The battlefield was a maelstrom of fire, steel, and roaring fury. The air trembled with every clash, every spell unleashed. Allan could barely remain standing; his breathing was ragged, and the mana within his body burned away like a candle struggling against the dawn.

  Before him, the leader of the demonic cult laughed with a hoarse voice, raising his sword shrouded in dark energy.

  Allan understood, with the clarity that only death can grant, that if he fell… the princes would be next.

  "I… can't… fail…" he muttered, gritting his teeth as he blocked another strike.

  The enemy prepared to deliver the final blow.

  Then, a whistle sliced through the air.

  A spear, wrapped in golden radiance, pierced cleanly through the cult leader's head. The body collapsed lifelessly, almost with ritualistic solemnity.

  A horse thundered past Allan like lightning, kicking up a storm of mud, dust, and blood. The figure atop it turned with lethal precision, cutting down another enemy in a single stroke. Behind them, a golden lion emerged from the smoke and pounced upon a sorcerer, tearing off his head with the force of a contained tempest.

  Allan lifted his gaze.

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  Grand Duchess Sofia Douglas had arrived.

  She advanced like a force of nature. Her armor gleamed even beneath the rain. Her gaze was steady, and her presence—majestic and relentless—carved a profound silence through the chaos.

  She halted before him.

  "What happened? Why are they here?"

  Allan struggled to breathe, gasping.

  "Grand Duchess… it's an honor. The academy was attacked by a surge of monsters. We tried to evacuate the students, but we were ambushed by members of the demonic cult. We don't know… what is happening, but the situation is critical."

  Sofia frowned and stared toward the crimson-stained horizon. Her instincts screamed that this was only the prelude to something far worse. Then she felt it—a vibration deep within her soul; her bond with Umber, violently strained. And through it…

  Lusian.

  Wounded. In danger.

  She did not hesitate.

  In the distance, a group of riders burst through the mist: twenty warriors mounted on magical beasts, bearing the silver banner of the House of Douglas. They had tried to catch up to her, but her mount was swifter than reason itself. Sofia had left them behind, driven by something no general can ignore:

  The visceral terror of losing the one she had sworn to protect.

  The riders reined in before her, breathless.

  Sofia raised her hand, pointing toward the forest flanks where demonic mana pulsed like a corrupted heart.

  "Split into two groups. Eliminate every cult member you encounter."

  The riders nodded and vanished into the trees. The beasts roared, and the darkness swallowed them without hesitation.

  Sofia spurred her mount and charged alone between the trunks. The wind lashed her face, and the scent of blood saturated the air.

  Each heartbeat carried her closer to the place where her heart screamed Lusian was waiting.

  From afar, Cassandra saw her tear through the forest like a bolt of golden lightning. She wanted to call out… but no voice came. There were no words capable of stopping that force.

  Sofia was light and storm.

  Nothing could stop her.