Inside the winding tunnels of Korta, the clash raged.
Fuad leapt high, his blade flashing with venomous light. A toxic strike burst from its edge, striking one of the cloaked figures and sending him reeling.
Kras barely deflected a flurry of blows before being thrown backward. A dark figure lunged toward him—only to be intercepted by Fuad's swift counter.
"Damn it... Thanks, Fuad," Kras gasped.
"I haven't fought in ages."
"No time for nostalgia," Fuad replied.
"We need to move."
Jabir raised his weapon—a strange, rune-etched firearm carved from fine wood and inlaid with gold and rare gems. A blazing orb of fire, wrapped in arcane energy, exploded from its barrel and struck the necromancer, sending him sprawling.
The necromancer rose, chanting a spell—but Jabir unleashed a barrage of magical blasts, cutting him off.
Fuad stared.
"Where did you get that weapon?"
Jabir smirked.
"From a distant land—beyond the seas, in the kingdom of Lunithra.
If you behave, I might take you there."
"In your dreams, you arrogant bastard."
---
At the Gate — Sylvance's Duel
Sylvance clashed with a member of the Black Order in a deadly, rapid exchange. Sparks flew with every strike, their blades singing through the air.
The enemy roared:
"Symphony of Death!"
A wave of dark magic surged from his blade, slicing sideways with brutal force. A storm of wind followed, howling through the tunnels.
Sylvance leapt back, drew a glowing arrow inscribed with ancient runes. Her eyes shimmered green.
She whispered:
"Forest's Calm..."
The arrow ignited with emerald light and collided with the dark wave. The impact shook the tunnels. Guards fled in terror.
The arrow pierced the enemy's chest, purging him in a blaze of green fire.
He fell to his knees.
"Damn you... forest sprite..."
And vanished.
Sylvance staggered toward the gate, clutching her head. The sky above had turned black. Her body weakened. She leaned against the wall, trembling.
She looked up.
"No... this can't be..."
Tears streamed down her face.
"Grandmother... what happened to the village?"
A green comet blazed across Silva's dark sky.
"I don't know what happened...
But it seems... my village...
It's gone."
She clenched her fists.
"Thank you, Grandmother.
I'll destroy them.
I'll protect the child.
I'll fulfill your wish."
She stepped through the gate.
---
Reunion in the Tunnels
Jabir turned as Sylvance approached. The room fell silent—guards, assassins, and mercenaries watching.
"Sylvance... you came."
He paused, seeing her tear-streaked face.
His expression changed.
A strange aura rippled through the tunnels.
Kras and Fuad felt it—a chill, a shift.
Jabir's voice dropped.
"Sylvance... what happened?"
"Nothing...
Just... my village... it's..."
A voice from the crowd:
"I heard rumors.
They say the Luminous Tree Village fell...
To the same ones you're fighting."
Sylvance covered her face, trembling.
Jabir inhaled deeply.
His weapon pulsed—blue and red gems glowing.
He stepped forward, pulled Sylvance into an embrace.
"Don't worry.
Anyone who dares harm my caravan...
Will face Jabir himself.
And history will remember it."
His aura flared.
He turned to his mercenaries, Fuad, and Kras.
"Let's move."
The necromancer stirred, summoning shadows.
Jabir fired a single, cold blast.
The tunnels lit up.
The temperature dropped.
The necromancer fell.
---
The Storm Above Silva
Jabir and Sylvance emerged from the tunnels.
Rain poured.
Lightning struck towers.
Citizens fled.
Buildings collapsed.
Guards scattered.
Jabir raised his voice:
"People of Aurik!
Stay calm!
I'm heading to the royal palace.
I'll do what I can!"
The crowd quieted.
Guards felt a strange calm.
One approached Jabir.
"We were ordered to arrest you...
But now... everything's chaos.
My family is here.
Please... go.
Prince Asser can't control the people.
Something worse may come."
Jabir nodded.
Sylvance beside him.
Fuad and Kras followed.
---
The March to the Palace
Fuad turned to Kras.
"Are you sure about this?
You've got nothing to gain."
Kras, soaked in rain, replied:
"How can I not care?
If Aurik falls, Korta falls.
Delyn died protecting you and the child.
I'll finish what he started."
Jabir looked at him.
"Kras, right?
I need a favor."
"Everything has a price."
"You're outside the tunnels now.
Help me, and I'll pay you.
Whatever you want."
Kras hesitated.
Sylvance watched.
