The first city had fallen.
The ground was a mire buried beneath corpses, battered banners, and abandoned supplies. Thick columns of smoke rose among the ruins as Douglas soldiers withdrew through the devastated streets. Lusian had ordered the evacuation: there was nothing left to defend in that stronghold except the lives that could still be saved.
The troops tried to reorganize their ranks as they fled, but whenever a formation opened a gap, the darkness struck without mercy. That was when Adela appeared in the rear guard. She dismounted from her white tiger and planted her boots firmly in the mud.
—Hold formation! —she roared.
The magical beast riders responded instantly. Panthers, bears, and griffins charged into the enemy vanguard, their roars shaking the air as they carved escape routes for the Douglas infantry. Riding atop a griffin, Mark led the counterattack, guiding his squad into a diving wedge. A panther slipped between the enemy ranks before vanishing into the fog, while a bear charged head-on, pulverizing the first line of resistance.
For a few moments, the retreat seemed to stabilize.
Then the surroundings began to distort.
The magical barrier surrounding the city warped the terrain. Gouts of water erupted from the ground, forming sudden walls. Roads dissolved beneath a thick fog, and distances lost all meaning. A unit marching in a straight line would suddenly reappear several meters from its original position, while another became isolated in the darkness.
Panic spread.
—Close ranks! —Adela ordered. —Protect the retreating flank!
The riders tightened their formation. The white tiger cleared an enemy encirclement in a single deadly leap; the bear tore through another defensive line, while the panther emerged behind a group of crusaders and tore them apart before vanishing once again.
Mark spotted a tactical opening.
—Now! Push!
The griffin began its dive.
That was when a flash of ice split the sky and struck its right wing head-on.
The creature let out a piercing shriek and lost control. Mark barely managed to hold onto the reins as the griffin plummeted several meters before forcing itself back into the air in a desperate effort.
Its wing was crippled, bleeding, stripped of feathers.
Yet it found enough strength for one final ascent.
Eleonor and Norma were still clinging to its claws, so the griffin twisted in midair and hurled them toward the allied rear guard, where both disappeared safely into the fog.
Only then did the beast finally give out.
It crashed into the ground.
The impact sent Mark violently through the air. He rolled through the mud before landing on his back. When he tried to rise, he saw his beasts lying mutilated only a few meters away.
His own breathing had become an agonizing whistle.
Slow, steady footsteps approached.
Mark raised his head.
Adela was walking toward him.
At her side, the white tiger advanced through the mud, its fur stained with blood and small clouds of steam rising from its muzzle after the exertion.
Mark tried to raise his spear, but his arms refused to obey.
—You... —he spat a thin stream of blood. —Why do you attack the gods' chosen?
Adela watched him in silence for a moment.
—The gods' chosen? —she repeated.
Then she spoke with quiet seriousness.
—I fear they're nothing more than tools.
The tiger let out a low growl.
Mark tried to stand and failed, but he managed to raise his spear toward her.
—I... won't... kneel.
Adela gave him a smile devoid of mockery, touched by a deep melancholy.
—Easy.
She drew her blade.
—A rider does not die on his knees.
She snapped her fingers.
The white tiger vanished.
Mark barely registered what happened.
A blinding flash.
The arc of a claw.
A burst of freezing cold tore through his chest.
Mark's body fell lifelessly onto his back.
His eyes remained open for a few moments, fixed on the sky, until the light within them finally faded.
Adela turned toward her troops without losing her composure.
—Complete retreat. Not one more.
No one questioned the command.
The riders began their final withdrawal.
Behind them, the Douglas city disappeared beneath smoke and ruins.
The first city had fallen.
And with it...
one of the heroes of the Crusade had fallen.
Hours later, far from those ruins, another contingent moved through the forest under the cover of darkness.
Carlo Benucci walked in complete silence.
He no longer carried himself like a hero.
His patron god had fallen, and with his disappearance, the divine connection that had sustained Carlo's entire existence had vanished: his gift of precognition, his strength, his identity.
