The battle was over.
The sky above the crater glowed a bruised, soft orange, streaked with the ghosts of fading clouds and drifting dust. Eiden remained on his knees in the epicenter of the ruin, staring blankly at the horizon through the haze. His breaths were shallow, rattling in his chest. His body trembled with a deep, systemic exhaustion that made the world tilt.
He was too tired to think. Too tired to move. Too tired to even acknowledge the broken blade lying just out of reach. The wind brushed past him, carrying the last grains of black and white sand across the cooling ground.
Footsteps approached. Slow, then accelerating.
Eiden turned his head weakly as silhouettes formed against the orange sky—Civilar, Yajin, and Uzak'me.
"Jeez, you look like shit," Yajin remarked, dropping to one knee beside him. He slid Eiden's arm over his shoulder with practiced ease and hoisted him up, supporting the warrior's dead weight. "Come on, man. Up you go."
Civilar stepped past them, his eyes narrowing at the motionless figure lying in the deep hollow of the crater.
"So that's him," Civilar muttered, his voice a mix of curiosity and cold calculation. "The Dark Knight. Interesting." He shrugged, turning away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Alright, let's go. He'll likely die soon anyway."
Uzak'me bent down, reclaiming Eiden's longsword. The metal was still humming with residual aura, warm to the touch. He sheathed it at Eiden's lower back with careful precision before joining the retreat.
"Thank…" Eiden's whisper was a ghost of a sound before his eyes drifted shut and his head slumped forward into unconsciousness.
Yajin tightened his grip. "Yeah, yeah. Save the gratitude for when you can actually stand."
Civilar glanced back over his shoulder. "Does he have any fatal wounds?"
Uzak'me monitored Eiden's pulse and the faint, lingering glow beneath his skin. "No. Just total depletion. He burned through his mana reserves and started on his life force. He needs rest, nothing more."
Civilar nodded. "I see—"
A sudden whoosh of displaced air cut through the silence.
The trio spun around. A massive black dragon dropped from the clouds like a falling mountain, its talons locking around the Dark Knight's limp form. Its wings beat once, a thunderous crack that sent a gale across the field as it coiled its claws protectively around the fallen knight.
"Damn," Civilar growled, his blades manifesting in a shower of black particles. "We should've finished him. Now his pack is coming to collect him."
He bolted forward, a streak of lethal intent—but the air blurred in front of him.
A woman materialized from the dust. She was tall, muscular, her long black hair whipping like a flag of war behind her. Her black armor gleamed with a predatory sheen. Before Civilar could strike, she lashed out with a single, devastating kick.
The impact sent Civilar hurtling across the field, skidding through the sand for thirty yards before slamming to a halt. In one fluid motion, the woman leapt onto the dragon's back. She gripped its scales as the beast ascended, vanishing into the darkening sky within seconds.
Civilar pushed himself up, rubbing a bruised jaw. "That little—" He cut himself off, exhaling a sharp, ragged breath. "She packs one hell of a kick. Could've snapped my neck."
"No point chasing them," Uzak'me said calmly, his eyes on the receding speck in the sky. "They clearly have powerful allies."
Civilar clicked his tongue, his blades dissolving into smoke. "Yeah. You're right."
Hours bled into evening. The sky shifted from orange to a deep, royal purple by the time they reached the castle. Reia and Ou'weii were already waiting at the threshold. The moment Reia saw Eiden slumped over Yajin, she vanished from her spot and reappeared at his side.
"Oh shit—what happened to him?!" she demanded, snatching Eiden into her arms. She didn't wait for an explanation, carrying him inside with a strength that belied her frame.
The others trailed in behind her.
"He crossed paths with the Dark Knight," Uzak'me explained. "The power scale was… significant."
"And the guy isn't alone," Yajin added. "A dragon snatched him up. Civilar tried to intervene, but some lady humbled him."
"Watch it," Civilar snapped.
Inside, Reia laid Eiden across a bed, his hair spilling over the pillow in a mess of dust and sweat. His clothes were little more than rags held together by dried blood and aura.
"He'll be out for at least three days," Reia said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "We leave him be. No missions, no scouting. We wait for him to recover."
Yajin crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Why? You think he's carrying the whole team?"
Reia shot him a look that could have withered stone. "Eiden is part of the triad. You, Eiden, and Civilar are our blades—our brutes. I'm the shadow. Ou'weii and Uzak'me are the shield. We don't function if a blade is broken. If we run into another Knight while he's like this, we all die."
Civilar nodded slowly. "She's right. Let's not argue. Give him his time. When he wakes, we get back to it."
He turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hall. The others followed, leaving Eiden to rest in the quiet, flickering glow of the lantern light.