A golden light flashed before her, and a figure emerged, its radiant glow illuminating the battlefield. Long, flowing white hair barely had time to settle before two hands reached out, seizing her wings. With merciless force, they tore them from her back, casting them aside. One severed wing struck the axe-wielder in the head, sending him staggering before his weapon clattered to the ground.
The figure wasted no time. In the blink of an eye, it wrenched the spear free from the demon-faced woman's lifeless body before vanishing, only to reappear before the remaining spellcaster. Without hesitation, the spear plunged into the sorcerer's skull.
It had all happened in the span of a heartbeat.
Aeris—no, Nyssara—stood before Valroth, bathed in golden light. The glow surrounding her expanded, enveloping him. The moment it touched his body, the spiders vanished without a trace. Warmth spread through him, soothing and numbing his pain. A deep, tingling sensation coursed through his limbs, easing his exhaustion. For a fleeting second, he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and rest.
But the battle was not over.
As Valroth rose, Nyssara had already moved. Her spear dripped with fresh blood as she faced the last surviving spellcaster—the one who had summoned the spiders.
Without his allies, he turned to flee. But golden tendrils erupted from the sand, seizing his ankle and dragging him down. He barely had time to scream before Nyssara stepped toward him, her golden radiance growing more intense.
His screams filled the night.
"Don't! Please—no! NOOO—!"
The golden light consumed him. When it faded, he was still there, but his eyes were empty, his mouth agape. Drool trickled from his lips, yet he did not react. His mind was gone. Whatever had happened within that golden glow had reduced him to nothing more than an empty shell.
Valroth watched, unable to comprehend. Nyssara turned to him, and for the first time, he saw her clearly.
She wore gleaming golden armor, her wings of pale gold suspended behind her. Her crimson eyes were now veiled in a soft, golden hue. And her spear, dripping with blood, traced crimson rivers into the sand.
Annunaki.
Nyssara stood before him. "Do not blame her," she said. She lifted a hand, golden threads forming between her fingertips. The moment they touched him, visions flooded his mind.
Aeris stood at the edge of the battlefield, her heart pounding. An unshakable dread settled over her as she paced. Then, pain—searing pain tore through her shoulder, forcing her to her knees. Gasping, she clutched at her collar, helpless.
Then, Valroth's voice echoed in her mind.
"Run. That is an order. Run as far as you can, grow stronger. Forget me."
His voice was exhausted, and the last few words were too weak to be heard clearly. Aeris' body ran without any hesitation, her tears fell in the air, and the mark behind her ear shone with a strange black light.
"No!" Aeris stopped. She turned around and wanted to go back, but Valroth's voice echoed in her mind.
Tears fell as darkness claimed her. During the struggle, she made fists with both hands and hit her head hard. Then she heard another voice.
"Leave it to me, Aeris. In this case, you are not disobeying his orders."
Aeris was stunned for a moment, closed her eyes, When she awoke—
She was Nyssara.