The courtyard of the Obsidian Keep was no longer a place of stone and water; it was a chaotic battlefield of clashing elements.
The Solar Husks fought with the blinding, searing heat of a dying star, but the shadows of the Keep fought with the hungry persistence of the void.
Azryth and the shadow-knights flickered in and out of existence, their blades shearing through golden armor like scythes through wheat. Their primary directive was clear: ProtecttheHeir.
They formed a lethal perimeter around Valerie, but the child didn't stay behind them. She moved with a predatory grace, her dagger carving through the light-entities with a speed that left trails of violet fire in the air.
Above them, Regina stood like a conductor of destruction. She didn't need a blade. Purple and black energy radiated from her fingertips in jagged arcs, leaping from one Husk to another. Wherever her mana touched, the "divine" light was snuffed out, leaving only cold, lifeless husks of glass that crumbled into dust.
At the foot of the Forbidden Mountain, the thundering of hooves came to a violent halt. Draven, Darius, and Elarion led a contingent of the Imperial Guard, their torches flickering against the oppressive darkness.
"Forward!" Draven commanded, his sword drawn.
"We must reach the Keep!"
But as the lead horses lunged toward the mountain path, they hit an invisible wall with a sickening thud. A ripple of translucent obsidian energy shimmered into view—a barrier that stretched from the valley floor to the very clouds.
Draven leaped from his horse, slamming his fist against the cold, pulsing surface. "Regina! Open the gate!"
There was no answer. The barrier was absolute.
Regina had woven it not to trap them, but to protect them. She knew this was a war of souls and ancient blood—a war where mortal steel would melt and mortal men would be blinded by the radiant hatred of the Saintess.
"She's locked us out," Elarion whispered, staring at the titanic scale of the spell. "She's fighting that... thing... alone with the child."
"I am not leaving her!" Draven roared, his eyes wild.
He struck the barrier with the Cinderwisp Ring, the royal artifact clashing against the Sovereign's wall in a spray of sparks. The ring hummed with warning, but the wall didn't budge.
The father in him was screaming, a primal instinct to protect his daughter from the golden monsters he could see flickering in the distance.
Then, Draven stepped back, his chest heaving. He looked toward the capital, where a pillar of sickly gold light was still erupting from the Cathedral.
"She's the shield," Draven said, his voice turning cold and sharp. "But Eliosa is the source."
He turned to Elarion. "Stay here. Keep the army at the perimeter. If this barrier falls, you move in and secure the child at all costs."
"Where are you going, Highness?" Darius asked, already mounting his horse.
Draven's grip tightened on his sword, his face a mask of royal fury. "To the House of God. If Eliosa wants to burn the world with her prayers, I'm going to make sure she's the first one to ash."
Draven and Darius pivoted their horses, racing away from the mountain and toward the Church, where the Saintess was currently tearing the fabric of reality apart.