The Rebirth Of The Beast Tamer-Chapter 189: The War of The Den 4
The Hollow was dying. Not slowly and not peacefully. It was tearing itself apart while collapsing inward with the fury of a world unmade.
The first pulse of destruction came like a breath that was sucked in by a dying god, air, ash, and screaming wind dragged toward the center where the Heart of the Hollow had once beat.
Every corpse, every altar, every splinter of bone began to spiral inward, pulled into a black void forming where Vark had fallen.
The ground tilted beneath their feet. "MOVE!" Kelvin roared, grabbing Lyra by the arm as the ledge beneath them disintegrated.
The pull of the implosion nearly tore her from his grasp, but he anchored himself with his sword driven deep into the flesh-like wall. Xerion coiled around them both with its flames dimming to embers as it strained to hold steady.
Below, rivers of green ichor reversed direction, flowing upward toward the collapsing core. Bodies of the undead twisted midair, limbs flailing as they were swallowed by the growing void.
The sound was nightmarish like ten thousand souls being inhaled at once. Darius bellowed over the noise. "The fissures are over there! We climb!"
He pointed toward a jagged rift where stone and bone met, splitting upward toward a distant glimmer of light that is faint but real, which was their only way out.
They ran, slipping on viscous ground that pulsed and writhed. Each step sank slightly, as if the Den was still lived and tried to drag them down in its final death.
Rhoam hacked a path ahead, his axe biting into the wall, carving holds where no natural rock existed. "Climb, damn it! Before this whole pit eats itself!"
Darius was the first to start scaling, his shield slung behind him, one arm pulling, one pushing Lyra upward. Kelvin followed last, still gripping Xerion’s fading body close to his chest. The beast was weakening, its flames was flickering dangerously low.
Lyra glanced down and said. "He can’t make it!" "He will," Kelvin snapped with his jaw tight. But his eyes betrayed him with fear flickering there, not for himself, but for his bondmate.
The fissure shuddered. Chunks of ceiling fell, some where as large as wagons, smashing into the ledges below. Ichor rained from above like acid.
One glob struck Kelvin’s shoulder; the flesh hissed and burned, the stench of charred skin filling the air. He gritted his teeth and kept climbing.
Behind them, the Hollow’s roar grew louder. The implosion was accelerating. The very air that vibrated with it.
Halfway up, a slab of bone above them cracked loose and fell, striking the wall. The shockwave threw Rhoam sideways, nearly tearing him free. Darius caught him with one hand, roaring as his shoulder dislocated from the force.
"I have got you! Climb, damn it!" "I am climbing, you stubborn ox!" Rhoam spat, hauling himself up with a grimace.
Kelvin looked back down the fissure. The void was expanding faster now with its pull so strong that it began dragging stones and bones up the wall.
Xerion roared weakly, wrapping its tail around Kelvin to brace him and then its form flickered, breaking apart into tongues of fire.
"Xerion...NO!" Kelvin screamed, feeling their bond strain like a thread stretched to breaking. The beast’s mind-voice echoed faintly. Go, Kelvin... My flame is yours now. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
And with that, the serpent burst into embers, its body unraveling, the fire streaming into Kelvin’s chest. He gasped as heat and grief collided within him with eyes blazing blue with the final echo of Xerion’s power.
The cavern shook harder. Their footholds began to crumble. Kelvin looked up and the others had reached the final stretch.
But the fissure above them was collapsing, stone while folding inward like clenched fingers. Someone had to hold it open. He knew it instantly.
"Go!" Kelvin shouted. Lyra froze mid-climb. "What? No...Kelvin, what are you....." "Get out! I will keep it open!"
He raised both hands, channeling Xerion’s lingering flame through the cracks. The heat erupted upward while burning through the falling debris, holding the collapsing walls apart. It was not a shield, it was sheer will, a wall of living fire.
But it was also a suicide. "Kelvin, don’t you dare!" Lyra screamed, trying to climb back down. "Lyra, if you come down, we all die!"
