Luciana and Liam stood inside the leaders' tent with Timon and Helen. A single lantern hung from the center pole and filled the canvas space with dull yellow light. Maps, marked with fresh ink and pinned down, covered the wide wooden table between them. The smell of dust, leather, and cold steel lingered in the still air. No one spoke until Timon broke the silence.
"Where are the kingdom's reinforcements?"
"They sent me," Luciana said. She did not shift her stance or lower her gaze.
"That wasn't the plan." Timon's jaw tightened, and a muscle jumped along his cheek.
"Which one of your plans has worked so far?" Luciana shot back.
The words landed hard. Timon's shoulders squared, and the tension in the tent sharpened. "Listen, kid…"
Luciana lifted her hand and cut him off. "Kid? I am nearly four hundred years old, kid." She leaned forward slightly and pressed the last word with deliberate force. She let the silence stretch for a heartbeat before continuing. "The kingdom follows the Creator's orders. They need the rest of their forces elsewhere. Do not worry. I am far more useful than your missing reinforcements."
Mana burst from Timon's body without warning. The lantern's flame flickered as the air grew heavy and charged. The fabric walls strained and rippled as if a storm pressed from inside the tent.
Liam lifted his arm to shield his face, bracing for the blast, but the force never reached him. Helen reacted in an instant. She raised both hands and cast a barrier around Timon and the entire tent, sealing the surge inside before it could spill outward and kill the weaker soldiers nearby.
Timon's voice dropped into a cold, steady tone. "Only Dimont vampires share your traits and survive four centuries. That makes you an enemy, and I should kill you here and now."
"Timon…" Helen warned, her voice low and sharp, but he ignored her.
"I received forgiveness through the Creator's will," Luciana said.
She stood her ground even as the mana pressed against her skin like a rising storm. Timon outmatched her in power, and she knew it. Still, she refused to step back or wait for him to strike.
"He is not my god. I barely know anything about him. Maybe he is evil too. Maybe I should hunt him too." Timon stepped forward, boots pressing into the rough canvas floor.
Luciana clenched her teeth and forced her racing thoughts into order. She searched for anything that could stop what came next.
But then a sudden surge of power tore through her body. It struck like lightning and spread through her veins, hot and sharp.
Her eyes snapped open. Red and white fog burst outward in thick waves. It rolled across the ground, swallowed the tent, and erased the lantern light in seconds. The maps, the table, the walls, everything dissolved into a silent, endless haze.
Cold air replaced the warmth of the tent. The ground beneath their feet turned into smooth white stone that stretched in every direction. The sky above turn into a deep white and crimson space.
Timon spun around. Luciana and Liam had vanished. He spotted Helen a few steps away. She stood frozen, her shoulders stiff and her eyes locked on something far ahead. He followed her gaze.
Ten figures stood in the distance, arranged in a loose line. Dense fog wrapped around eight of them and hid their forms. Only two stood clear.
Luciana and Liam.
A glowing mark burned behind each of them. A massive orb of blood hovered behind Luciana, pulsing like a second heart. Behind Liam, a lion made of golden light stood tall and still, its mane moving like fire in slow motion.
Timon froze for a heartbeat. Then he forced his breathing to slow. He was an S rank. He drew his sword, the metal ringing sharp in the silent space.
Two enormous red eyes opened behind the distant figures. They filled the sky and dwarfed the horizon.
"This moment is the limit of my patience with mortals. Oppose me, and you declare yourselves servants of the Destroyer. Stand in my path, and I will unmake you as I would him." The words pressed down like the weight of the world.
The red eyes vanished. The fog collapsed inward. The camp snapped back into place. The lantern flickered. The maps returned to the table. The tent walls rustled as if nothing had happened.
Luciana fixed her gaze on Timon. "What is your choice?" The Creator's power filled her chest and burned away every trace of doubt.
Liam stood beside her, shoulders squared and silent.
Timon held his sword for a long moment. Then he slid it back into its sheath. "You can leave."
Luciana gave a short nod and walked out with Liam, leaving Timon and Helen in stunned silence as they struggled to process what they had witnessed.
Timon stood frozen for minutes, his body refusing to obey him. The display of power alone should have been enough to break him.
But it was the being's words that made sweat run down his spine. It had not mentioned the God of Light, it had spoken of the Destroyer, the most evil entity known to the world.
And it did so as though the God of Light did not matter at all.
…
Leo, Elna, Selina, and Miriam sat around the wide desk in the captain's cabin while Leo explained his plans. The room smelled of salt, ink, and polished wood. Lantern light swayed with the motion of the ship and cast long shadows across the maps spread over the table. Outside, waves struck the hull in a steady rhythm.
Leo stopped mid-sentence. His voice cut off without warning. He closed his eyes and held still, hands resting on the edge of the desk. The silence stretched. The creaking of wood and the distant wind filled the room while the others exchanged uneasy looks. Nearly two minutes passed before he opened his eyes again.
"What is it? Are you okay?" Selina asked, leaning forward.
"I'm fine." Leo's expression had changed. A faint irritation sharpened his features, and tension showed in his shoulders.
