The nexus pulsed again, but this time the ripple of energy felt different—wrong. Matrim staggered slightly as the weight beneath the ground pressed into his chest like a vice. He could feel the leyline’s current weakening, the pulse no longer rhythmic but erratic, jagged.

  Across from him, Narianna’s breathing had slowed. Her stance remained firm, blade raised, but beads of sweat dotted her brow. Her crimson eyes flickered faintly, and Matrim could tell she felt it too—the corruption bleeding into the very air around them.

  The robed figures of the Court remained still, circling like carrion birds around prey. The lead agent took another step forward, silver-threaded robes brushing the chamber floor as his veil shifted with each breath.

  “You feel it now,” he said, voice soft as silk. “The weight of the old blood coursing through the ley.”

  Matrim’s knees almost buckled. It wasn’t just oppressive magic—they were actively siphoning energy from the nexus, poisoning the leyline and draining it directly from the chamber’s heart. His connection to the leyline, once steady like a deep pulse in his veins, now felt murky, distorted.

  “What are you doing?” Matrim hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Liberating,” the agent replied calmly, though behind the mask of civility, there was the undercurrent of a predator savoring the moment. “The nexus struggles because it is bound to this city’s dying order.”

  Narianna took a shaky step forward, blade trembling slightly in her grip. “You’re draining us... weakening the leyline.”

  “You stood too close,” one of the other agents murmured from the circle, her voice low and smug. “The roots here are soaked in our will.”

  Matrim gritted his teeth as his muscles grew sluggish. His thoughts dulled, as if the nexus was bleeding him dry alongside the currents of the leyline itself. They’re feeding off us. Off the connection.

  “Get ready,” Narianna whispered, her voice strained.

  But Matrim noticed it—something in the Court’s posture. None of them lunged. None of them truly pressed forward. Even as the corruption rose through the roots, their eyes flicked toward the nexus and its sickly glow.

  Matrim’s mind sharpened past the haze. They’re stalling.

  The lead agent spoke again, weaving his voice like a serpent. “You struggle because you still fight the inevitable. Let the leyline fall. Let Silvermoon’s chains be undone.”

  The words washed over them like a dark current, but Matrim could hear something else buried beneath the chant, beneath the veiled mockery.

  Subtle clicks. A vibration pulsing deeper within the roots—beneath the nexus itself.

  His pulse quickened. They’re not focused on us.

  “Narianna,” Matrim whispered harshly, “this is a distraction.”

  She blinked, momentarily pulling herself from the lethargy sinking into her limbs. Her crimson eyes darted to the lead agent’s hand—the way it subtly traced sigils in the air, not aimed at them, but directed into the roots feeding the nexus.

  “They’re tunneling,” she murmured, realization dawning. “Under the chamber.”

  Matrim’s vision blurred slightly as he forced himself to stay conscious against the draining weight pressing on his body. They’re not here for the nexus. They’re going deeper.

  But the Court’s chant crescendoed, dark magic twisting the nexus’ glow further into a crimson spiral as if urging them to focus only on the visible corruption above.

  “You think you can stop this?” the lead agent asked, voice dripping with pity. “You think this city will survive what comes next?”

  Matrim’s breath rasped, but his instincts flared. They’re lulling us into focusing on the wrong threat.

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  Narianna’s footing wavered, but she forced herself upright. “We cut them off here, now.”

  Matrim wanted to agree, but every instinct screamed otherwise.

  His gaze drifted to the edges of the chamber—the twisted roots creeping deeper into fissures beyond the nexus, burrowing into unseen crevices below the chamber’s floor.

  Whatever the Court wanted, it wasn’t just to poison the leyline here.

  They were digging for something worse.

  But as the energy siphoned harder, sapping the strength from Matrim’s arms and legs, doubt clawed at his resolve.

  Do we fight now... or are we already too late?

  The nexus chamber darkened as the Court’s chant rose, the crimson taint twisting along the roots, leeching the leyline dry. Matrim could feel the current weakening, turning toxic beneath their feet. His breath came heavy, each inhale laced with the stench of corrupted magic.

  The lead agent stepped forward, the silver threading in his robes shimmering faintly. His veiled face tilted, watching Matrim with that same predatory patience.

