"...Aure... Aurelius? The Crown Prince of Tamaskrit?"
The remaining barrier scouts gasped in disbelief. A violent shiver ran down their spines that had absolutely nothing to do with the freezing night air.
"Why... why..." one of the senior Elven commanders finally spoke, his voice cracking with barely contained fury. "You vile Tamaskritian curs! Blood-sucking leeches of the wasteland! You break our historic alliance and attack us on our sacred Lunar Night?"
The commander drew his mundane blade, pointing it down at the lone armored figure. "May the World Tree rot that bastard Emperor Nihil's flesh! You will pay for this! You will pay with your wretched lives, you insolent fools!"
Aurelius simply stood there. He didn't flinch. He didn't draw his sword. He only tilted his head upwards, staring at the screaming elves through the cold, golden glow of his visor.
The senior scout turned his back to the edge of the wall, facing his remaining, terrified comrades. His eyes blazed with the dying embers of a betrayed race.
"Stand firm, children of Athervale!" his voice boomed over the howling wind, his cloak snapping violently behind him. "Our magic may sleep, but our steel does not! We are the Vanguard! We hold the line!"
Adrenaline finally surged through the veins of the paralyzed scouts. They raised their weapons, their battle cries piercing the night.
The commander turned to Eris, his face softening as he extended a hand to her. "Take command of the rear guard, Eris. Keep the core safe."
Eris nodded, her eyes glistening with tears as if deeply moved by his bravery. She reached out and grasped his hand tightly.
Thwip.
She felt something warm spray across her face.
Thud.
Eris froze. She was still holding the commander's hand, but his body was slumping backward. She opened her eyes, blinking through the sticky, metallic-smelling liquid coating her eyelashes.
The commander's head was gone.
Sliced clean off his shoulders by a force so fast it didn't even make a sound. The head had rolled to a stop right at Eris's boots. His eyes were still wide, his lips still twitching.
Eris let out a bloodcurdling scream of pure terror. She kicked out violently, sending the severed head tumbling off the two-hundred-meter drop. It plummeted into the darkness, hitting the pristine white floor below and splashing into a pulpy mess just inches away from Aurelius.
He didn't even look at it.
"Get back!" a younger scout yelled, grabbing Eris by the shoulders to pull her away from the edge.
Shhh-Thwack.
An undetectable arrow materialized from the shadows, piercing straight through the young scout's temple. The force ripped him out of Eris's grip, pinning his lifeless body to the stone floor.
Eris sank to her knees, clutching her stomach as she violently threw up onto the pristine Elven stone.
The remaining scouts didn't look down at Aurelius anymore. Slowly, terrified, they looked past him. Toward the dark horizon of the plains.
Fear gripped their throats with icy claws.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The rhythmic sound of heavy metallic boots striking the rocky earth echoed through the valley. There were six of them.
The remaining Princes of Tamaskrit.
Walking at the far right was Vane. His visor glowed a pale, eerie gray. He didn't carry a sword; his hands rested on a massive, blackened great-bow. He controlled the wind itself—meaning his arrows never made a sound, and they never missed.
Beside him walked Kyanos, his cyan visor piercing the gloom. With every step his heavy boots took, the moisture in the air froze, leaving a trail of crystallized frost on the dead earth.
Then came Ignis, radiating a deep, angry crimson light. He didn't just burn; he choked the atmosphere. Black, suffocating ash fell from his armor, searing the oxygen from the air.
Valerius walked with a violent, twitching energy, his violet visor leaving a purple trail as static electricity arced off his mantle. Beside him, Darius moved like a mountain, his emerald visor glowing as every heavy footfall sent localized tremors vibrating up the massive, two-hundred-meter Elven wall.
And finally, Malakor. His indigo visor seemed to swallow the moonlight. He walked in absolute, terrifying silence, the shadows warping and bending away from his form.
High up by the Mana Core tower, Cael cursed the gods.
He furiously slammed his fist against the mana pods. Dead. The magical holographic communications were completely offline due to the Lunar Eclipse.
"Shield wall! Form up!" Cael roared to the remaining troops. "Falcon riders, to the skies! We must warn the Royal Palace!"
A piercing whistle cut through the panic. Three majestic Knight Falcons swooped down from the roosts. Three brave scouts leaped onto their saddles, pulling the reins to take off into the night sky.
Far below, Vane didn't even break his slow, rhythmic walk. He simply raised his great-bow, pulling the blackened string back without an arrow.
The wind gathered. He let go.
It was a Forbidden Tier art. The invisible projectile shot into the sky, and at the apex of its trajectory, it shattered into a thousand separate, deadly currents of pressurized air.
It was a barrage of mass destruction.
