Spirit Game

Rain's thoughts flickered to his friends, to the ones who had fought beside him, bled beside him. The ones who had given everything to stand against this impossible foe.

He couldn't let their sacrifices be in vain.

But what could he do? He had nothing left to give.

Rain's knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed, but he caught himself at the last second, forcing his body to stay upright through sheer willpower alone.

No . . . I can't let it end like this.

Rain's eyes narrowed, his focus locking onto Balaur's looming form. If this was the end, then he would go down fighting.

Even if he was the last one standing, he would face this god with every ounce of strength he had left.

"This is the end!" Balaur roared, his massive claws raised, poised to strike Rain down in a single blow.

"

Master

!" Ri coughed up blood, desperately trying to drag himself toward Rain, but his injuries were too severe. He could barely move, much less save him.

Rain's vision blurred as he stared at the enormous claws descending toward him. His body was broken, his strength all but gone. If this hit landed, it would truly be the end.

But Rain refused to close his eyes. Even in the face of death, he would not look away. It would be a dishonor to those who sacrificed their lives to the end.

Then, something strange happened. The claws stopped — mid-air, inches from his face.

Rain's heart stopped beating. The world around him stilled, as if time itself had ground to a halt.

. . .

. . .

Huh

?

Rain blinked, confusion washing over him. Time hadn't just slowed — it had truly stopped.

What's . . . what's going on?

A shadow stirred beneath him, extending outward. It stretched farther and farther, swallowing the ground in a hundred-meter radius. It wasn't just any shadow — it was dark, dense, and pulsing with an eerie, malevolent energy.

Kid . . . you've done your best to hang on. Too bad that's not an enemy you could defeat. But fortunately for you, my mistress still has plans for you.

The voice came from the shadow, deep and resonant, as if it echoed from the depths of an endless abyss.

Before Rain could comprehend what was happening, time resumed its normal flow. Balaur, sensing the danger, immediately leaped back, his predatory gaze fixed on the shifting darkness that now dominated the battlefield. His instincts screamed at him to retreat, but it was too late. The shadow swallowed the land, even claiming Balaur's own towering form in its grasp.

From the center of the shadow, a figure began to take shape — a lone rider mounted on a gaunt, skeletal horse. In one hand, the rider held a tall staff, crowned with a set of measuring scales that gleamed with an unnatural light. The rider's body was shrouded in an ancient, tattered cloak, and their eyes — serene, pale, and unblinking — surveyed the scene with eerie calm.

The rider stopped just meters from Rain, the weight of their presence suffocating the air.

With a bony hand, the rider gestured toward Balaur

.

"You are the God of War?"

Balaur, for the first time in his existence, felt something he hadn't experienced in eons —

fear

. His voice wavered as he took a cautious step back, the weight of the rider's presence pressing down on him like an unseen force.

"W-who . . . who are you?" Balaur demanded, his arrogance stripped away, replaced by raw terror.

"We are balance. We are inevitability. We are recompense. We are the end."

The rider's voice was as cold as the void.

"I am one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse . . . I am Famine."

Balaur's blood ran cold. "F-famine?" The god's voice trembled, disbelief coloring his tone.

Rain, too, was stunned, barely managing to hold himself up.

Famine

? Was this the same shadow that belonged to Eve? What was this creature doing here? And why had it appeared now?

Balaur's massive frame shuddered, and he could feel the crushing weight of Famine's power pressing down on him. This was no mere mortal or spirit. This was a force of nature — a being that transcended his understanding. For the first time in centuries, Balaur couldn't gauge the strength of his opponent. It was as though he were staring into the very universe itself.

"I-I've never crossed you!" Balaur stammered, his voice shaking. "Why do you interfere in mortal affairs?"

Famine's expression remained unchanged.

"I do not interfere. I restore balance. Your death will not upset the scales. In fact, your removal will bring them closer to equilibrium. Therefore, your existence . . . is no longer necessary."

Balaur's body tensed, every muscle screaming for him to fight back. "I won't die here! Not to the likes of you!" With a desperate roar, Balaur lunged, aiming to strike Famine down before his fear consumed him.

But Famine did not move. The horseman stood still, his towering form casting an even darker shadow over the terrain.

With deliberate, almost lazy movement, Famine raised his staff and stomped it into the earth. Instantly, a creeping darkness surged from the ground, blotting out even the faintest rays of sunlight. It spread toward Balaur like a living entity, cold and relentless.

Balaur froze as the shadow reached him, engulfing him in its void. He howled in agony as his strength, his very essence, was drained from him. His once-mighty form began to wither, his scales cracking and turning brittle as his life force was siphoned away. His roar of defiance slowly dwindled into a pitiful whimper, and within moments, the fearsome God of War was reduced to nothing but bones.
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Then, in a single breath, even those were swept away by the encroaching darkness, leaving no trace of the dragon god's existence.

The shadow receded, returning to Famine as the first rays of sunlight broke through the heavy clouds. The battlefield was deathly silent, save for the shallow breaths of Rain, the sole witness to the destruction.

Rain's heart pounded in his chest as he fell to his knees. His body was battered, broken, and exhausted. His mind reeled from the sheer weight of what had just transpired. Balaur, the god they had all fought so desperately against, had been annihilated without Famine so much as lifting a finger.

What . . . what just happened?

Rain's thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm. Who was Famine? And more importantly, what was Eve? How could she command such a creature?

Famine turned, his shadowed face unreadable, as he looked down at Rain. The sun's rays could not pierce the veil that obscured the horseman's features.

"Kid, you must grow stronger. Strong enough to survive . . . so that you may serve our mistress for eternity."

With that, Famine and his horse slowly dissolved back into the shadows, retreating into the void from whence they came, leaving the battlefield as desolate as it had been before.

Rain collapsed, his body giving out at last. Relief flooded him as he stared up at the sky. He had lived. They had all lived to fight another day . . . and right now, that was all that mattered.

His vision dimmed, and just before unconsciousness claimed him, he saw movement from the distance — small figures, tiny footsteps of gnomes emerging from the earth, and the faint voices of dwarves descending from the cliffs above.

Then, darkness.