The deeper Rhys pressed into the desolate forest, the air grew heavier, as though the trees themselves remembered wars too ancient for words. Their bark was scorched in places, their roots blackened, and the ground beneath him bore the faint trace of ash, long since settled but never forgotten.
A low rumble shook through the soil. Heat followed, washing through the silence. When Rhys looked ahead, he saw the clearing—lit not by moonlight, but by a flickering blaze that clung unnaturally to a figure in the center.
It was a knight once, or something that wore the armor of one. Now it was engulfed in an eternal fire, its steel warped and molten, its visor hollow save for the inferno burning within. The Flaming Revenant stood still at first, sword resting against the scorched earth.
When it lifted its weapon, flames burst outward in a sudden storm, licking the ruined forest around them.
Rhys stepped forward, Aether Vein singing with mana as he called out softly, "Puddle. Bounce."
