The next morning, after a well-earned night of rest, the trio prepared to hit the road again toward the capital.

  The sun barely filtered through the clouds, painting the horizon in shades of grey and steel.

  The landscape had changed.

  The lush meadows of the Patus region had given way to a harsher terrain. The ground was dry, jagged, littered with dark stones and cliffs scarred by the wind.

  A few scraggly trees clung to the rocks, twisted by the violent currents.

  Even the animals had changed.

  Massive black goats with spiraled horns watched them from the ridges.

  Short-snouted foxes with silver fur weaved between boulders like liquid shadows.

  Sometimes, a piercing shriek, like that of a hawk, sliced through the dry air.

  The silence was deeper here.

  The kind that smothers laughter.

  And thoughts.

  They had been walking for nearly two hours when Tharion stopped abruptly.

  His gaze had caught something—

  Something up on the plateau.

  Something that shouldn’t be moving.

  Three figures stood there, still as statues, overlooking the narrow path.

  One was stocky, pounding the ground with a bone mace.

  Another stood tall and lean, twin blades crossed behind their back.

  The last lingered in the rear, unarmed but radiating a cold, precise aura—one that betrayed deadly mastery.

  Tharion froze, breath caught in his throat.

  — “No…”

  The tallest figure took a step forward.

  Their voice was deep, distorted… but still recognizable.

  — “Tharion. At last. You don’t seem surprised to see us.”

  — “Not really. Just… didn’t expect it this soon.”

  — “You knew we’d come. You knew we’d find you. And you know we’re not on the wrong side.”

  Silence fell again. Heavy.

  Garlan and Marenna watched, confused.

  — “Come with us, Tharion. This world won’t be saved by ideals. You know it. Come. And it’ll be like before.”

  Garlan squinted, eyes narrowing.

  — “Carea?”

  The lean figure stepped forward, revealing a face partially veined with dark magic.

  — “Well, well… still breathing, are we?”

  — “Barely,” Carea replied with a tired smile. “You hurt me pretty bad, kid. But I’m still standing. And I hold no grudge.”

  He glanced at Marenna.

  — “Come with us. You and the girl. We don’t want to hurt you. Quite the opposite.”

  Tharion leaned toward them, voice tense.

  — “Alright… this fight’s unavoidable. And odds are, we won’t survive it.

  They’re my former comrades. As strong as me—maybe stronger.”

  Garlan and Marenna swallowed hard.

  Then moved instinctively into fighting stance.

  Marenna struck first, sending out a surge of vines to trap Danbur.

  It worked—briefly.

  Danbur snapped them with a flick of her wrist. She didn’t retaliate. She simply watched.

  So Marenna mirrored her—uncertain.

  Garlan vanished—then reappeared inches from Carea.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  — “Trying the same trick again?” Carea arched an eyebrow.

  — “Oh no,” Garlan replied. “You don’t seem dumb enough to fall for it twice.”

  He summoned eight orbs of fire—

  Circling Carea like a deadly halo.

  — “Move, and you burn.”

  Carea chuckled, then punched one of the orbs.

  A chain of explosions lit up the air.

  Using the smoke as cover, Garlan focused his mana, channeled a surge of wind—

  And unleashed a strike so violent it hurled Carea across the landscape like a missile.

  He slammed into a distant cliffside, coughing blood, an arm and part of his torso torn away.

  — “Where the hell did he send me this time…? How long’s it gonna take me to crawl back?!”

  Meanwhile, Tharion was clashing blades with Kraes.

  A duel of fury.

  But the old centaur was losing ground—cut in several places already.

  Kraes’s blows fell like warhammers. Precise. Constant. Unrelenting.

  Garlan moved to intervene—

  But Tharion barked an order:

  — “Don’t. This is my fight. A warrior’s honor.”

  At the same time, Danbur was chanting in a low, eerie voice.

  Ancient, dark syllables filled the air—

  And a blood-red aura surrounded Kraes.

  His strikes became heavier. Faster. Sharper.

  Marenna saw it.