"I..."
"Gather your men.
Anyone who can fight.
Help the guards.
They're overwhelmed."
"They're not even trained..."
"They were once the strongest in Silva," Kras whispered.
"Under King Caesar..."
"Caesar is gone.
The Mage Guild is shattered.
I need to see what's happening.
Maybe the child is there."
Jabir saw a faint glow behind the storm.
Sylvance gasped.
"The green comet...
It appeared after my village fell..."
Her tears mixed with the rain.
Jabir stepped forward.
"Sylvance...
I don't know your history.
But maybe this comet...
Is a sign.
From your grandmother.
From Silva itself.
There's still hope."
He wiped her tears.
"Fight.
Don't give up.
We're with you."
Fuad watched, silent.
He clenched his fists.
"This... isn't fair..."
---
Toward the Palace
Jabir led the way.
At every district, he shouted orders.
Assassins and mercenaries helped guards restore order.
The storm raged.
Then—an explosion at the palace gates.
Two figures emerged, stepping over fallen guards.
"It's them!" a guard screamed.
Korta's fighters rallied.
"Varon," one said.
"Prepare yourself."
"Don't tell me what to do, Batalos."
Jabir turned.
Sylvance's eyes glowed pink.
She fired a radiant arrow.
"It's them...
Two of them..."
At the Palace Gates - The Last Vow
Jabir stepped toward the gate, but two of his mercenaries blocked his path.
"Stop right there, Jabir," one said.
"You have a greater mission than this gate.
Go to the royal palace. Fix what these traitors have broken."
The other added:
"We'll handle those two ourselves.
Before we were mercenaries... we were King Caesar's personal guards.
We'll fulfill our duty again. No payment.
This is our kingdom."
Jabir looked at them, eyes steady.
"You two...
Now I understand why Caesar trusted you."
"Enough with the compliments," one said.
"Go."
Jabir nodded and continued forward.
---
Far Away — In the Kingdom of Leona
Prince Lucas stood beside his sister, his voice cold.
"Very well. You may try the medicine."
The sages began their preparations.
Lucas summoned his advisors.
He sat upon his crumbling throne.
"Bring them in.
We begin the trials."
One advisor's eyes gleamed.
"At once, Your Majesty."
An elder advisor stepped forward.
"Your Highness... this is madness."
The younger advisor glared at him, as if ready to strike.
Lucas spoke calmly:
"We'll begin with four volunteers.
If the treatment works—without side effects—we'll distribute it across the kingdom."
The elder bowed, reluctantly.
"As you command..."
Lucas left the throne room, donned his armor, and rode into the city as he always did—alone, silent, watching.
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In the Valley of Wonders — Jamih's Return
Jamih crossed the Valley of Wonders, heading toward the assassins' stronghold. The desert was no longer radiant. The stars had vanished. Only the green comet remained.
He approached the site where his men had fallen during the battle at the Luminous Tree.
Qaws and the others froze.
The bodies were gone.
In their place—an oasis.
Green trees. Clear water. Creatures of the valley drinking peacefully.
"Impossible," Qaws whispered.
"There were bodies here.
Is this some trick of the valley?"
Jamih stepped forward.
"Yes...
A trick, perhaps.
But a beautiful one."
He dismounted, knelt beside the water, and dipped his hands into it. The warmth spread through his skin.
He saw his reflection.
And he remembered.
His men bickering over hunting rights.
Fighting over bread.
Laughing.
"We'd die for you!" one had said.
"Are you proud of me?" asked another.
Jamih smiled.
He looked up at the comet.
Qaws and the others watched in stunned silence.
It was the first time they had ever seen their commander smile.
Jamih mounted his beast.
"No need to bury them.
Silva has taken care of them."
He turned.
"Let's return to the stronghold."
The Dimming Villages of the Luminous Tree
Across the scattered villages that once thrived beneath the glow of the Luminous Tree, despair had taken root. The sky above Silva was dark, starless, and heavy with silence. What had once been a realm of gentle magic and quiet abundance now stood on the edge of collapse.
Faces were pale. Children, elders, even the strongest youth moved slowly, drained of vitality. The rivers had thinned. The crops struggled to grow. The healers—once revered—could no longer cure the simplest ailments. The magic was fading. And with it, hope.
In the village of Lajira, now the largest surviving settlement after the fall of the main tree, Commander Lainas sat in silence. His face was drawn, his eyes hollow. He stared at the green comet burning faintly in Silva's black sky.
