Deep within a vast, crowded city, chaos was born.

  The sky tore open.

  A massive rift split the heavens apart, bleeding the same eerie crimson light that heralded extinction. It was far larger than the one Yuki had faced, vast, pulsating, alive. The air around it warped violently as unseen atum spiraled outward, repelling matter with irresistible force.

  Buildings buckled.

  Cars were torn from the streets and hurled aside like toys.

  Glass shattered by the thousands.

  Panic erupted below as it raged.

  People fled in every direction, abandoning all order. Some ran on foot, faces twisted with terror. Others jammed themselves into cars or onto motorcycles, engines screaming as they tried desperately to outrun the impossible.

  But deep down, they all knew the truth.

  Speed would not save them.

  Only a Guardian could.

  A young mother ran through the collapsing streets, clutching her daughter tightly to her chest.

  The child couldn’t have been more than three years old.

  Her small hands clung to her mother’s clothing as confusion and fear filled her wide eyes. She didn’t understand what was happening, only that the world was screaming and her mother’s heart was racing.

  The mother ran until her lungs burned.

  Then the rift finally showed its horror.

  Something inside it moved.

  A massive claw emerged from the bleeding sky.

  With a single, casual motion, it struck a nearby vehicle, sending it flying.

  The car hurtled toward the fleeing pair, spinning violently, crossing hundreds of meters in seconds.

  There was no escape.

  Even if there was the mother stumbled.

  She fell down panic surging in.

  Instinctively, she curled around her daughter, closing her eyes, waiting for the impact that would end everything.

  It never came however.

  A thunderous boom erupted behind them.

  Metal screamed as glass exploded outward in a storm of deadly shards.

  The mother opened her eyes after some seconds of silence.

  Standing in the path of the flying wreckage was a tall woman with ashen-gray skin and long black hair that whipped violently in the wind. The car lay obliterated behind her, crushed and torn apart as if it had struck an immovable wall.

  The woman turned.

  In her arms lay an infant, swaddled carefully, untouched by the destruction around them.

  She met the mother’s gaze and smiled, gentle, reassuring.

  Then she looked down at the infant.

  Slowly, carefully, she approached.

  The mother stared in confusion as the gray-skinned woman lifted the child and held it out toward her. For a moment, the mother didn’t understand.

  Then realization struck.

  “…You want me to take care of it?” she asked softly, disbelief trembling in her voice.

  The woman nodded.

  She didn’t speak.

  After a heartbeat’s hesitation, the mother accepted the infant, now holding two fragile lives in her arms. She rose shakily to her feet and ran, tears streaming down her face as she vanished into the crowd.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Behind her, the woman’s smile faded.

  Her expression hardened.

  Artoria turned back toward the rift.

  She was not wearing armor.

  That armor had been left behind with her fallen dynasty, buried beneath ruin and history. Now she wore only simple civilian clothing, fragile and unprotected.

  It did not matter.

  From the rift emerged the first true shape of the Blight.

  A massive wing tore free, shredded and punctured, bearing jagged talons that scraped against the edges of reality. Then its head emerged, a skull resembling that of a wyvern, empty eye sockets glaring as it released a growl so deep and wrong it made the dead seem restless.

  The creature was enormous, at least ten meters tall, its length impossible to judge.

  And worse,

  It was undead.

  Its skin was flayed away in places, revealing bone and rot beneath. No organs remained. Not even it's eyes. Its wings were little more than skeletal frames draped in torn membrane. Jagged horn-like spikes jutted from its skull and spine.

  It radiated corruption and death.

  The wyvern fully exited the rift, its tail swinging wide and slamming into a nearby building, reducing it to rubble in an instant.

  Then it noticed her.

  Artoria stood hundreds of meters away, a lone figure against something that dwarfed small armies.

  She felt fear coil in her chest.

  She knew this battle was unwinnable.

  She had lost her abilities, her bond to Chronith and Spatium severed. The power that once defined her was gone, stripped away by the corruption she had once carried.

  That corruption was gone now.

  But the damage remained.

  She thought back to the boy.

  Onyx-black hair. Pale eyes.

  The mysterious child who had healed her, saved her. Her corruption had seized, frozen, neutralized by something she still did not understand.

  She had wanted to thank him.

  She had tried.

  But her voice was gone.

  Still, she smiled.