  She clenched her teeth and placed her hands to the ground, sending a surge of healing magic toward Tharion.

  A green glow wrapped around his wounds, trying to balance the rising pressure.

  The battle intensified.

  Sharper. Louder.

  Each clash rang like thunder on steel.

  Each block was its own war.

  Kraes feinted left—

  Tharion countered—

  Too late.

  The first blade pierced his chest.

  The second followed instantly—cleanly beheading the centaur.

  A deafening silence fell.

  Garlan screamed.

  A raw, primal scream.

  His right arm twisted—morphing into a dragon’s limb.

  A scaled tail burst from his back, sharp as a spear.

  Half his face turned to black scale.

  And his right eye—

  Glowed golden, slit like a wyvern’s.

  A shockwave burst outward from him, kicking up rocks and dust.

  Kraes didn’t stand a chance.

  Garlan grabbed both swords in his draconic hand—

  And snapped them like twigs.

  With his other hand, he caught Kraes by the throat, lifted him—

  And breathed a pillar of searing fire into his face.

  The elf’s head vanished in flames.

  Danbur didn’t blink.

  She cast another incantation.

  A crimson light flashed through Kraes’s charred corpse—

  He stood again.

  Reanimated.

  Danbur’s bone mace deflected a furious strike from Garlan, just in time.

  Marenna watched, trying to make sense of it all.

  She remembered what she once felt inside Garlan’s mind.

  Pieces were fitting together—

  A hidden beast. A fire within. A second self.

  She was beginning to understand.

  But in battle, there’s no time for daydreams.

  Kraes—undead again—was already lunging at her.

  Too fast.

  He pinned her to the ground, arms locked, eyes cold and empty.

  Garlan saw it.

  He made a move to charge Kraes—

  Then vanished—

  And reappeared behind Danbur.

  He slammed a ball of fire and a wind burst together in a devastating combo.

  Danbur flew like a comet—

  Exploding in cinders far, far away.

  Garlan landed next to Kraes, who hadn’t moved.

  — “You’ve got two seconds to let go of her.

  Or you’re going on a flight.

  No landing.

  And no resurrection this time.”

  — “One.”

  Kraes didn’t move fast enough.

  Garlan’s scaled foot came crashing down—crushing his arms like twigs.

  With a backhand, he sent him flying.

  The arms stayed behind. Severed clean.

  Kraes spiraled through the air—his mangled body vanishing over a distant ridge.

  Garlan rushed to Marenna, helped her up, and placed a hand gently on her.

  A healing pulse flowed through.

  She blinked in shock.

  — “You… you can heal?”

  He looked down at her.

  — “I’m not Garlan.

  At least, not the one you know.

  I’m his rage.

  The part he hides. The part you woke up.

  I’m stronger. Smarter. More capable.”

  He paused.

  His glowing gaze softened.

  — “But don’t worry.

  His love for you… is so strong, I could never hurt you.”

  Marenna turned crimson.

  So red she could’ve burst a blood vessel.

  And Garlan collapsed.

  Unconscious. Drained.

  She caught him just in time.

  Held him close.

  And pressed her forehead to his chest.

  Then kissed him gently on the brow.

  — “I love you too…” she whispered.

  Not far away, a group of mages from the capital had just arrived at the battlefield.

  One of them went pale at the sight of the centaur’s headless body.

  Another froze, staring at the scorched remains.

  The silence was too deep to be recent.

  — “What the hell happened here?” one of the mages asked, hurrying forward.

  Still stunned, Marenna raised her eyes.

  — “We were attacked… and our friend, Tharion… he’s gone.”

  A wave of disbelief passed through the group.

  — “What? Tharion is dead?!”

  The group leader reacted instantly.

  — “Quickly! We’ll teleport you and his body back to the capital.”

  The mages formed a circle, chanting in unison.

  A glowing sigil traced itself into the warm dust.

  Moments later, they all vanished in a flash of white light.

  They reappeared inside a vast hall of pale stone.

  Glowing runes pulsed softly across the walls.

  — “Rest now. You’re safe here.”

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