The Sovereign left ruin in his wake. But in the ashes, something stirred.
The battlefield still smoked.
Twisted Ironborn husks lay in pieces across the valley, their metal frames hissing steam into the scorched air. Blood and oil stained the ground in equal measure. Shattered weapons and broken armor littered the field like discarded promises.
And at the center of it all, Minwoo stood alone — the Nexusblade buried halfway into the earth, its dark surface pulsing with a faint, silvery light.
The blade was silent now, cooling.
But it remembered.
"He'll come again," Minwoo murmured, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Sooner. Stronger."
Back at the camp, the survivors gathered under the damaged frame of the Forge canopy — the last stronghold still standing.
Selene moved among the wounded, her hands glowing with healing glyphs. Sweat beaded on her brow. She didn't stop. Couldn't.
Kael paced nearby, wrapping his bruised ribs with a torn strip of cloth, jaw clenched tight.
"That wasn't even his full force," he muttered. "We weren't ready."
"We survived," Kinro growled, standing like a tower of bruises and burning will. "That's enough for now."
But Jinn disagreed.
Leaning against a stone column, hood drawn low, he tossed a scorched Ironborn core onto the war table. It still sparked feebly.
"They were testing us. Mapping our tactics. Next time, they won't be guessing."
"And they'll come faster," Lira added, emerging from the shadows of the tent. Her voice was calm — too calm. "The threads are unraveling. I can feel it."
Her hands moved through the air, sketching out faint starlight runes that shimmered, then dissolved.
"Time's turning against us."
That night, the Forge was eerily quiet.
Minwoo sat alone with the Nexusblade across his knees, staring into its mirrored surface. Reflections flickered: his face, then a ruined city, then the Sovereign's blazing silhouette—shifting, blending.
The blade vibrated in his hands, whispering in memory, not words.
Behind him, Lira stepped into the faint firelight.
"The blade's awakening," she said softly. "It holds more than power, you know."
"I'm starting to understand that," Minwoo replied. "It remembers him. The Sovereign."
"He was once a creator," she said. "Before he chose dominion over understanding. The blade chose you because you haven't made that mistake."
Minwoo looked at her, the weight of leadership dragging at his shoulders.
"What if I still could?"
Lira stepped closer, placing a hand on the blade. The runes on her wrist shimmered.
"Then we remind you who you are. That's what guilds are for."
By morning, the Shadow Fang moved with grim determination.
Selene finished healing the last of the wounded — then turned to crafting wards with Lira, their combined magic weaving protective layers deep into the Forge walls.
Kael reforged shattered weapons beside Kinro, the sound of hammer on steel echoing through the camp like a heartbeat.
Jinn moved in and out of the valley, leaving no trail, no sound — only intel. He returned with maps, enemy positions, and coded signals stolen from the Sovereign's ranks.
"He's advancing faster than expected," Jinn said, tossing a schematic onto the table. "No rest. No retreat. He wants us exhausted before the next wave hits."
"Then we fight smarter," Kael replied, slamming his fist down. "We make him bleed."
"Not just bleed," Minwoo said as he entered, Nexusblade sheathed on his back. "We make him doubt."
That evening, the full guild assembled at the Forge's heart — the wounded standing with crutches, the spellcasters leaning on staffs, the warriors sharpening their blades by firelight.
Minwoo stepped onto the blackened dais.
"We survived his wrath," he said, voice carrying through the silence. "But that was just the beginning."
He looked around — at Jinn, silent but focused. At Lira, her hands glowing faintly with starfire. At Kael and Kinro, standing shoulder to shoulder. At Selene, still strong, still unbroken.
"The Sovereign believes power is forged from control. Fear. Force."
"But we know the truth."
"Power comes from choice. From loyalty. From each other."
The Nexusblade flared faintly on his back — not in anger, but in resonance.
"So let him come."
"Because the next time he faces the Shadow Fang…"
He drew the Nexusblade — and it rang out like a bell, clear and deadly.
"…he won't find victims."
"He'll find the end of his empire."