  Because he had given her a chance.

  And she would not waste it.

  The wyvern roared again, stepping forward, the ground trembling beneath its weight.

  Artoria narrowed her eyes.

  This was a monsterous blight.

  A monster of such magnitude that even seasoned Paragons would struggle to bring it down.

  And she?

  She was a shadow of what she once was.

  A hollow knight.

  Yet she stepped forward.

  She clenched her fists.

  Because even without power,

  Even without armor,

  Even without any hope to win,

  She would protect her people.

  That was what a true knight did.

  And if this battle cost her life…

  Then so be it.

  The wyvern roared.

  It was not merely a sound, it was an act of violence. The cry tore through the city, shattering windows in every nearby building in an instant. Glass rained down like hail as the creature reared back, then leapt skyward.

  Its ruined wings snapped open.

  They should not have worked.

  But they did.

  With a thunderous impact, the wyvern slammed back down, using what remained of its wings to hurl itself forward at terrifying speed.

  Artoria gritted her teeth and sprang backward.

  The beast struck the road where she had stood only moments before. Concrete collapsed inward, asphalt splitting as if struck by a meteor. The street caved, sending debris flying in all directions.

  She hissed as she narrowly escaped the impact.

  Then she lunged forward.

  Closing the distance in a blink, Artoria leapt toward the wyvern’s skull. She straightened her posture midair, drew in a sharp breath, and drove her fist forward with everything she had.

  The punch connected.

  The wyvern’s massive head snapped downward, its body staggering for a fraction of a second.

  It was enough.

  But not nearly enough.

  Artoria was still falling when the creature twisted. Its long, skeletal tail whipped around with horrifying speed and struck her squarely.

  She was hurled through the city like a cannonball, slamming through walls, tearing through floors, pulverizing steel and concrete, before finally crashing to a halt more than a thousand meters away.

  Artoria coughed violently as she forced herself upright.

  Black blood spilled from her lips and splattered onto the broken street. Her legs shook beneath her, barely holding her weight.

  Then she heard it.

  Not one scream.

  Hundreds.

  No, thousands.

  She turned her head.

  Her eyes widened in horror as she saw waves of civilians fleeing through the streets, panic tearing them apart. They were running with everything they had.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Not even close.

  Artoria clenched her fists.

  The only way to save them…

  …was to take the monster away.

  She hesitated for just a heartbeat.

  Then she threw her head back and released a feral roar, raw and defiant, echoing across the ruined city.

  She sprinted forward.

  Her speed was no longer human, she crossed the distance to the wyvern in an instant, deliberately drawing its attention. She passed it deliberately, making sure it saw her.

  Challenging it.

  The wyvern’s empty eye sockets tracked her movement.

  It paused.

  Then it roared in fury and gave chase.

  Its broken wings spread wide, and impossibly, it lifted itself into the air, soaring after her through the city’s skyline. Buildings were clipped and shattered in its wake as it pursued her relentlessly.

  Artoria allowed herself a faint grin.

  'Good. You took the bait.'

  She ran with everything she had, covering kilometers in mere seconds, but the wyvern kept pace. Its presence loomed closer and closer, its rage palpable.

  Then, just as they reached the outskirts of the city, the wyvern lunged.

  Artoria sidestepped at the last moment.

  The creature crashed into the earth behind her, embedding itself deep into the ground. It roared in pure rage, tearing itself free and rising once more, its fury burning brighter than before.

  Artoria didn’t stop.

  Not yet.

  She hadn’t reached it.

  All she needed was a few more seconds.

  The wyvern struck again from above.

  She dodged, but the impact shattered the ground beneath her. The earth collapsed, her footing vanished, and she was sent flying violently across the landscape.

  She tumbled end over end for kilometers, skidding and rolling across sand and broken stone before finally managing to stop herself.

  Artoria pushed herself upright.

  Her boots sank into loose sand.

  She looked down.

  Then she smiled.

  She had made it.

  Before her stretched a vast, empty shoreline, the endless sea rolling quietly beneath a pale sky. No buildings. No civilians.

  An empty battleground.

  She turned slowly to face the approaching wyvern.

  The creature clicked its decaying tongue inside its skull, then roared again, charging toward her with unrestrained fury.

  Artoria narrowed her eyes.

  Now,

  Now she could fight.

  Alone.