Footsteps echoed across the earth as hundreds of soldiers, perfectly synchronized, marched in complete silence across the barren wastend.

  The air was heavy, with strong winds stirring the crimson dust of what had once been blood. The pce was silent, but only until fear ceased to paralyze its observers.

  Saint observed everything coldly, without a trace of emotion in her gestures even as the sun itself, now burning corruptly, prepared to consume the souls of all that remained. Only her crimson eyes, so vivid beneath the shadows of her helmet, betrayed a hint of anticipation for what was to come.

  Her battalion halted in unison, guided by a harmony that only those of her kind understood. At their head, a dozen ascended beings rode stone horses, all proudly protected by the armor of the underworld, their father's gift and proof.

  Their leader, the one who had guided them to this point, raised the tip of her sword, a more symbolic than necessary act, before giving the order to disperse.

  Instantly, the group moved, beginning a race toward the great walls of the crimson city. It was then that the city finally broke its silence.

  A cry, no, a shriek of pure rage, pierced the streets of the forgotten city, then two, three; their number multiplied like a pain spreading at great speed.

  She did not stop, and neither did any of her brothers.

  From atop the walls, figures emerged, human or what they once were. They plummeted dozens of meters, crashing to the ground with a terrifying crunch, only to reassemble themselves moments ter. Arrows rained down from the rear, impacting with the force of a truck into their bodies infected with crimson veins. Instantly, the corrupted erupted in a shower of blood. Even so, it wasn't enough, because hundreds, no, thousands, more of them appeared one after another.

  For every one that fell, ten more appeared, vastly outnumbering them. But that didn't matter, not when they were so weak.

  The front line prepared, taller, stronger, and more resilient. The stone warriors, wielding spears and towering tower shields, charged headlong into the enemy.

  The result was like a mountain crashing down upon them. Bodies were hurled back into the horde, impaled and crushed without mercy. Although their numbers were great, their ck of intelligence and power opened a significant gap for her and the rest of the force.

  Bending down just slightly, she picked up a simple stone and threw it. Her enemy, the one who had managed to evade the advance guard, was not like the others. He had once been an awakened one, a warrior in full armor ready to defend his city, but now he simply moved like a puppet.

  She was strong among her own kind, yes, but against the children of Nether, they were nothing.

  The stone smmed into her head, tearing away half her skull, then continued its trajectory, striking a second enemy in the leg.

  It was a tough stone indeed… No other thought crossed her mind. Her shield moved like a sledgehammer, pushing the body aside even as it began to colpse, so she could continue her charge. A second enemy challenged her, only to be cut in two by her sword.

  Another tried to surprise her by grabbing her ankles. She crushed his head without looking back. The color of fresh blood stained her armor completely. The battle had barely begun, and the carnage only seemed to increase with each passing second.

  Beside her, she watched as her sisters, exact copies of herself, dispatched dozens of enemies with the same efficiency. At the front, their leaders had already crossed the walls by another route, ready to confront the heart of the enemy in the castle.

  She and eleven other stone warriors separated, entering the city where its inhabitants had died days before.

  Their mission wasn't to cleanse those lifeless streets, nor even to recim the city. After all, that battle had been lost generations ago, when the first seven chose peace through submission.

  Her eyes watched for only an instant as the broken bodies slowly moved, rebuilding themselves like mere puppets. They weren't whole beings; instead, they were offspring of a crimson terror. The battle was futile until they reached the head, but that wasn't their task. At least, not yet.

  Passing through the eerily silent streets, she and her group reached the city center, where a grand church with marble walls and tall columns stood, still intact.

  Instantly, her instincts kicked in. There was a reason why none of the corrupted creatures approached that structure, and she understood. The presence lurking within its walls was not to be provoked under any circumstances.

  One of the stone warriors drew the group's attention, gently tapping his shield against the church's facade. Instantly, footsteps arrived; heavy, deliberate, with a weight greater than physical weight.

