Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

The world twisted around Silas as he plummeted, the wind roaring in his ears and whipping against his face. For a split second, time seemed to stretch, his thoughts racing in a frantic blur. There was no ground beneath him, no safety—only the yawning abyss of the castle's exterior walls rushing up to meet him.

Desperation surged through him. He quickly reached into his leather pocket, drawing the small dagger of [Mad Cow's Canine]. With a sharp intake of breath, he flipped himself mid-air and thrust the dagger into the stone wall. The awakened blade bit into the mundane stone, finding purchase just in time.

The crunch of stone beneath the blade reverberated through his bones as he continued to descend, the force of the impact threatening to dislocate his shoulder. The dagger's [Growth] dug deeper, sending shocks of pain up his arm, but it slowed his fall, inch by agonizing inch.

Finally, the wind calmed around him, but the noise above was deafening. He glanced upward, witnessing the grotesque mucus tendrils ripping through more of the castle, slabs of stone breaking off and crashing downward.

Directly toward his head.

"Got to move, GOT TO MOVE!" Panic reared its ugly head. Every instinct screamed at him to yank the sword out and dodge the falling rubble, but that would mean embracing the unforgiving ground below.

Out of the corner of his eye, Silas spotted a balcony beneath him. Hope sparked, and with all his strength, he swung back on the dagger's handle, then forward, absorbing the sword as he propelled himself toward the balcony.

The tumbling remains of the castle whistled by as Silas flew downward, gravity pulling him faster. Even in the midst of panic, he dug into his dormant soul, the runes of [Mad Cow's Canine] flickering into existence as he desperately summoned it again.

The blade materialized, piece by piece, its ethereal image sparking in his hand. But with each moment, the balcony loomed closer, and his future seemed destined to be a smear on the stone rather than an awakened. 

The presence in his hand solidified as the blade finally took shape, its texture meeting his desperate grasp. With an urgent swing and a sharp crack, Silas drove the blade into the castle wall. The sword, almost too sharp for its purpose, sabotaged his descent, leaving deep, jagged wounds in the stone.

His palm screamed in pain as the handle tore at his skin, the resistance burning against his grip. But gradually, Silas felt his fall slow, his eyes locking onto the balcony rushing toward him—too fast to avoid.

In that moment, something surged within him, his will igniting a hidden [Empowerment] that strengthened his body. A force that had been masked by the [Touch of Divinity] now revealed itself, coursing through him.

BANG!

Silas slammed into the hard surface of the balcony. The [Empowerment] dulled some of the damage, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him, leaving him gasping, his body writhing as he desperately tried to draw breath back into his lungs. only to be inhibited when at the same time the iron taste of blood found its way, the urge to cough the blood making its way into his lungs. 

The sweet air finally seeping bast the blood and into his lungs, some respite allowed Silas to regain clear thought, the touch of solid ground before him was accommodating. 

'Ok got to get out of this hell hole, maybe the terror will kill itself with the other two, that'd be great' Silas mumbled feeling the raspy cold air down his throat, it seemed like the fall had done some damage, but he was still able.

He lay there, staring up at the sky, the bright light making him squint. Instinctively, he shaded his eyes with his wrist, the motion feeling almost reflexive after the chaos of his fall.

But even after lowering his hand, the shadow remained.

Confusion flickered through his mind, quickly turning to dread as he realized the shade wasn't from his hand—it was from something massive above. His eyes widened as he saw it: a large section of the castle wall, dislodged by the monstrous tendrils, was hurtling straight down toward him.

Panic reignited, sharp and electric, and Silas reacted on instinct. With every ounce of energy left in him, he rolled to the side, away from the balcony and toward the safety of the castle's interior. He felt the cold stone scrape against his skin as he moved, each heartbeat thundering in his ears.

CRASH!

The massive chunk of wall slammed into the balcony with a deafening roar, the force of it splintering stone and sending shards flying in every direction. The balcony itself was torn away, crumbling and plummeting into the abyss below.

Silas barely made it inside, the rush of air from the impact brushing against his back. He lay there for a moment. 'His heart beating against his ribcage, the adrenaline in his body seeming unsure whether to escape or flare up, his fight and flight has been thrown around a lot today. 

'Everything wants to kill me in this bloody castle!' Silas exclaimed inwardly. 

After some rest he got up on his feet, looking around to the dark halls of the castle, a myriad of paintings decorated the wall, the people on it seemed familiar. they closely represented the noble upstairs.

His attention snapping to a new source, as muddled footsteps sounded out of the carpet floors of the room, Silas looked toward the sound and readied his blade, the sharp point of the tip pointed directly forward to the threats. 

A textile knock was heard on the door, repeatedly over and over again as if some juiced up junkie tried to use every single part of their body to barrage the trash bin that they hallucinated as their estranged father. 

It seemed that was close to the originator of the noise, as the door with a bang crumpled under the pressure, the alloy handle crashing against the floor. 

What had done the damage was a group of people, their eyes blank as a nothingness, growling teeth and utter lack of sense in their movements, it seemed that the mindless that had perfectly been puppeteer before had lost the spark. 

The insanity of their new master being passed down, resulting in the madness trying to rip into Silas's young soul. They charged him, collapsing over themself in a rabid frenzy, their fingers reached out to him like rabid animals. 

Silas took a step back, attempting to calm his beating heart, readied is body, and swung, The blade piercing through the air with no resistance at all, the gleam of the sword being sent sideways. 

Right into the mindlessness neck.