Everything.
—You don't know what it feels like... —he murmured, his voice broken.
Leonardo did not even bother looking at him.
—We're not here to mourn.
Carlo raised his head, wounded by the remark.
His patron god was still fighting somewhere above the heavens.
But Velyrion was injured.
Gravely injured.
And Carlo had begun to feel the consequences.
—My god... is dead.
—And we're still breathing.
—You don't understand anything! —Carlo's voice trembled with frustration. —Your god still exists. Mine is gone.
Xiomara clenched her jaw and cut the argument short.
—Enough. If Lusian is nearby, arguing won't do us any good.
She was too late.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Leonardo stopped dead.
—What...?
Roots erupted from the mud.
Dense shadows spread between the trees before exploding upward.
Dozens of mana spikes tore through the earth, and the heroes scattered in panic.
—We're under attack!
A bolt of lightning tore through the forest, leaving smoking furrows in the ground.
For one suspended moment...
silence.
Then came the roar.
It did not belong to an ordinary beast.
It was the rumble of a storm trapped inside flesh and bone.
The vegetation trembled.
The fog split apart.
Thunder emerged.
Flashes of lightning raced across the beast's body as every step made the ground tremble.
And riding on its back was Lusian.
His expression was coldly serene.
Too serene.
Leonardo's eyes widened.
—It's a decoy! Regroup the—
Thunder vanished in a thunderous flash.
In the blink of an eye, Carlo was ripped from the ground.
—CARLO! —Alejandro shouted, reaching out.
It was useless.
Lusian had already disappeared into the forest with him.
Screams echoed from the distance.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then...
deathly silence.
Xiomara slammed her fist against a tree in helpless fury.
—Damn it!
Leonardo was breathing heavily.
—He's hunting us...
Alejandro stared into the darkness of the forest.
—No.
He swallowed.
—He's splitting us apart.
Lusian dragged Carlo beyond the primary range of the spell.
Thunder followed only a few steps behind, still surrounded by crackling arcs of electricity.
Carlo collapsed into the mud, convulsing.
—It wasn't my fault... —he whimpered.
Lusian looked down at him.
—What?
—It wasn't my fault! —Carlo shrieked. —Irius gave the order! The Herald swore it was a divine command! I only obeyed!
Lusian remained expressionless.
—You invaded my lands.
Carlo lifted his face in desperation.
—We fight for humanity!
Lusian narrowed his eyes.
—No.
A wave of darkness began gathering behind him.
—You fought for a god who considered your life expendable.
Carlo tried to rise.
A faint golden glow appeared across his body—the final remnant of his dying blessing.
The light flickered...
and vanished.
Carlo stared at his hands in horror.
—No...
Lusian raised one hand.
The shadows solidified into dozens of dark spears behind him.
Carlo understood his fate.
—Wait...
The spears descended.
Carlo's scream tore through the night.
When the attack ended, he remained on his knees.
Lusian approached slowly and drew Dainslein.
Carlo raised his agonized face.
—You don't understand...
Lusian stopped before him.
—Then explain it to me.
—We... fought for humanity...
Lusian stared at him for several seconds with contempt.
—No.
The sword fell.
Carlo screamed as his arm dropped severed into the mud.
—You fought for the whims of a god who used you as cannon fodder.
Carlo convulsed uncontrollably.
—When the spell disappears... they will destroy you...
Lusian calmly wiped the blood from his blade.
—Perhaps.
—They... will hunt you... —Carlo stammered.
Lusian raised his gaze toward the forest path.
—But you won't be here to witness it.
The second strike fell.
Another scream vanished into the trees.
Then another.
Until silence ruled the forest once more.
Lusian remained standing.
Carlo was still conscious, barely breathing.
The duke looked down the path surrounded by vegetation.
—One less.
Thunder raised its head.
Far away, muffled by the fog, the voices of the remaining heroes echoed through the forest.
Lusian's lips curved into a cold smile.
—Let's go.
The hunt had only just begun.