be complete.

Reed’s mental focus sharpened at this. The pattern—the ritual that Reed himself had orchestrated at the council. The positioning of the artifacts that he had claimed would seal away the awakening entity.

What terrible truth had he discovered too late?

Shia’s strike team fought their way through increasingly dense waves of corrupted defenders. The closer they came to the center, the more organized the resistance became—suggesting intelligence rather than mindless aggression.

"They’re protecting something!" shouted Krev, the evolved goblin warrior who had insisted on joining Shia’s mission. His loyalty to Reed overrode all fears of corruption. "Or someone!"

The beacon structure loomed before them—massive bone-like spires curving toward a central point where a pulsing light grew steadily brighter. The corrupted creatures formed concentric rings of defense around it, becoming more powerful and more grotesquely transformed the closer they were to the center.

"There!" Lady Elyriana pointed with her artifact-bearing arm. The bracelet’s glow intensified, resonating with something at the structure’s heart. "Something at the center is responding to the artifacts!"

Through gaps in the massive structure, Shia caught glimpses of a suspended figure—Reed, or what remained of him. His body had been transformed beyond recognition, yet somehow she knew it was still him. Something in the way the golden-red light pulsed within his corrupted form spoke of conscious control rather than surrender.

"The artifact bearers must take their positions!" she commanded. "Form the pentagram pattern as Reed instructed!"

Across the battlefield, the other lords bearing artifacts received the signal. Despite heavy fighting, they began to move into the prescribed formation—five points forming a perfect pentagon around the beacon structure. As each bearer took their position, their artifact activated, sending beams of light toward the center where Reed hung suspended.

"Once the containment field is established, we advance to extract Reed," Shia instructed her team. "Those corrupted beyond saving will be given mercy. Any who can be saved—"

Her words died as the pattern completed. The five artifacts projected their energy toward Reed, creating a dome of shimmering force that enclosed the beacon structure. But instead of containing the corruption as promised, the barrier began to rotate, its energies spiraling inward toward Reed’s suspended form.

"No!" Shia gasped in horror as understanding dawned. "It’s not containing—it’s channeling!"

Reed had misled them—whether intentionally or because he himself had been deceived. The artifact pattern didn’t seal away Vrashtor’kaal’s power; it focused it, concentrating the corruption into a single point.

Into Reed himself.

Within the mental battleground, Reed felt the surge of power as the artifacts activated in their pattern. The entity’s presence swelled, feeding on the channeled energy.

Yes! Vrashtor’kaal’s thoughts thundered triumphantly. The Convergence begins! My brethren will awaken!

Reed fought desperately against the overwhelming pressure. His mental defenses—the unique goblin resistance to outside influence—began to splinter under the onslaught. Memories fragmented and reassembled with alien elements intruding. His sense of self began to dissolve at the edges.

Yet in this moment of near-defeat, Reed accessed something deeper—a racial memory buried in goblin blood. The Progenitors had created goblins not merely as servants but as a safeguard. Their accelerated evolution wasn’t just for survival; it was a weapon against the very entities now attempting to re-enter the world.

"You’ve made a critical error," Reed projected, gathering his fragmenting consciousness into a concentrated point of resistance. "The Sphere of Dominion doesn’t just control corruption—it can reverse it."

With monumental effort, Reed seized control of the artifact embedded in his chest. The Sphere pulsed, its energies shifting from absorption to projection. The golden-red light within Reed’s transformed body intensified, fighting back against the sickly violet of Vrashtor’kaal’s corruption.

IMPOSSIBLE! the entity raged as the flow of power began to reverse. The pattern is absolute! The Convergence cannot be denied!

"Watch me," Reed snarled, both mentally and through his transformed vocal cords. His physical body, suspended at the center of the beacon, began to convulse as the battle of wills manifested in the physical realm.

Outside, Shia and her strike team watched in horror and awe as Reed’s suspended form became the center of a war between energies—corrupt violet battling against the golden-red glow that emanated from the Sphere of Dominion embedded in his chest.