"What am I supposed to do now..." he whispered, hands pressed to his temples.
He remembered the war. The final moments of Grandmother Shandriz. The overwhelming force of the Black Order. And Azalor's vow: I will erase every village that dares remember the Tree.
Reports arrived.
A strange illness was spreading—swift, silent, and lethal. It struck the old, the young, and now even the strong. The healers were helpless. The magic was too weak.
"This disease... when did it begin?" Lainas asked.
"It didn't exist before," replied the chief healer.
"It appeared after the Tree was destroyed."
More reports followed.
"There was an attack on a northern village.
Heavy losses.
We spotted dark portals—Black Order members preparing another strike."
Lainas slammed his fist against the table.
"Azalor.
He told Shandriz he would burn us all.
And now he's doing it."
The council stirred. Some suggested seeking help from the assassins—those who had once fought beside them. But old grudges lingered. Even after Jamih's aid in the war, many still distrusted the shadows.
Lainas stood.
"Prepare the remaining guards.
We'll protect what's left."
He donned his armor, flanked by two loyal sentinels.
One is vanguard the other is an old mage
"We'll trace this disease to its source."
"We should start in the southern villages," one guard said.
"That's where the first cases were recorded."
They departed under Silva's black sky.
---
The Southern Edge of the Valley
The villagers were broken—hungry, sick, and silent. The trees were dying. The wells ran dry. Magic was a memory.
As Lainas reached the village gate, he turned back.
"This disease will not reach Lajira.
Not while I still breathe."
They marched into the night.
One guard spoke softly:
"Thirty days ago... we shared bread, laughter, light.
Shandriz guided us.
The Tree glowed like a beacon.
Now... there's only darkness."
"We've survived worse," Lainas replied.
"After the Third Sorcerer War... Shandriz rebuilt everything.
We won't surrender now."
They reached a well, where villagers were gathering water.
Lainas approached.
"Where are you headed?
What's in those baskets?"
The villagers didn't respond.
They didn't even look up.
Lainas gripped his sword.
"Are you alright?"
"Commander, be careful!" one guard shouted.
An old woman lunged—her eyes blank, her movements unnatural.
The guard blocked the strike.
"Something's wrong.
This isn't normal."
The villagers began to move toward them—slow, deliberate, heads bowed, eyes fixed on the ground.
"What is this..." Lainas muttered.
"Try a detection spell," he ordered.
The mage-guard nodded.
"It'll cost me a gem. I only have three left."
"Use it."
The spell revealed a faint violet glow around their necks—sigils, runes, written in a language no one recognized.
"They're marked," the mage whispered.
"Controlled."
Lainas's eyes widened.
"The Black Order... they've enslaved our people."
He drew his blade.
"Can we break the spell?"
"Not with what we have.
We'd need purification magic.
And we don't have the power."
Lainas trembled.
"Try to bind them."
They attempted to tie the villagers down—but they resisted. Fast. Precise. Dangerous.
"They move like they've been drugged," one guard said.
"But they're lethal."
Lainas hesitated.
He couldn't bring himself to strike.
"We've never harmed each other.
Not in all our history.
We were one family beneath one tree..."
He gritted his teeth.
"Now we're being forced to kill our own."
He raised his sword.
"Enough!"
And charged.
The Southern Collapse - Lainas and Suhail Respond
The clash was brutal. Lainas and his guards fought through a nightmare—forced to kill the very villagers they once protected, the same people who had once greeted them with warmth and shared their harvests. Now, under the Black Order's curse, they attacked with blank eyes and unnatural strength.
When the last body fell, Lainas stood motionless. His hands trembled. Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
"Commander... are you alright?" one guard asked.
Lainas didn't answer. He walked forward, cold and silent.
Then he saw the supplies.
"These crops... they're from the southern villages."
A mage stepped forward, his face pale.
"Yes, Commander. But... there's something wrong."
"What is it?"
"They're cursed. I can smell the stench of Black Order magic.
These crops are poisoned."
Lainas clenched his fists.
"Damn it... I should've seen this.
They've targeted our food.
They're infecting us from the inside."
He turned sharply.
"We need to move.
Contact Suhail—now."
The mage used his second gemstone without hesitation, closing his eyes to send the message.
"He's received it. He'll meet us near the southern border."
Lainas and his guards began their march.
"The southern villages are our main source of food.
If the Black Order corrupts them all..."
He slapped his cheeks, picked up his pace.
