My focus honed in on a familiar, hunched figure standing just beyond the chaos.
Beside her stood a hooded lycan, his broad shoulders tense as his amber eyes scanned the battlefield.
"Edee," I breathed, relief and worry intertwining in my chest like tightening vines.
Without hesitation, I ran to her, my boots kicking up dirt and ash as I moved.
My heart pounded—not just from exertion but from the sheer disbelief of seeing her here, in the middle of a war zone.
"This is unexpected! Why are you here? It's not safe!"
My concern was immediate, my words a hurried warning.
"He—the clairvoyant—and I both had the same vision," she explained, gesturing to the lycan beside her.
"It showed darkness near you and Dylan. We couldn't ignore it."
At the sound of her voice, the old werewolf removed his hood. His face was lined with age and wisdom, his yellow eyes gleaming with an otherworldly glow.
"It's an honor to meet you, Prime Apex," he said.
I nodded.
"This place was difficult to locate," he continued, his voice rough but confident. "But we're here. The darkness within Erevan is an ancient curse—one that should never have awakened."
He hesitated, then added, "I wonder if the Prime Apex has piqued their interest."
I swallowed hard.
I had known Erevan had fallen to something beyond mortal comprehension, but hearing it spoken aloud—having it confirmed that his corruption was something ancient, something forbidden, and somehow connected to me—sent a cold shiver down my spine.
I nodded solemnly.
"Come. We don't have much time."
We moved quickly through the battlefield. Erevan's soldiers were like shadows, their wounds healing unnaturally fast. They fought without fear, driven by their master's madness.
But we had an advantage now.
The werewolves' moonlight dust had slowed their regeneration. The vampires, once hesitant, had now unleashed their full strength.
For the first time since the battle began, Erevan's army wavered. The tides were shifting.
As we pushed forward, I caught glimpses of my allies—Xander's crimson gaze burning with fury as he fought back-to-back with Vlad, the two of them a whirlwind of destruction.
In the distance, Holumis stood, her golden aura a beacon against the darkness, her elven warriors holding their ground beside her.
And then, finally, we reached the heart of the palace.
The once-grand hallways were now ruins, the marble floors cracked and stained with blood.
At the center stood Vesperia—regal, unyielding, her aura pulsing with protective magic.
Despite her strength, traces of blood lined her nose, a reminder of Erevan's earlier magical assault.
Beside her stood Silvanor, his posture rigid with restrained fury. The Elven Commander was a warrior first, a ruler second, and his emerald eyes burned with the quiet rage of someone who had lost too much but refused to lose more.
Vesperia turned as we approached, her sharp gaze flickering over Edee and the clairvoyant. Though composed, her expression carried the weight of exhaustion.
"May I know why you bring them to me?" Her voice was calm, but beneath it lay an unspoken demand for answers.
"They have foresight," I explained quickly. "They've been working together to create something—an antidote. Not just to stop the corruption, but to cleanse Erevan without killing him."
Silvanor's brows lifted slightly, doubt flickering in his eyes.
"Such a thing is possible?"
The lycan clairvoyant stepped forward, gripping the gnarled wooden staff in his hand.
"The corruption binding Erevan is ancient, but not unbreakable," he said.
"It has roots in forbidden magic. But if we weave our powers together—light magic, lycan foresight, and nature's wisdom—we can sever it at its core."
Edee pulled out a small satchel, carefully untying the delicate knot that sealed it shut.
As the fabric fell away, shimmering silver powder pulsed with a soft glow, its light reflecting in Vesperia's narrowed eyes.
"This is infused moonlight dust, mixed with the essence of sacred elven trees," Edee revealed.
"But we need it in large volumes."
"I can help!" I offered immediately.
Vesperia, however, lifted a hand.
"No. I will summon the elven women who are not on the battlefield. They should be enough."
Edee gave a small nod, pressing the satchel shut once more.
"Then let us begin," she said firmly.
"This antidote must reach him before the corruption fully consumes what remains of his soul."
Silvanor exhaled slowly, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair.
"Vesperia will lead this ritual."
A silent understanding passed between them all.
Vesperia squared her shoulders, her gaze sharp as steel.
"Follow me. Every second we delay brings Erevan closer to the point of no return. If we do not act now, Erevan will cease to exist entirely."
She turned to me, her piercing gaze unwavering.
"Stay by Oregon's side. Both of you share the same fate."
I stiffened, straightening my spine. "I will."
For a long moment, she studied me, searching for hesitation—for fear. Finding none, she sighed, finally relenting.
"Then we must move quickly."
Edee and the clairvoyant stepped forward, already chanting in low, rhythmic voices.
The air around us hummed with magic, the silver dust rising from Edee's palm like swirling mist. The energy was tangible, pressing against my skin, vibrating in my bones.
I took a deep breath.
Oregon. I had to find him.
Without hesitation, I turned and sprinted back toward the battlefield.
The scene before me had worsened. The sky had darkened further, thick clouds rolling in, crackling with unnatural lightning.
The ground itself trembled beneath my feet as if the earth itself protested the corruption spreading across it.
Then I saw him.
Oregon stood at the center of it all, his golden armor cracked, his body covered in fresh wounds that dripped with both blood and magic.
He was wounded but still standing.
His eyes, though filled with exhaustion, still burned with unwavering determination.
With elven enchantments glowing upon his bow, arrows, and twin blades, he held back the dark energy of Erevan's corrupted forces, who had him surrounded.
"I thought you said you had an invisible shield?" I asked, touching his wrist gently.
"I shared it with you, but you left," he said, his voice strained.
"That's why I ended up like this."
Guilt twisted in my chest.
"I'm sorry. Come inside—rest for a while."
I moved to support his tall frame.
"It's okay. I'm fine," he said, brushing me off. "I need to finish this."
"Wait!" I said.
I extended my arm, striving to lessen the space between us, my fingertips softly cupping his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet mine.
"Oregon, listen to me. We have a way to cleanse Erevan!" I told him.