"What’s happening?" demanded Krev, fighting off a corrupted defender that had broken through their line.

"He’s fighting it," Shia whispered, understanding dawning. "He’s trying to reverse the channeling process."

The entire battlefield seemed to pause as the titanic struggle at the center of the beacon structure intensified. The five artifact bearers stood locked in place, unable to break the pattern now that it had been established. Energy flowed from them to Reed, but instead of completing Vrashtor’kaal’s awakening, Reed was somehow redirecting it.

"We need to reach him!" Shia shouted, rallying her team. "Whatever he’s doing, he can’t sustain it alone!"

They fought with renewed vigor, cutting through the corrupted defenders whose movements had become erratic and uncoordinated—as though the controlling intelligence was distracted by a greater battle.

As they neared the central chamber where Reed hung suspended, a massive tremor shook the entire structure. Cracks appeared in the bone-like spires, oozing viscous fluid that hissed when it touched the ground.

"He’s damaging it!" one of Shia’s warriors exclaimed. "The beacon is failing!"

They finally broke through to the central chamber, fighting off the last desperate defenders. Shia rushed forward, weapon ready, unsure whether she would find Reed or a monster wearing his form.

What she saw froze her in place.

Reed hung in the center of the chamber, his body a battleground of transformation. Half of him blazed with the golden-red light of the Sphere’s power, while the other half writhed with Vrashtor’kaal’s corruption. His face—what remained of it—contorted in agony and effort. When his eyes found Shia, a flash of recognition sparked within them.

"Reed?" she called, taking a step forward.

His voice, when it came, was barely recognizable—a grinding, multi-tonal sound that seemed to come from multiple throats at once.

"The artifacts... were a trap," he managed to say. "But the trap... works both ways. I’ve seized the connection. I can redirect it. Send it back."

"Back where?" Shia asked, approaching cautiously.

"To its source. Beyond the veil." Reed’s body convulsed again, more violently. "But I can’t hold it. The goblin resistance... is failing."

Understanding crashed down on Shia. "You’re using your goblin heritage to fight the corruption. But how long can you maintain it?"

Reed’s transformed face twisted into what might have been a smile. "Not long enough. Unless..."

Another violent tremor shook the structure. Outside, the sounds of battle intensified as the army engaged a fresh wave of corrupted defenders.

"Unless what, Reed?" Shia demanded, sensing time running out.

"Unless we complete the true ritual," Reed gasped. "Not the one they taught me... but the one hidden in goblin blood. The Progenitors left us a weapon... inside us."

His partially corrupted hand reached out toward Shia, offering something that glowed with the same golden-red light as the uncorrupted parts of his body.

"Take my blood... bring it to the other evolved goblins," he managed to say. "When combined with the blood of five evolved goblin leaders... it will create the true countermeasure."

As Shia reached for the glowing vial of Reed’s blood, his body suddenly went rigid. The battle between energies intensified, and when Reed spoke again, his voice had changed—layered with something ancient and terrible.

"SHE LIES TO YOU," the voice thundered, no longer entirely Reed’s. "THE BLOOD RITUAL WILL NOT SAVE BUT CONDEMN. I AM THE LAST DEFENSE AGAINST THE TRUE UNMAKER!"

Reed’s body convulsed again, and the voice shifted back to something more recognizable. "Don’t listen! It’s trying to prevent—" His words cut off as another spasm wracked his form.

Shia stood frozen, the vial of glowing blood in her hand, faced with an impossible choice. Was she speaking to Reed fighting against possession, or to Vrashtor’kaal wearing Reed’s consciousness like a mask? Was the blood ritual salvation or damnation?

Behind her, the strike team battled the remaining defenders while the beacon structure continued to fracture around them. She had seconds to decide—trust Reed’s plan or destroy what he had become.

Reed’s eyes locked with hers one final time, and in them she saw something flicker—a code they had established before the mission, a signal only they would recognize if one became compromised.

But the signal was incomplete, cut off as Reed’s consciousness submerged once more beneath the battle of wills raging within him.

The vial pulsed in Shia’s hand, demanding a decision.