Elara moved silently through the forest, her steps as light as shadows merging with the night. Leon held Lily's hand and followed behind, struggling over uneven ground, the damp leaves crunching softly beneath his feet. The deep woods were thick with the earthy scent of moss and soil, occasionally broken by the eerie cry of a night owl. Each sound made Leon tighten his grip on the dagger at his waist.
"Why did the Shadow Covenant attack the human kingdom?" Leon finally broke the silence, his voice low but filled with urgency. "What do they even want?"
Elara glanced sideways, her emerald eyes glinting between the trees. "They seek 'chaos.'" Her voice carried a chill. "Fifty years ago, they tried to consume the Elven Grove using the 'Shadow Rift,' but were sealed away by the First Archdruid with the power of the Sacred Tree. Now it seems their strength has not only returned—it has grown."
Leon's heart sank. The old legends were real after all—and his home had become the latest victim of this ancient evil. He thought of his father's knightly sword, of the runes carved into the city walls by master scribes—those very symbols of human might, now shattered so easily before the darkness.
"What about the human kingdom…?" Leon asked, his voice trembling. He dared not imagine whether the capital, Lotharen, had suffered the same fate.
Elara stopped and turned to face him fully. "I saw smoke signals on my way here. The 'Holy Light Shield' around the capital still holds, but the western防线(line) has collapsed. Monsters are advancing inland." She paused, her tone darkening. "Worse yet, there may be trouble within the kingdom itself—the Silver Knights, who should have reinforced the front line, have remained silent."
"That's impossible!" Leon blurted out. "The Silver Knights are the pride of the kingdom! My father always said they would never—"
"Pride can shatter before power," Elara interrupted sharply, her gaze like a blade. "Three days ago, the Chancellor's office suddenly locked down the Arcane Academy under the pretense of 'cleansing heresy.' The Rune Masters have been detained, and even the Grandmaster has vanished."
Lily clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. "Do you think… the Chancellor is a traitor?"
"It's too early to say for sure," Elara replied, "but the signs are clear—the Shadow Covenant's influence runs deeper than we imagined." She resumed walking. "My camp lies beyond this valley. There are other human refugees there. Perhaps we'll learn more."
Passing through a grove of stone pillars covered in glowing moss, they spotted flickering firelight ahead. Dozens of crude tents were scattered across the open valley floor. Wounded men, women, and children sat around the fires, the air heavy with the scent of herbs and despair. A few villagers armed with hunting bows stood guard until they recognized Elara's figure, then relaxed.
"Lady Elara, you've returned!" A middle-aged woman with a bandaged face rushed forward. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Leon and Lily. "And these are…"
"Survivors from Lotharen," Elara answered briefly, gesturing toward an elderly man in a gray robe tending to the wounded. "Mr. Burton, they need food and medicine."
Burton looked up, lines of exhaustion etched into his wrinkled face. "We have some roasted oat cakes left, but our healing herbs are running low." He turned to Leon, sympathy clouding his cloudy eyes. "Son, where are your parents?"
Leon's throat tightened, words failing him. Lily whispered, "They… they were taken by the monsters."
The old man sighed and patted Leon's shoulder before limping off to fetch food. Meanwhile, Elara approached a large rock in the center of the camp, where a rough leather map lay unfurled. A few mercenaries in worn armor stood nearby, speaking in hushed tones.
Leon stared at the warm bowl of oat porridge in his hands but found no appetite. As he watched the maimed soldiers and listened to the cries of infants and coughs of the elderly, a wave of helplessness crashed over him. Was this the kingdom he swore vengeance for? So fragile, like a candle flickering in the wind?
"Leon!"
A familiar voice rang out. Leon looked up to see a boy in battered apprentice armor limping toward him, bruises darkening his face. It was Tom—one of the knights' sons, and once a playmate.
"Tom! You're alive!" Leon shot to his feet, nearly spilling his bowl. "Where's my father? What happened to the knights?"
Tom's smile faltered. He lowered his head, silent for a long moment before answering hoarsely, "The Sunset防线(line) fell. There were 'Dread Lords' among the monsters—shadow-wielding sorcerers. The knights… barely anyone survived."
"Where's my father?!" Leon grabbed Tom's shoulders, shaking him desperately. "Tell me! Where is he?!"
Tom winced, tears welling in his eyes. "The Commander—he stayed behind to cover our retreat. He was struck by a Dread Lord's shadow claw and fell into the abyssal rift… I saw it happen."
"No… no, that's not possible…" Leon let go, staggering back as if his bones had turned to dust. His father's towering figure, his stern lessons with the sword, his final farewell—all flashed before his eyes, ending on the terrible phrase: *fell into the abyssal rift.*
He dropped to his knees, pounding his fists into the dirt until blood seeped from beneath his nails—not from pain, but from grief and rage. Mother, sister, Foster, father… his entire world shattered in mere days.
"Shadow Covenant…" Leon growled, his voice like a beast's snarl, blood dripping from his reopened wound. "I will kill every last one of you… without mercy."
Tom knelt beside him, sobbing. "I want revenge too! But what do we do now? Even the capital might not hold!"
At that moment, Elara's voice rang out from the rock, steady and commanding:
"We go to the Frostwind Tundra."
All heads turned. Elara pointed to a snow-covered region on the map. "There, the Orcish 'Frostwolf Clan' has fought against shadow creatures for generations. And…" She hesitated, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "Legend says the first Chieftain received visions from the Earth Mother herself—visions that tell how to awaken the slumbering 'Elemental Relics.'"
"Elemental Relics?" Mr. Burton hobbled closer, leaning on his cane. "You mean the seven legendary artifacts forged by elves and humans in ancient times? The ones said to command wind, fire, water, and earth?"
"Exactly," Elara confirmed. "The Shadow Covenant draws its power from chaos. The Elemental Relics represent natural order. Only by uniting them can we truly oppose the core of their power."
Leon lifted his head, red eyes burning with new fire. This wasn't just revenge anymore—it was hope for saving all of Azlan. He pushed himself upright, walked to the map, and pressed his finger firmly on the Frostwind Tundra.
"I'm going."
Tom wiped his tears and clenched his fist. "I'm coming with you!"
Elara studied the boys' determined expressions, a rare trace of warmth softening her emerald gaze. "Good. But the Frostwind Tundra isn't just icy winds and snow. There are also 'Frostfang Wolves' corrupted by shadow magic. We'll need more hands—and," she turned to Leon, "someone who knows the secret paths through the human kingdom."
Leon took a deep breath, pushing past his sorrow, and spoke with a resolve he'd never felt before. "I know a hidden passage—from the underground tunnels of Lotharen to the northern gates. My father showed it to me during a secret patrol. I never thought it would become our only escape."
"Then it's decided." Elara drew her dagger and slashed a curved path onto the map. "At dawn, we split into two groups—one stays to evacuate the wounded, the other follows me to Lotharen. Leon—you lead the way."
The fire crackled as the night deepened, casting flickering light on the young faces hardened by loss and determination. The crisis of the human kingdom continued to spread, but amid the ruins of despair, a seed called *hope* had quietly begun to sprout.
Their journey would begin in the heart of the crumbling capital, heading north into the frozen wilds, seeking the lost power of the elements—and perhaps, redemption itself.