"It's not too late.
I won't let them win."
---
Elsewhere — Suhail's Stand
In a distant village, Suhail stood among his weary men. Once hailed as the master of purification magic, he had led the elite crisis unit against magical plagues. Now, he was all that remained.
His blade glowed with pale white light as he struck down a cursed enemy.
He paused, eyes closed, listening.
"Commander Lainas requests your aid.
Head to the southern villages.
Warn all settlements—destroy any crops from the south."
Suhail opened his eyes.
"So it's true...
I'm the only one left who can fix this."
He turned to his men.
"Two of you—take these messages to the northern and eastern villages.
No southern crops. Burn them all."
He looked around. The villagers barely moved. His soldiers were exhausted from endless attacks.
"Twenty men—stay and guard this village.
The rest—come with me.
We march south."
---
The Village of Shadows
Lainas arrived at a small southern village. Homes were empty. The fields had been harvested.
"They've already moved," a guard said.
Then—a sound. Soft crying. Shuffling footsteps.
"Commander! Look!"
Villagers emerged from the shadows. The old mayor among them.
Lainas drew his sword.
"Damn you..."
The villagers bore the same cursed sigils on their necks.
"We must hurry!
The disease is spreading.
This entire village is lost.
We head to Falia—the southern capital!"
---
Suhail's Advance
Suhail spotted villagers in the desert, heading toward the southern settlements.
He raised his sword.
"This is what Lainas warned us about.
Move!"
One of his mages hesitated.
"Commander... can't we purify them?
Maybe we can save them."
Suhail turned, eyes burning.
"Even if we restore their minds, the disease remains.
We'll be drained before we reach Lainas.
Purification takes time—and we don't have it."
A young soldier trembled.
"So we just... kill them?"
Suhail's voice was firm.
"We don't kill them.
We release them.
We free their souls from this curse."
His blade flared with white light.
"Cleanse them!"
He charged.
As he fought, he thought of his grandmother.
"She knew I was meant for more.
That's why she sent Mowj instead.
She didn't trust him.
She trusted me."
He cut through the cursed villagers with ruthless precision. His men followed, shaken and silent.
"That was my aunt..." one whispered.
"I wanted to marry her..." other whispered.
---
Elsewhere, Lainas had set a trap—locking cursed villagers inside a fortified gate. Their weak cries and slow pounding echoed through the stone.
He stood outside with his two elite guards: a seasoned warrior and a master mage.
He sighed.
"We need to move. But first..."
"Commander?"
Lainas knelt beneath Silva's dark sky.
"Please... Silva...
Protect them."
He opened his eyes.
The green comet blazed overhead, trailing stardust across the heavens.
---
Lainas reached another village.
Bodies everywhere.
"This is impossible..." the warrior whispered.
"They weren't cursed," the mage said.
"No sigils. No disease.
They refused the crops.
And were slaughtered."
He pointed to a burned guard's armor.
"Black Order magic.
Same as the Tree War."
"They sent the crops.
The villagers refused.
So they wiped them out."
The granaries were empty.
"They sent the food anyway..."
Lainas gripped his sword.
"I hope Suhail did what I asked.
He's our only chance."
"He's loyal," the warrior said.
"Even so," the mage added, "purification takes time.
He may have to choose...
Who to save.
Who to kill."
Lainas stepped out of the village.
"Better that... than slaughtering them all.
That's what Azalor wants.
For us to erase our own people."
---
"Shall I contact Mowj?" the mage asked.
"A bird could reach him in four days.
Or I could try telepathy..."
"No," Lainas said.
"That's our last resort.
He's on a mission.
If he learns what's happening, he'll come.
But for now—save your strength."
From atop a sand dune, Lainas spotted five cloaked figures heading toward Falia.
"They're carrying cursed crops..."
"Commander—look behind them!"
Nine villagers followed, blank-eyed, obedient.
"Orders?" the warrior asked.
Lainas narrowed his eyes.
"We wait.
When they reach the canyon—we strike."
He turned to the mage.
"Cast a spell on the villagers.
If it fails—use the sleep powder."
The mage nodded.
Lainas crouched low.
The trap was set.
The Southern Village - Suhail's Judgment
Suhail arrived at the southern village. The people were harvesting crops as if nothing had changed. No signs of disease. No cursed sigils. Just quiet routine beneath Silva's dark sky.
He raised his voice:
"Men! Stay alert!
They may be controlled without knowing it."
One soldier hesitated.