  From the cracks of the colpsed entrance, a dark miasma seeped in, swirling to form the figure of a tall knight in dark armor. A creature of darkness… and a crude copy.

  Although none of them reacted, the air seemed thick with a sense of mockery and discontent.

  The bck knight seemed to radiate some kind of anger, but it was quickly extinguished by her mission. Walking like a statue, he moved away from the group without checking if they were following. The group did.

  Soon, they entered an adjacent building, where rge murals made of tiles on the floor depicted images of the past. But the group members didn't even gnce at them; instead, they focused on the actions of the dark guardian.

  The knight bowed in a specific formation, allowing his soul essence to touch the runes hidden among the images. Instantly, a staircase was revealed inside, allowing the group to descend.

  As the group descended, the air grew more humid, and shadows filled the room. The walls around them vibrated occasionally with the csh of battle in the distance, but their attention was completely focused on the single source of light in the distance.

  A door, made entirely of magical steel, stood before them. It was resistant, so much so that probably none of them could pass through it, but that wasn't the surprising thing; rather, it was the fact that they couldn't feel it. Although it contained multiple protective enchantments, it was as if they were looking at a simple stone wall.

  She stepped forward, calmly knocking on the door. A completely banal gesture, but den with meaning for someone free from corruption.

  The door opened after several seconds, without a sound to betray it. From its doors, the face of a human finally appeared through the opening. It was a young man with tanned skin and her hair tied back, wearing crimson ceremonial robes; he was a monk.

  The man's eyes widened before he let out a sigh of relief.

  "Thanks to her grace..." The priest opened the entrance completely, where a group of three more priests were pointing their drawn swords at them.

  When their eyes recognized the group, each one seemed to rex instantly. Only one person remained serene, with her eyes closed in the center of the room.

  A woman with honey-colored hair, wearing an eborately crafted white dress. She was neither a warrior nor a mere believer. She was the equivalent of a priestess in that ravaged city. But not for wisdom, nor for power, but for the burden she carried.

  Saint's eyes immediately went to the metal key that hung harmlessly around her neck. So simple, so mundane, yet somehow it cshed completely with the image of the maiden.

  The woman, as if guided by intuition, tucked the key into her chest before rising and addressing the group.

  "You will take me and my group outside these walls, escorting me to one of the Huntress goddess's encves. Once that is done, our partnership will end."

  Her words weren't like a negotiation, nor a plea, but a statement. Any deal had already been agreed upon by her father and the goddess long ago.

  She couldn't understand how they had managed to reach an agreement when the end of this war was so close to their mutual destruction, but she didn't question it, as that wasn't her role.

  With a slight nod, the group advanced, keeping the humans at the center of their formation for their protection. The vibrations of battle grew stronger, and a feeling of foreboding began to settle in the minds of her and her siblings.

  Something else was happening. By this point, while the battle should have escated, it shouldn't feel so close.

  Her eyes scanned the walls, as if a clue could be found among the murals. But finally, she found herself watching the priestess's back as they advanced.

  'Recim…'

  The image of the priestess flickered.

  'It arises'

  The tunnel walls transformed into dark skies.

  'It is desire'

  The figures of her companions were repced by shadows, hundreds of shadows, all walking in the same direction.

  The sky was dark, but currents of soul essence flowed through it, illuminating dark figures as if a river of souls were slowly moving toward a single point.

  She didn't understand what was happening, and worse, her mind felt heavy, dizzy. It took her too long to realize the simple fact that she herself was walking in the same direction. Not in her body, but in that imperfect vessel.

  Her original body was already beginning to repce the world stone, but the process was terribly slow…

  Where was she? Why was she there? What had happened to the war?

  Her vision was fading, as sleep tried to cim her once more. But before she could dream, she felt the shadows embrace her, calming her heart.

  The st thing he saw before drifting off to sleep was a temple in the distance… and the fpping of a parakeet flying away.