The city of Suryavansh was now nothing more than a flickering, sickly orange glow on the horizon—a funeral pyre for a civilization that had lasted a thousand years. As Aryan and Mira stepped deeper into the Elara Forest, the temperature dropped sharply. The air here didn't smell like smoke; it smelled of damp earth, ancient moss, and something else... something magical and cold.
Aryan's breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. Every muscle in his body felt like it was being pulled apart by red-hot pincers. The "Solar Flash" he had unleashed at the Southern Gate was a high-tier technique of the Royal Guard, one that required years of physical conditioning. His body, exhausted from days of constant siege and lack of sleep, was screaming in protest.
"Aryan... you're bleeding again. A lot," Mira whispered. Her voice was small, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the giant oaks.
She was right. The wound on his shoulder, which had been a dull ache during the fight, was now a pulsing fountain of crimson. The dark energy from the Centurion's blade had prevented the blood from clotting, leaving a jagged, black-rimmed gash that looked like a rot.
"I'm... I'm fine, Mira. We just need to find a place to hide before the sun comes up," Aryan managed to say, though his legs felt like lead. He leaned heavily against a massive, moss-covered tree, his hand still white-knuckled around the hilt of the Core-Breaker.
Suddenly, the forest went dead silent. The constant chirping of crickets stopped as if a hand had been placed over the mouth of the woods. Even the wind, which had been whistling through the leaves, seemed to hold its breath.
Vrrrrmmmm.
The Core-Breaker, though back in its rusted, dull state, began to vibrate against Aryan's hip. It wasn't a pulse of power this time; it was a warning. A low hum that resonated in Aryan's very bones.
"Behind me! Now!" Aryan commanded, his voice regaining a sliver of its authority. He shoved Mira toward the hollow of a massive, ancient oak.
From the thick, swirling fog of the forest floor, three pairs of glowing yellow eyes emerged. These weren't the Shadow Hounds they had encountered in the city. Those were creatures of pure magic; these were creatures of flesh turned foul. They were Blight-Wolves—noble forest predators that had been corrupted by the Necromancer King's spreading rot. Their fur was falling off in wet patches, revealing grey, pulsing veins, and a thick green ichor dripped from their elongated fangs.
The largest wolf, the alpha, let out a growl that sounded like stones grinding together in a grave. It lunged with terrifying speed.
Aryan tried to draw his sword, but his fingers were numb, frozen by the necrotic poison in his system. He couldn't clear the blade from the scabbard. Instead, he swung the entire weapon like a club, meeting the wolf mid-air. The heavy scabbard slammed into the beast's ribs with a sickening thud, knocking it aside, but the impact sent a jolt of agony through Aryan's wounded shoulder.
He stumbled. The second wolf didn't miss its chance. It lunged low, its teeth sinking deep into Aryan's calf.
"AGH!" Aryan roared, the sound echoing through the dark canopy. He kicked the beast away with his free leg, sending it tumbling into the undergrowth, but he fell to one knee. His vision began to swim. Black spots danced at the edges of his sight.
"No! Leave him alone! Get away!" Mira screamed.
She did something Aryan didn't expect. Instead of staying hidden, she ran out from the tree, her small hands clutching the Lunar Fragment hanging from her neck. Her face was pale, tears streaming down her cheeks, but her eyes were fixed on the wolves.
As the Alpha wolf recovered and turned its hungry, glowing gaze toward her, the pendant began to pulse. At first, it was a soft, rhythmic glow, like a heartbeat. But as the wolf snarled and prepared to spring at the girl's throat, the fragment erupted. A pillar of cold, silver radiance shot upward, pushing back the shadows of the forest for fifty yards in every direction.
The wolves whined, their sensitive eyes burning under the pure, celestial light. They backed away, their fur sizzling where the light touched them. But the corruption in them was deep; they were too hungry, too maddened by the Necromancer's influence to retreat for long. The Alpha gathered its strength, its muscles bunching for a final, lethal jump.
Twang.
The sound of a bowstring was like a harp note in the darkness.
An arrow, trailing a streak of emerald-green energy, hissed through the air. It didn't just hit the Alpha wolf; it pierced its skull and exploded into a burst of leafy sparks. The beast didn't even have time to yelp before it turned into a pile of vines and dust.
Two more arrows followed in a heartbeat—Twang! Twang!—pinning the remaining wolves to the ground before they could even turn to run.
"Stay still, child of the Moon," a melodic, yet stern voice echoed from the high branches. "And you, Warrior of the Sun... do not reach for that blade if you wish to see another dawn."
A figure dropped from the canopy, landing silently on the mossy ground. It was a woman, tall and lithe, her movements possessing a fluid grace that no human could replicate. She was dressed in leather armor crafted from shimmering green scales that seemed to change color with the shadows. Her ears were long and pointed, and her eyes—sharp and predatory—were the color of deep forest moss. In her hand, she held a longbow carved from a single piece of Weirwood, still humming with residual magic.
An Elf.
The Elves of Elara had stayed neutral in the war, hiding behind their magical mists while the human kingdoms burned. To see one this far north was impossible.
"An Outlander and a Lunar-Bearer... here?" The Elf said, her bow half-drawn, the glowing arrowhead pointed directly at Aryan's throat. "The mists of this forest kill those who enter without an invitation. How is it that you still breathe?"
Aryan looked up at her, his strength finally failing. The silver light from Mira's pendant was fading, and the world was turning gray. He saw the Elf's eyes soften for a split second as she noticed the crest of the Royal Guard on his chest—and then she looked at the rusted sword in his hand. Her breath hitched.
"The Core-Breaker..." she whispered, her voice losing its edge. "So the prophecy of the Fallen Sun was true."
Aryan tried to speak, to ask if they were safe, but his lungs felt like they were filled with water. "We... seek the Resistance... the Southern Cross..." he managed to rasp out.
The Elf stepped forward, her boots making no sound on the dry leaves. She knelt beside him, placing a cool hand on his forehead. Her touch felt like ice, but it immediately began to dull the fire in his veins.
"The Resistance is a dream of the past, Warrior," she said quietly. "But for the girl's sake, and for the sake of that blade you carry, I will not let the forest claim you tonight."
Mira rushed to Aryan's side, sobbing as she grabbed his hand. "Is he going to die? Please, Miss Leaf-Lady, don't let him die!"
The Elf looked at Mira, then at the glowing pendant. A look of profound realization crossed her face. "He is poisoned by the Obsidian rot. My village is the only place where the cure grows, but it is a three-day trek. He will have to endure the Walk of Shadows."
"I... I'll help him!" Mira said bravely, wiping her eyes.
The Elf stood up, slinging her bow over her shoulder. She whistled a low, bird-like note. From the darkness, two massive stags with antlers that glowed like starlight emerged, bowing their heads.
"I am Sylvia, Warden of the Inner Circle," the Elf announced, her voice echoing with a strange power. "You are now under the protection of the Green Throne. But be warned, Warrior—once you enter our realm, there is no turning back. The Necromancer King will know where you are. The hunt will become a war."
Aryan wanted to argue, to say he could walk, but the darkness finally claimed him. His grip on the Core-Breaker loosened, and as he slipped into unconsciousness, he saw a vision of a giant white tree, its branches reaching for the stars, and a voice—ancient and cold—whispered in his mind:
"Wake up, Last Son. The cycle begins again."