"Commander... I see no signs."
Suhail snapped:
"Signs?
Look at the crops!
I can smell the rot from here."
Another whispered:
"They seem unaware...
Perhaps Lainas hasn't reached them yet."
Suhail cut him off.
"Advance in full formation."
They entered the village, weapons drawn.
An old man rushed forward, eyes bright with hope.
"Finally!
Reinforcements!
I knew you wouldn't abandon us!"
Suhail narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"We've been under attack.
The Black Order wounded our fighters and mages.
We've barely held on..."
The man coughed—blood splattered across Suhail's cheek.
Without hesitation, Suhail's blade ignited with pale white light.
He cut the man in half.
Women screamed. Children fled.
One soldier shouted:
"Commander?! What have you done?!"
Suhail, his blade dripping:
"He was infected.
He tried to lure me in.
The Black Order targets the strong.
I purified him."
His elite unit—mages, healers, warriors—stood frozen, shaken.
Suhail turned to them, voice cold:
"Grandmother Shandriz entrusted us with this mission.
If you hesitate, you don't deserve to wear this crest."
Wounded villagers stirred, dragging themselves from their beds, clutching weapons. The elderly, the young, the broken—all took shelter in their homes.
Suhail roared:
"Cleanse them!"
A brutal clash erupted. The people of the Luminous Tree fought back, confused, desperate, unsure what they were defending.
Once, Suhail's battalion had been the finest in Silva—masters of purification and magical healing. Now, they were executioners.
One wounded villager stood before a hut filled with children.
"Have you lost your mind, Suhail?!
We're your people!"
Suhail drove his blade into the man's chest.
"Forgive me.
But this is for the greater good.
You must be purified...
Before you infect the rest."
His soldiers followed, some whispering to themselves:
"We're not killing...
We're cleansing...
We're saving them..."
Suhail turned to his men.
"Burn the village.
Burn the granaries.
We will contain this plague."
Flames engulfed the homes. Screams echoed. The elderly, the children, the wounded—all perished in fire.
Suhail walked away, eyes fixed on the horizon.
He looked up at Silva's dim sky, the green comet blazing overhead.
"Look what you've done, Mowj.
You're just a child.
Unfit to lead.
Unfit to choose the fate of our people."
---
Elsewhere — Lainas Watches the Smoke
Lainas, bloodied from battle, struck down the last of the Black Order scouts.
He turned, eyes narrowing.
"Smoke...
A fire?
Could the Black Order be initiating a purge?"
The warrior beside him frowned.
"That direction...
It's Suhail's route.
He may be clashing with whoever burned that village."
The mage, still carrying sleeping villagers, sealed the gates behind them.
"Commander... we're done here."
Lainas pointed toward the rising smoke.
"We need to reach Suhail.
If he's under attack, we must intervene."
He broke into a run, his guards close behind.
___________________
Ashes of Valia - The Fall of Suhail
Lainas arrived at the edge of the burning village. Smoke curled into the sky, thick and bitter. The flames devoured homes, granaries, and fields—both harvested and untouched.
The mage-guard raised his brow.
"Strange... I sense no threat.
These villagers... they weren't infected."
The warrior-guard held up a broken arrow, marked with the crest of Suhail's purification battalion.
"Commander... you need to see this."
Lainas took the arrow, eyes narrowing.
"I don't understand.
There's no sign of the Black Order..."
The mage scanned the scorched surroundings.
"All the crops—burned.
Every last stalk.
That means..."
A faint voice interrupted.
"Lainas... Lainas..."
He turned and found a woman collapsed in the ash, clutching a lifeless child.
He knelt beside her, tears welling.
"What happened?
Did they come here?
Did Suhail fall?"
The woman sobbed, her voice fading.
"It was... Suhail.
He came... and killed my family... one by one.
Said it was for our own good.
But we weren't sick...
I wasn't infected..."
She died in his arms.
Lainas froze.
"Suhail?
He did this?
Burned the village?
I told him to destroy the crops...
Not the people..."
The mage-guard whispered:
"I can't believe it.
He's slaughtering villagers without mercy.
We must stop him before he reaches Falia."
The warrior's voice was cold.
"He's lost his mind."
---
At the Gates of Falia
Suhail approached the fortified village, his sword drawn. The once-white glow of purification had turned violet—tainted, furious.
A frail old man stood in his path.
Suhail struck without hesitation.
The man caught the blade with his bare hand, blood dripping.
