Low-Fantasy Occultist

The clash between the void and death magic created a silent distortion in reality. The air between Nick and the Shaman twisted into a sphere of inverted colors, the ether warping and folding in on itself.

Nick gritted his teeth, locked in a reality-bending struggle against the undead master. The Shaman’s spear of decay was an endless torrent, screeching with the tormented wails of a hundred sacrificed souls. It sought to wither everything it touched, turning stone to dust and the little life that survived in the cold to ash.

But [Call of the Void] could not wither. It sought to consume all in its path, and consume it did.

Eldritch shadows poured from the Shard of Human Ambition, tearing impossible chasms in the ether. Whispers of unknown origin slithered through the gaps—a chorus of voices predating humanity, speaking in a cadence that made Nick’s mind throb.

He had to exert the full weight of his soul just to keep the spell tethered, forcing the hungry tear in reality forward and never letting it spread beyond what he allowed.

The Shaman poured more necrotic power into its staff, and the crystalline heart glowed even brighter. For a fraction of a second, the death magic pushed back, and the inverted sphere inched closer to Nick.

Nick refused to yield. He had faced demons and gods alike, and an undead orc would not be his undoing. He untethered a little more of his spell, letting it spread its influence further, and forced his intent into its fabric.

Consume, he ordered, and the eldritch darkness surged. It wrapped around the roaring spear of decay and swallowed it whole. The terrible screeching of the tormented souls was instantly silenced, choked by the void's nothingness.

The Shaman realized its peril too late. It tried to break the connection and retreat, but the void hungered, and the dense cluster of necrotic magic anchoring the undead creature to the world was a tasty morsel.

Writhing shadows lashed out, enveloping the dais.

More power erupted from the Shaman in a last-ditch effort to force the darkness back, but it was too late.

It simply ceased to be. The robes, the crystalline staff, and the rotting flesh were unmade, erased from both the physical and spiritual planes, until nothing of them remained.

With the target consumed, the void turned its attention to the surrounding stone, threatening to devour the plateau itself. Nick wrenched his staff upward, severing his mana connection and slamming shut the boundaries of his spiritual domain.

Reality violently snapped back into place. A shockwave of displaced air flattened the remaining dust, leaving a semicircular crater on the dais where the stone had been eradicated.