He drew a slow breath and continued. "As I was saying, a war will erupt soon. When the God of Light breaks free, the Creator will have to act. That will trigger a massive war. The enemy already have more than one S-rank fighter and three gods."
"Three gods? And then what? The Creator will stop them all?" Miriam asked, frowning.
"No. The Creator has not regained his full form yet. He will fight the God of Light. The Goddess of the Moon will stop the Mad God. The next part is where I need your help. I want you to fight alongside the other S-ranks to defeat the God of Magic."
"What? You want the captain to fight a god?" Miriam's voice rose in shock, but Selina raised a hand and silenced her before the outburst could grow.
"How many S-ranks will take part in this fight?" Selina asked. Her tone stayed calm, but her fingers tightened against the arm of her chair.
"If everything goes as planned, five S-ranks. And one other A5 who stands close to S-rank. Someone like you."
"Five S-ranks and two A5 to stop a god…" Selina murmured. Her gaze drifted to the small window where gray waves rolled under a heavy sky.
"Captain, you're not actually thinking about this, right?" Miriam said, her voice tense.
"And what if I refuse?" Selina asked, turning back to Leo.
"Then our chances of winning drop. If we fail, the enemy will hunt you down and kill you as well."
"How do you know?"
"It has always been their plan. When the Destroyer breaks free, he will destroy everything to prepare for the war against the Void."
"Let's say I agree. What if the Beast God appears? Our chances already sound close to nothing," Selina said.
"I do not have a plan for that yet."
Selina exhaled slowly and rubbed her temple. "I need time to think."
Leo nodded. He pushed his chair back and stood. Elna rose with him. "Then we will give you space."
He turned toward the door, then stopped when he noticed Elna remained still.
"You go ahead. I want to say something." She gave a small smile.
Leo nodded and left with Miriam. The door shut behind them with a soft click. The sound of the sea returned to fill the quiet.
Selina leaned back in her chair. "Do you need something?"
Elna stepped forward, stopped beside the desk, and bowed her head. "Please teach me shadow magic. I need to grow stronger, and I need it fast."
Selina studied her in silence for several seconds. She would do this only for two reasons, love or revenge. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. "We start tomorrow."
…
Arthur sat alone inside the tent, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground. He sank so deep into his thoughts that he never heard the flap open behind him. Briva stepped inside and rested her hand on his shoulder. Arthur jolted upright, his hand moving toward his weapon before he recognized her.
"Are you alright?" Briva asked.
"Yes. I was just thinking." He forced a casual tone, though tension still lingered in his posture.
"You know you can talk about it. Even for someone with experience, killing people who are weaker than you can leave a mark." She spoke gently but did not look away.
"This is war. If I had not killed them, they would have killed our soldiers." He shook his head. "That is not what troubles me. I keep thinking about how the enemy will react to this defeat. Prince Iason commands far more troops than the ones we faced, and he always hides a trick up his sleeve."
"We can stop him. We will stop him."
Arthur looked at her and smiled. "You have always been optimistic."
He leaned forward and kissed her.
A moment later, he straightened and pushed himself to his feet. "Where is Marco?"
"He is helping the soldiers build the defenses."
"It is time for his training." Arthur stepped out of the tent without hesitation.
…
Deep in the Shadowlands, an orc sprinted through the center of the war camp toward the largest tent. Jagged stakes and crude banners ringed the clearing, and dozens of fire pits filled the night with smoke and a dull orange glow. The air smelled of ash, sweat, and dryed blood. Warriors turned their heads as he ran past, but none tried to stop him. The guards at the command tent stepped aside the moment they recognized him.
He pushed through the heavy hide entrance and hurried inside.
Two chieftains sat at a rough wooden table carved with knife marks and stained with old spills. Weapons rested within arm's reach. A half-alive human soldier lay on the dirt floor nearby, wrists bound, his breathing shallow and uneven.
Across from them stood Thavuk.
"What is it?" one of the chieftains asked.
"Great Thavuk, a message has arrived." The messenger pulled a sealed parchment from his belt pouch and held it out with both hands.
A hand formed from swirling void appeared beside Thavuk. Darkness twisted into fingers, seized the parchment, and slipped back toward him. Thavuk read in silence. His expression never changed. After a minute, he flicked the parchment aside as if it held no weight.
"What does it say?" the chieftain pressed.
Thavuk gave no answer. The second chieftain picked up the parchment and read it quickly.
"It reports an attack on our camp. Heavy casualties."
The first chieftain turned toward Thavuk. "Should we return?"
"No." Thavuk's voice rumbled low and heavy. "That is exactly what they want."
He rose and walked toward the tent entrance. He towered over the other orcs, nearly twice their height. Faint lines of void energy traced across his dark skin like cracks in stone.
"We march tomorrow with all our forces."
He stopped beside the human prisoner and seized him by the neck with one massive hand. The man's skin shriveled as the life drained from him. His eyes widened, but no sound escaped. Within seconds, his body collapsed into a dry husk of skin and bone.
"I will show that druid how the void destroys his precious nature."