"You've come...
To save us.
To cleanse us.
I'm not infected, Commander.
I'm just an old man... fleeing the village."
Suhail's mages confirmed: no signs of disease.
"What do you mean, fleeing?
What happened?"
"They took the village.
Crops are poisoned.
People move like drunkards.
I saw men in black cloaks..."
Suhail turned to his men.
"This is the source.
We'll purge it.
Burn it all."
The old man walked away slowly.
"They say the northern and eastern villages have fallen too.
I'm heading to Lajira.
It's the only safe place left."
Suhail watched him go, then turned toward Falia.
---
Valia's guards stood at the gate, weapons raised.
"We've heard the reports.
You burned a village.
You killed innocents.
You're a traitor!"
Suhail stepped forward, his blade stained with blood.
"Traitor?
I came to protect you.
You spread this plague and call me a criminal?"
He laughed softly.
"Let me teach you what purification truly means."
He charged.
His men followed.
The bells of Falia rang out in terror.
Villagers fled. Some hid. Others begged for mercy—and were cut down.
Suhail's battalion ignited the granaries and fields.
Then—a figure in a black cloak appeared, sword in hand.
"I didn't expect such a spectacle.
You're easier than I thought."
Half of Suhail's men collapsed, trembling.
They had been deceived.
Suhail snarled.
"Easier?
You think this is victory?
I came to cleanse what you corrupted!"
They clashed.
Purification magic met shadow steel.
Their strikes blurred—fast, brutal, relentless.
Five of Suhail's soldiers fell, stunned.
Five others continued the purge.
Suhail landed a crushing blow, driving the cloaked man to the ground.
He struck again—straight to the chest.
The man laughed as he faded.
"It's too late.
All the villages...
They belong to the Black Order now.
You fight the impossible.
The people are ours."
Suhail's blade pulsed, releasing a violet wave.
The man vanished.
Suhail turned to his stunned soldiers.
"You're not worthy of this battalion."
He pointed to the five who remained.
"Well done.
We fight for the weak.
For the fools who can't save themselves."
He marched toward the northern village.
Behind him, Falia burned.
---
Lainas Arrives
Smoke choked the air.
Lainas reached the ruins of Falia.
Suhail's men lay scattered.
The mage-guard gasped.
"This is impossible...
It's Suhail.
These are his men."
Lainas knelt beside a trembling soldier.
"What happened?
Did the Black Order defeat you?
Was Suhail captured?"
"No...
It was him.
He did this.
He said it was the only way..."
Lainas stood, voice rising.
"People of Falia!
I am Commander Lainas.
I've come to help!"
Wounded villagers emerged, terrified.
"Suhail came...
He killed us.
One by one.
He's heading north now...
Said he must stop the spread."
Lainas clenched his fists.
"What happened to you, Suhail..."
The mage-guard stepped forward.
"Shall I contact him?
It's our last gem."
Lainas looked at the villagers—broken, bleeding, afraid.
"No.
Contact Mowj.
We need help.
We need someone who still remembers mercy."
The mage released a magical dove toward the assassins' stronghold.
"It'll take five days.
But it will reach him."
The warrior-guard doused the flames.
"We must move quickly, Commander."
Lainas nodded, pouring water over the last embers.
"Let's go."
He turned to the villagers.
"This village is yours now.
Defend it.
You are warriors—some of you fought beside Shandriz.
Silva is with you.
I will fix what Suhail has broken.
I promise."
He looked at the scorched earth.
The mage spoke:
"For now, rely on the valley's beasts.
Until we find a cure."
The villagers bowed.
A child ran to Lainas, sobbing.
"That man...
He killed my father..."
Lainas trembled, placing a hand on the boy's head.
"I'm sorry.
This is my fault.
But I swear...
He will answer for what he's done."
---
Suhail marched toward the northern village, his sword glowing with a strange violet hue. The light of purification had faded. What remained was something else—something darker.
Lainas followed, his guards at his side.
"What was he thinking?
I told him to heal...
Not to burn."
The warrior-guard whispered:
"We must prepare ourselves.
I have a bad feeling about what's coming..."
;)
interrogates. A pressure has descended upon the villages, invisible and silent, yet felt in every strained conversation and fearful glance. Our journey continues into this new, suffocating atmosphere, where we will see that even the kindest heart can be warped by fear. We are here to see how a good person, faced with the loss of everything they hold dear, might be lured into becoming the very thing they despise
Ross, out!!
