The building finally fell.
Not onto the children.
Not onto the fleeing civilians.
But into the empty street beyond.
The impact shook the district.
Stone exploded.
Dust surged into the sky.
The sound echoed across the city like thunder.
And beneath the collapsing structure...
Riven fell to one knee.
Then both.
His arms hung uselessly at his sides.
Blood dripped steadily from his fingertips.
His breathing came in ragged gasps.
Every part of him hurt.
Every movement felt impossible.
The children were safe.
That should have felt like victory.
Instead...
he could barely stay conscious.
His left eye had swollen completely shut.
His right eye struggled to focus.
Several ribs were broken.
His knee felt shattered.
His shoulder refused to respond properly.
And somewhere deep inside...
his core felt exhausted.
Not empty.
Just tired.
Dangerously tired.
For several seconds he simply knelt there.
Listening.
The city burned around him.
Screams echoed through distant streets.
The war continued.
People were still dying.
And Rigor was waiting.
Riven clenched his fist.
Pain immediately shot through his arm.
Good.
Pain meant he was still alive.
He forced himself upward.
One step.
Then another.
His body screamed.
His vision blurred.
Still...
he walked.
Elsewhere on the battlefield
The war had become slaughter.
The Second and Fourth Orders continued pressing forward with overwhelming numbers.
Third Order soldiers fought desperately.
Street by street.
Building by building.
Every victory cost blood.
Every retreat cost more.
Nyxara Veilborne stood upon a raised platform overlooking the battlefield.
Her silver eyes remained cold.
Calculating.
Watching.
Thousands of reports flooded in.
Casualties.
Lost sectors.
Destroyed formations.
The situation was becoming increasingly clear.
They could not win through conventional warfare.
Not against numbers like these.
Not against two entire Orders.
Behind her stood Eryx.
Lira.
Several captains.
All of them waiting.
Nyxara remained silent.
Then finally spoke.
"...Signal them."
The surrounding commanders stiffened.
Even Eryx's expression darkened slightly.
Because everyone knew what she meant.
The contingency.
The weapon.
The choice she had hoped never to make.
Nyxara closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them again.
Resolve hardened.
"Signal them."
Across the Third Order lines...
Silver flares suddenly launched into the sky.
One.
Two.
Ten.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Every Third Order soldier immediately reacted.
Without hesitation.
Without question.
Masks appeared.
Protective breathing masks.
Prepared long ago.
Stored for this exact moment.
Veterans secured theirs instantly.
New recruits followed.
Within seconds...
an entire army disappeared behind black protective masks.
Confusion spread through the enemy forces.
Then came the cannons.
Massive siege batteries hidden throughout Third territory rotated toward the battlefield.
Their barrels glowed.
The first volley fired.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
Metal containers soared through the air.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
They landed across the battlefield.
Among Second Order formations.
Among Fourth Order formations.
Then shattered.
At first...
nothing happened.
A faint gray mist escaped.
Barely visible.
The wind carried it.
The soldiers inhaled.
And the nightmare began.
A warrior from the Second Order blinked.
Confused.
Then coughed.
Blood splattered onto his armor.
He stared at it.
Another cough.
More blood.
Then his nose began bleeding.
His ears.
His eyes.
His mouth.
The soldier collapsed.
Dead before he hit the ground.
Nearby soldiers froze.
Then another fell.
And another.
And another.
Within minutes...
thousands were dying.
The virus entered through the nose.
Attached itself to living cells.
Then began consuming them.
Slowly.
Methodically.
Mercilessly.
Entire formations collapsed.
Soldiers screamed.
Coughed blood.
Bled from every opening.
The battlefield descended into panic.
The Third Order charged.
Their masked warriors surged forward.
Taking advantage of the chaos.
Blades fell.
Axes swung.
Spears pierced weakened enemies.
The tide of battle shifted.
For the first time all day...
the Third Order advanced.
Back within the protected command sector
Selene Astrae watched the devastation unfold.
Her expression remained unreadable.