She ignored him. Darius caught her wrist before she could descend, his voice thunderous. "He is right! Don’t waste his sacrifice!" Tears streaked down her soot-stained face. "He is not dying here! Not like this!"
She ripped her arm free and raised her bow which was shattered though it was. She pressed the broken limb to her chest, whispering a prayer to Salaris. "One more storm."
A dark wind surged from Lyra’s bow, wrapping around Kelvin’s fire, reinforcing it with shadow and current. The collapsing stone froze midair, suspended between flame and wind.
Kelvin’s head snapped up. Their eyes met through the fire with unspoken words passing between them. Gratitude, determination and love.
Darius roared from above, slamming his hammer into the fissure’s wall. The blow split the rock, creating a secondary opening just wide enough to crawl through. "MOVE, BOTH OF YOU!"
The strain was unbearable. The Hollow’s vacuum yanked at everything, the combined force of death itself was dragging them backward. But Lyra leapt, catching Darius’s outstretched hand.
Kelvin followed last, his flames was guttering out as he reached the opening. The moment his foot cleared the threshold, the entire fissure imploded behind them which a deafening collapse that sealed the Hollow forever.
They burst out into cold air. The world above was gray and silent, the first hints of dawn staining the horizon. The ground trembled once, twice and then stilled.
When they looked back, there was no crater, no abyss only a long, jagged scar across the earth, steaming faintly before cooling. The Hollow was gone, buried beneath rock and bone.
For a long time, none of them spoke. Darius fell to his knees, chest heaving, hammer still clutched in a trembling hand. Rhoam sank beside him, laughing through exhaustion. "We actually did it... We killed the bastard."
Lyra collapsed next to Kelvin, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch his arm. "You almost burned yourself alive." He gave a weak smile, eyes glazed with pain but alive. "Almost. Guess Xerion did not want to go alone."
She managed a small laugh through tears. "Neither did you." They lay back, staring up at the vast, open sky. For the first time in what felt like ages, they saw clouds instead of ceilings of bone with wind instead of smoke sunlight instead of green fire.
And beneath that sky, the Crest of Ironholt battered, bloodied, and broken finally exhaled. Their mission was done. The Hollow was dead and the world, for now, was safe.
Dawn came slowly that morning, bleeding through a horizon that had forgotten light for far too long. When the sun finally broke, it painted the wasteland gold which is no longer the ashen gray of death, but the pale warmth of rebirth.
The Hollow was gone. The land still bore its scar, but even scars could become reminders of survival. The Crest had parted ways at sunrise. They had earned that silence, the quiet walk back into the world they had saved.
The road to Valebreach wound through the forests that had withered during the Hollow’s rise. Now, green buds poked timidly through the ash, as though nature itself dared to breathe again.
Kelvin walked it alone, cloak torn, glaive strapped across his back. Xerion slithered beside him in its smaller form which is no longer the monstrous End-Tyrant of the Hollow, but a coiled streak of living dusk-flame, its scales etched with faint runes that pulsed in rhythm with Kelvin’s heartbeat.
When he crested the last ridge, Valebreach lay before him scarred yet alive. Smoke rose from chimneys while children ran through streets that had once been battlegrounds and banners bearing the city’s crest fluttered proudly once more.
Someone saw him first. Then came the shout. "Kelvin! The Crest has returned!" The gates flew open. People poured out with soldiers, farmers, even the old tamer who had trained him as a boy.
They cheered as they cried, they bowed. But Kelvin smiled only faintly. He knelt down before them briefly, then walked past through the crowd’s adoration, toward the small hill overlooking the town.
Two gravestones waited there, worn smooth by time and weather. He knelt down while resting his spear in the grass. Xerion coiled beside the stones with lowering its head respectfully.
Kelvin’s voice broke the still morning. "We did it. The Hollow is gone. You can rest now." The wind rustled through the leaves gently with almost like a sigh.
He sat there a while, speaking softly not as a warrior or a savior, but as a son. When he finally rose, he turned to find half the town who had followed him in silent respect.
