*Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
Her breath remained controlled, steady—but the storm within her chest told a different story entirely.
*thump! *thump! *thump! *thump!
With every hurried step across the scarred terrain, her heart pounded louder, not just with urgency, but with a growing sense of dread that weighed heavily on her soul.
Each stride was swift, yes, but it felt like she was dragging the world behind her, the fear of what awaited her clawing deeper into her thoughts with every passing second.
Merilyn's gaze stayed fixed ahead, but her mind spiraled—flashing with images of the ones she loved, their faces, their voices, their laughter… all fading, replaced by screams, silence, or worse.
"Let's hurry!" she cried out over her shoulder to Erenhold, her voice sharpened by the edge of panic.
*Fwoom!
In a sudden surge of desperation, she wrapped dense layers of crimson Eidra tightly around her legs.
The energy coursed through her nerves like fire, igniting her muscles with raw, explosive force.
Then—
like a lightning bolt through a storm—
she burst forward in a blur,
*Bang!
her silhouette vanishing in a streak of wind.
Erenhold, gritting his teeth, narrowed his eyes and chased after her, forcing his own body to keep up.
*BANG!
He didn't speak.
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud
There was nothing that needed to be said.
They both knew there was no time to waste.
.
.
.
After what felt like an eternity—though it had only been a few minutes—they reached their destination.
Merilyn froze.
Her breath caught.
Her legs refused to move as her eyes took in the nightmare that unfolded before her.
The land before her was nothing but ruin and agony.
It was no longer a battlefield—
it was a mass grave.
A wasteland soaked in the blood of fallen soldiers, torn limbs scattered across scorched soil, their severed bodies shredded and strewn like broken dolls tossed aside by something monstrous and merciless.
The ground was painted in shades of horror—red, black, and burnt earth—and the silence screamed louder than any gunfire or beastly roar.
Her heart sank lower with every step she took, her eyes searching frantically.
There—piled like trash, was a mountain of the dead.
Hundreds of thousands of Zerafhon soldiers—piled one atop another, lifeless and stripped of all dignity.
Merilyn's body trembled violently.
Her hands clenched.
Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out at first.
Her mind screamed but no sound passed through her throat.
.
.
.
"Evaan...! Heria...!" she suddenly shouted, her voice cracking like broken glass.
Her shout pierced the air, wild with panic. "Enerken…!"
But there was no response.
Only the fading crackle of the dying flame wall nearby… and the echoing roars of Atroxian beasts beyond the veil.
The names of her children and husband echoed into the wind, unanswered.
She saw no sign of them.
No movement.
No familiar faces.
No breath.
"No… No… NO!" Merilyn cried out again, stumbling forward like a ghost in search of the living among the dead.
Her breathing hitched, her voice broke apart, her steps became frantic, erratic—each one fueled by terror.
And then, a faint groan.
A voice—
fragile and distant, reached her.
Erenhold heard it too.
He spun toward the sound, his eyes catching the twitching form of a soldier lying helpless in the dirt, his body half-destroyed, viscera splayed across the ground in a gruesome trail.
Erenhold pointed, prompting Merilyn to quickly walk towards the soldier.
Merilyn dropped to her knees beside the soldier, her hands trembling as she gently lifted his upper body.
The man's skin was deathly pale, his blood bubbling at his lips, and his eyes barely open.
"B...ster...gen…we…" the soldier coughed, his voice wet and broken, each word gurgling as blood flooded his throat.
"Speak! Please—where are they!? What happened!?" Merilyn begged, holding him closer, her voice shrill and desperate.
"The General… the young... l-lord… and lady…" the soldier rasped, choking on blood, his eyes dulling by the second.
He trembled violently, his chest heaving as though each breath might be his last.
"WHERE!?" she screamed, shaking him.
"Point it out—just point! WHERE DID THEY GO!?"
The soldier's body spasmed, his breath catching.
*Cough!
A final sputter of crimson escaped his lips as he summoned every last drop of strength left in him.
Slowly, agonizingly, he raised his trembling hand…
West.
He pointed west—before his hand fell limply back to the blood-soaked ground.
His eyes glazed over, his body stilling.
Merilyn placed a hand gently over his eyelids, closing them.
"The empire shall be eternally grateful for your sacrifice," she whispered, voice hollow.
She rose.
And she ran.
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud
Without hesitation, she tore westward, her body fueled now by fury, by fear, and by fire.
Erenhold followed behind her—silent, focused, unflinching.
Their feet pounded the earth.
The burning remnants of the flame wall guided them—flickering, failing… and then she saw it.
A silhouette—one that shattered her heart.
Her husband, Evaan, lifted in the air like a puppet strung on a blade.
The monstrous beast held him upwards—
its jagged blade impaled straight through his chest, dark blood trailing down his sides.
Evaan's eyes barely opened as Merilyn neared.
"M-Merilyn…" he coughed, blood falling from his lips like raindrops, "I'm… s-sorry…"
"EVAAN!" she screamed, blinking forward in a single breath.
*Clang!
Together with Erenhold, they struck the beast, forcing it to drop Evaan from its impaling grasp.
*Thud!
His body hit the ground like dead weight—limp, blood-soaked, unmoving.
Merilyn rushed to his side, falling to her knees as she cradled his body.
"Evaan… Evaan, stay with me…!" she sobbed, her hands pressing to the wound, but the blood wouldn't stop.
He looked at her—eyes soft, already losing focus.
"The… children…" he whispered.
His fingers weakly gripped hers…
Then fell.
Limp.
"No… No… NO!! EVAAN!!" Merilyn screamed, her voice raw with grief.
She wept over him, shaking her head as her tears dropped onto his still-warm face.
But she couldn't stop.
She couldn't stay.
The children—
She had to find them.
She stood—her legs like jelly, but her purpose strong.
She ran.
.
.
.
Seconds passed.
Minutes flew.
That both felt like eternity.
She kept running.
And then, she saw them.
Both of her children—Heria and Enerken—suspended in the air, held upwards in the monster's grip.
Their bodies struggled, kicking, squirming—desperately trying to escape.
"NO!" Merilyn screamed, eyes going wide in terror.
She summoned a colossal burst of wind Eidra beneath her feet,
*FWOOM!!!
herself forward like a rocket.
But it was too late.
The beast split itself again, creating a copy—just enough to delay her by a single second.
One single second.
*Slice!
As she cut the copy down, her eyes returned to the original…
Just in time to see it hurl her children upward, and leap after them.
"W-Wai—" she reached out with her hand.
But everything was too late.
*Slick… *Slosh… *Thud!
The beast slashed them midair.
Limbs, heads, and flesh spiraled through the sky.
Merilyn froze.
Her breath stopped.
Her chest wouldn't rise.
*Thu-Thump *Thu-Thump *Thu-Thump
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it, but her body remained paralyzed.
Her mouth opened—
"A-A-Ahh..."
but only a hollow gasp escaped.
And in that moment…
Something broke.
Something inside her soul.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
Her scream wasn't just sorrow—
it was anguish made flesh, a scream that tore through the heavens.
The wind obeyed.
*VWOOOOOOOOOM!!
Crimson wind exploded around her, erupting in spirals that howled with rage.
Her skin cracked from the force, blood mixing with Eidra as her very body twisted into something more.
Powerful gales ravaged the air around her, shredding earth and sky alike.
The battlefield bent to her fury.
"MY CHILDREN!!" she bellowed, her voice layered with power no longer bound by flesh.
She had ascended.
Not into corruption.
Not into madness.
But into purity.
Rage.
Wrath given divine form.
She had become what no one had seen in generations.
Galevryn—
The Crimson Wind.