The battlefield roared with chaos.
While Kai and Fen's clash tore through the heart of the Citadel, Lysander Hutchman gritted his teeth as he parried another barrage of Hollow Aether blades hurled by a Twilight commander. His katana, coated in bright silver Aether, screamed against the force, but he held firm.
He couldn't afford to fall—not now.
Behind him, several Solstice Eclipsers rallied around the outer courtyard, protecting wounded comrades and trying to hold the broken lines. The Twilight Order had pushed deeper into the citadel than anyone thought possible. Black banners danced among flame and ash, and the Solstice defenders were stretched thin.
"Hold the line!" Lysander barked, deflecting another lance of cursed energy. "We fall here, they'll take the Nexus Gate!"
A young Eclipser stumbled beside him—Darein, a recent recruit, barely older than sixteen. His hands trembled as he tried to summon a shield of Pure Aether, only for it to sputter out like a candle in the storm.
"They're too strong!" Darein cried, eyes wide with terror.
Lysander spun in front of him, his katana slicing through a Hollow Aether spear that would've impaled the boy.
"They bleed just like us. Fight smart. Focus!" Lysander growled. His own Aether flared brighter in response, the memories of the Twilight Order's cruelty fueling him. He would never go back.
Behind them, Captain Ora—a seasoned Solstice commander with skin like bark and eyes of molten bronze—screamed as she unleashed a Pure Aether explosion, vaporizing a dozen enemy agents in a golden shockwave. But even she looked strained.
"We're losing ground!" she called out. "We need support—where's Kai?!"
Lysander's jaw clenched. He's fighting Fen Yalyph herself…
But before he could reply, a massive crash echoed through the eastern tower.
A new figure stepped through the smoke.
Clad in obsidian armor etched with silver flame markings, a Twilight Elite—one of Fen's personal enforcers—descended upon the battlefield like a plague.
"Lysander Hutchman," the figure snarled. "Traitor. The Lady commands your head be severed and your Aether consumed."
Lysander raised his katana, already drenched in sweat and blood. "Tell Fen Yalyph she'll choke on it."
The enforcer launched forward.
Their blades clashed with blinding speed—sparks erupted from every strike. The Elite's Hollow Aether rippled through the ground with each swing, corrupting stone and air alike. Lysander's Pure Aether fought back, pushing harder, resisting.
He stumbled—barely dodging a scything arc aimed for his neck. The Elite raised a palm. "Hollow Burst!"
Black energy exploded point-blank.
Lysander went flying—crashing through a wall, rubble burying him.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then—his blade surged with silver light. The rubble burst apart as Lysander roared, blood dripping from his mouth. He planted one foot forward, body trembling, eyes blazing with renewed will.
"I didn't escape hell just to die outside its gates."
He vanished—and reappeared behind the enforcer mid-swing.
"Silver Fang: Final Echo!"
His blade howled as it struck.
The enforcer screamed—his weapon shattered, and a geyser of light erupted from his chest. The Hollow Aether recoiled violently as the Elite collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.
Around him, the Solstice soldiers who could still stand rallied.
They pushed forward, shouting war cries, their morale reignited by Lysander's defiance.
But Lysander himself dropped to one knee, panting, his vision swimming.
Captain Ora moved to his side, gripping his shoulder. "You saved us," she whispered. "But it's not over."
Lysander looked to the center of the citadel—where a crimson pillar of Aether now lit the sky.
"Kai…" he murmured. "You better survive."
And high above, as the battlefield trembled beneath them, the true war continued.
To be continued…