The cloaked figure atop the obsidian spire remained unnervingly still, their presence radiating a quiet power that seemed to seep into the very stones around them.
As the Shard Walker continued its attack on Zephyr, the whispers intensified, swirling around the creature like a visible shroud.
The crimson energy holding its fragmented form together flickered violently, and its jerky movements became even more erratic.
It stumbled back, momentarily disoriented, giving Zephyr a chance to unleash another powerful blast of Radiant Flow.
This time, several large chunks of obsidian shattered and fell away from the creature.
Lyra, ever vigilant, kept her white lightblade trained on the cloaked figure. "Einar, Zephyr, focus on the Shard Walker. I will observe our new arrival."
Einar, sensing the amplified whispers and their effect on the Shard Walker, felt a surge of curiosity.
He extended his Void sense, trying to perceive the connection between the cloaked figure and the turbulent whispers.
He sensed a deliberate weaving of the ambient energies, a focused manipulation that was causing the Shard Walker's instability.
It wasn't direct control, but more like an amplification of the creature's inherent fractured state.
Just as the Shard Walker seemed to regain its footing and lunge at Zephyr again, the cloaked figure on the spire raised their staff once more.
The polished black stone at its tip pulsed with a soft, internal blue light, and this time, the whispers around the Shard Walker seemed to coalesce into sharp, focused commands in Einar's mind: Fracture… Break… Fall…
The Shard Walker staggered, its obsidian limbs spasming uncontrollably. Cracks of crimson energy widened across its form, and with a final, grating screech, it collapsed into a pile of inert obsidian shards.
The whispers in the air abruptly subsided.
The cloaked figure slowly descended from the spire, their movements fluid and silent. As they drew closer, Einar could finally discern some of their features.
They wore a mask of polished black stone that covered their entire face, with only two glowing blue lines visible where their eyes would be.
Their cloak was made of a material that seemed to absorb all light, making them appear almost as a void in the crimson landscape.
The staff they carried pulsed with a steady, calming blue light.
They stopped a few paces away, their masked gaze sweeping over Einar, Zephyr, and finally settling on Lyra.
Their voice, when it came, was a soft, resonant whisper that seemed to carry the weight of ages.
"The Shadowed Lands stir. The whispers carry tales of a rising tide. It is… prudent to observe."