  “You’re fading,” the agent said softly. “The nexus resists you as much as it does us.”

  Matrim’s vision swam, but the realization clawed through the haze—the Court was buying time. Their true intent was beneath them, hidden in the depths beyond sight.

  But Narianna’s strength was ebbing beside him. She fought to remain upright, crimson eyes flashing with sheer will as she braced her stance.

  “We end this now,” she growled.

  Matrim’s hand tightened on the hilt of his short sword. We’re too exposed here... but there’s no choice.

  The roots surged.

  The corrupted tendrils shot forward like spears. Matrim dove left as Narianna darted right, both narrowly avoiding the jagged roots cracking the ground where they stood.

  Matrim rolled to his feet, the leyline’s surge flickering in his veins like a storm trying to break free. The sluggishness in his limbs persisted, but adrenaline pushed through it as he raised his blade.

  The Court moved.

  Two agents unleashed bursts of shadow magic, threads of darkness arcing toward Narianna. She spun beneath the first and batted the second away with her glowing blade, but the impact still sent her sliding back across the cavern floor.

  Matrim lashed out at an approaching agent, steel meeting corrupted magic midair. The force jolted up his arm, but he twisted the blade free, forcing the agent back. Sparks of ley-infused light flared from his strike, countering the draining pull for just a moment.

  Across the chamber, Narianna moved with disciplined aggression, cutting through two agents in a flash of silver and crimson. Yet each swing of her sword seemed to sap more energy from her, as though the leyline itself resisted her efforts.

  “They’re bleeding us dry!” Matrim shouted, ducking a blast of corrupted flame.

  The lead agent watched from the edge of the fight, arms folded, veil fluttering with each leyline pulse.

  “You’re merely prolonging the inevitable,” the agent called out calmly.

  Matrim’s next strike shattered against another agent’s ward, sending him stumbling. The whispering chorus beneath the nexus returned, pulling at his mind with ancient voices, urging surrender.

  His vision blurred—images of the well, the ruined streets of Varenhold, and then flickers of something deeper. Dark corridors. Symbols etched into cavern walls far beneath this chamber.

  They’re digging beneath us. Deeper.

  Narianna’s cry snapped him back as she fought free from another tangled root. She was fast, precise, but Matrim could see her endurance slipping beneath the corruption’s weight.

  “We need to cut off the nexus!” she called, voice strained.

  Matrim gritted his teeth. “No—we’re missing something.”

  Before she could question him, the cavern floor trembled. Fine cracks began to splinter further beyond the nexus, deeper into the leyline fissures at the chamber’s base.

  Matrim’s gut sank. They’re not just corrupting the surface ley lines... they’re breaking through to whatever’s below.

  The agents pressed harder, but they weren’t overextending. They weren’t desperate.

  They were stalling.

  Matrim’s next swing forced one agent backward into the shadows. He turned to Narianna mid-stride.

  “They’re digging past the nexus!” he barked. “There’s something beneath it—they’re trying to breach deeper.”

  Narianna’s crimson eyes widened, realization dawning. “That’s why they’re draining the leyline. It’s a key.”

  The lead agent’s smirk deepened behind his veil. “Ah... clever.”

  Without warning, he extended both hands, and the chamber shuddered violently. The nexus flared in protest as tendrils of shadow magic lanced deep into its core.

  “No!” Narianna charged, cutting through another agent as she made for the nexus.

  Matrim followed, every step against the leyline’s current a battle. The weight pressing down on them now was unbearable—as if the earth itself threatened to collapse.

  The nexus cracked.

  Veins of crimson-black energy spiraled outward as the corrupted roots burrowed deeper into unseen chasms below.

  Matrim lunged at the nearest agent, driving his sword through a weakened ward. The ley energy flared as his blade struck true, sending the agent crumpling to the ground.

  But as the chamber shook violently, dust raining from the ceiling above, Matrim knew they were too late to stop the deeper ritual.

  “You’ve already lost,” the lead agent whispered as another pulse tore through the ground.

  Matrim staggered beside Narianna as the earth split beneath the nexus itself, revealing a jagged fissure below.

  From the darkness rose an ominous red glow—and the faint, terrifying sensation that something ancient had just stirred far beneath the heart of Silvermoon.