But her eyes had hardened.
She raised one hand.
Moonlight erupted around her.
Ancient runes appeared in the air.
A massive barrier formed.
Silver energy expanded outward.
Protecting everything within its radius.
The mist struck the barrier.
Then parted harmlessly around it.
Inside stood:
Selene.
Her husband.
Caelum Oris
The Alpha of the Second Order.
Caelum Valen.
Malika Redveil.
Ysara Moonveil.
Elite commanders.
Protected forces.
All untouched.
All alive.
Outside the barrier...
millions were not so fortunate.
Selene's gaze shifted.
And narrowed.
Two figures stood among the infected.
Raxor Bloodclash.
First Lieutenant of the Second.
Vaelor Fang.
First Lieutenant of the Fourth.
Both were already dying.
Blood streamed from their eyes.
Their breathing had become ragged.
Their bodies shook from internal damage.
Yet neither retreated.
Neither surrendered.
They continued fighting.
For pride.
For honor.
For their Orders.
For stubbornness.
Eryx appeared before them.
Shadow gathered around him.
His eyes were cold.
No mockery.
No smile.
Only duty.
Raxor roared and charged.
His blood techniques erupted around him.
Wild.
Desperate.
Dying.
Eryx sidestepped effortlessly.
One movement.
One slash.
His claws crossed Raxor's throat.
Silence.
Then blood exploded outward.
Raxor staggered.
His hands reached toward his neck.
His windpipe severed.
His voice gone forever.
Moments later...
he collapsed.
Dead.
The First Lieutenant of the Second Order had fallen.
Vaelor charged immediately after.
A final desperate attack.
His body already failing.
His vision fading.
Eryx met him head-on.
A brutal exchange followed.
Then
Eryx seized Vaelor's arm.
Twisted.
And threw him into the air.
The Fourth Lieutenant barely had time to react.
A silver blur flashed upward.
Lira.
Her blade moved once.
Only once.
A perfect strike.
Vaelor froze.
Then split cleanly apart.
His body crashed to the ground.
Lifeless.
The First Lieutenant of the Fourth Order was dead.
The battlefield seemed to pause.
Two legendary warriors.
Gone.
Not through overwhelming power.
But because the virus had already condemned them.
Inside the barrier...
Selene's eyes sharpened.
Her calm finally cracked.
Anger.
Cold.
Dangerous anger.
Meanwhile
Malika Redveil and Ysara Moonveil moved simultaneously.
Intercepting Lira.
The clash erupted instantly.
Blood techniques collided with shadow techniques.
The battle exploded into chaos.
Elsewhere
Caelum Valen laughed.
A savage sound.
The Alpha of the Second Order stepped forward.
Beside him stood Selene's husband.
Both powerful.
Both furious.
Both targeting the same person.
Eryx.
The Shadow Fang Captain simply sighed.
"...Of course."
Then darkness erupted around him.
The ground shattered.
His claws extended.
And he charged.
The collision that followed rocked the battlefield.
Meanwhile
Far from the main war.
Far from the virus.
Far from Nyxara.
Far from Eryx.
Riven limped through ruined streets.
Blood dripping behind him.
His body barely functioning.
His vision fading.
And ahead of him...
waiting atop a collapsed tower...
stood Rigor.
Watching.
Smiling.
Patient.
Like a predator waiting for wounded prey to return.
The giant warrior rose slowly.
Cracked his neck.
Then looked down at Riven.
"You're still alive."
Riven wiped blood from his mouth.
"...Unfortunately for you."
Rigor laughed.
A deep.
Satisfied laugh.
Then jumped from the tower.
The ground exploded beneath his landing.
Dust rose.
Stone shattered.
And once more
The two warriors faced each other.
Broken.
Bleeding.
Unfinished.
The war raged behind them.
But neither cared anymore.
Because their battlefield had become something else entirely.
Something personal.
Something inevitable.
And beneath the crimson glow of the Blood Moon
Rigor smiled.
Riven raised his blades.
And the battle resumed.