The falcons shrieked as their bodies were shredded mid-air. One rider, desperate to survive, dove behind the massive magical shields held by the Elven Vanguard.
But Vane was a master of the sky. The arrows didn't fly straight. They bent at impossible, unnatural angles, looping around the shields and striking the scouts in the back. Bodies plummeted from the walls like rain.
The escaping falcon rider gasped as a wind-arrow pierced cleanly through the left side of his chest, leaving a gaping, bloody hole right where his heart should have been.
His falcon shrieked, an arrow tearing through its left wing. They plummeted dangerously toward the forest canopy.
"Hold on, buddy," the scout coughed, blood spilling from his lips as he desperately pulled the leash.
The falcon stabilized, its massive wings beating against the pain. It was a suicide flight, but it carried its master toward the Whispering Hollow. It was a flight that should have ended instantly, had the rider not been born with an extremely rare medical condition—Dextrocardia. His heart beat on the right side of his chest.
"Never thought I'd be happy about this, buddy," the rider whispered, petting the dying bird's neck as they made their final trip.
Back on the wall, hope was dead.
Cael looked toward the stairwell, hoping for backup from the lower sections. But down below, Darius, the Earth Prince, had casually raised a hand, summoning two colossal, impenetrable slabs of black obsidian that completely sealed off the path.
"Fuck... we are trapped," Cael cursed.
He turned back to the remaining, wounded scouts. They were bleeding, terrified, and stripped of their magic. They were lambs waiting for the slaughter.
Cael drew his sword.
"My brothers! My sisters!" Cael screamed, his voice breaking with raw, desperate emotion. "They have taken our magic! They have taken the sky! But they will not take our honor! If we die tonight, we die as the Vanguard of Athervale! My soldiers, rage! My soldiers, scream! My soldiers, fight!"
With a deafening, suicidal roar, the remaining scouts threw themselves off the wall, popping their gliders to dive head-first into the Seven Princes.
It wasn't a battle. It was a butchery.
Arrows bent and shredded them. Frost froze their blood mid-air. Fire reduced them to ash before they even hit the ground. Through it all, Aurelius just stood there, completely indifferent, not even bothering to raise his sword.
At the top of the tower, Cael clutched the glowing blue Mana Core tightly against his chest.
He turned around, tears streaming down his face as he pulled Eris into a tight embrace. "Don't worry," he whispered, burying his face in her hair. "I will protect you... As long as we have this core, we can enter the inner barrier. They can't touch us. We will do it toge—"
He paused.
A sharp, agonizing cold had suddenly bloomed in his chest.
Slowly, Cael looked down. Eris's hand was pressed firmly against his torso. A steel dagger was buried to the hilt, perfectly piercing his heart.
The blue Mana Core slipped from his trembling hands, rolling onto the white stone.
Cael looked up at his wife. His eyes were wide with a disbelief so profound it shattered his soul.
"Darling..." he choked, blood bubbling on his lips. "Why?"
Eris didn't explain. She didn't look angry. Instead, she pulled him closer, driving the dagger even deeper, tearing his heart apart physically and emotionally.
The intimacy of them sharing tea just hours ago... the warmth of her smile... the sacred vows of their wedding day... it all flashed before his fading eyes.
Eris leaned in and gently kissed his lips.
"I love you," she whispered softly.
Then, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards.
Cael stumbled over the edge of the two-hundred-meter drop. As the wind rushed past his ears, tearing him away from the wall, he didn't feel anger. He didn't feel sadness.
His face relaxed into a small, gentle smile.
I love you too, darling, he thought, closing his eyes as he fell. Stay safe.
It was a calm acceptance. At the very least, his love had been pure.
CRUNCH.
His body hit the pristine stone floor far below, a pool of dark red blood splashing out from the back of his head.
Aurelius slowly looked down at the broken, smiling corpse. For the first time all night, the imposing Crown Prince looked visibly shaken. He hadn't known Eris was an internal spy. Even through the dark helmet, an aura of utter disgust radiated from him as he looked up at the woman standing on the wall.
High above, Eris stared blankly at the blood staining the white floor.
She let out a long, heavy sigh. Without a shred of hesitation, she lifted her heavy leather boot and brought it down hard on the dropped Mana Core.
The blue crystal shattered into dust.
Instantly, the invisible mana dome surrounding Athervale rippled violently, unsettling as its power source died.
Down below, Vane raised his great-bow one last time. He notched a glowing, pulsating golden arrow—a sacred artifact infused with the combined power of Aurelius and Ignis.
He let it fly.
It shot upwards like a golden shooting star, striking the very apex of the weakened Elven barrier.
CRASH.
The sound of a trillion glass diamonds shattering echoed across the world.