The dawn over Sylvan Bastion was an open wound in the sky, spewing black smoke from shattered towers that danced with icy mist. The air, heavy as a shroud, reeked of a brutal mix of clotted blood, the biting tang of magical ozone, and the nauseating sweetness of charred flesh. The courtyard, once a place of order, was now a crimson quagmire, splattered with emerald sap and the broken remains of hundreds of fallen warriors. Splintered arrows, notched swords, and fragments of armor lay scattered, forgotten offerings to a war god. Beneath this desolate scene, the earth trembled to the relentless rhythm of an unending battle.
A kilometer away, the colossus loomed, a towering giant of wood and metal, its core pulsing with sinister energy. Neon-green runes, etched into its surface like glowing scars, radiated a dark, unnatural shimmer. A guttural roar, born of nightmare and madness, erupted from its depths, shaking the ground and freezing blood in veins. But here, in the heart of the courtyard, the fury of the Holy Order burned with an intensity that eclipsed any machine.
Renn stood on a mound at the edge of chaos, his tattered cloak billowing in the cold wind, the banner of faith pulsing in his hand like a beating heart. His gray eyes, veiled by exhaustion but sparked with fierce resolve, scanned the ravaged battlefield. To his right, Lilith rose, her black wings streaked with gold taut as bowstrings, her red eyes blazing with an intensity that cut through the fog like blades. To his left, Nyra emerged from the shadows like a specter, dark whips dancing between her fingers, ready for the dance of death. The Templars—Astrid, Vera, Sigrid, Thalia, Selene, Lirien—formed a line behind, their weapons glinting with the pale light of dawn, their faces carved with unyielding determination. Beyond, on a fog-shrouded ridge, a lone figure caught his eye: Seraphina, motionless, her white robe glowing like a contained beacon, her aura vibrating silently, like a storm about to break. She didn't move, didn't speak, but her presence was a tacit reminder of a greater power yet to be unleashed.
A tremor shook the courtyard, followed by a distant roar that cracked the broken barricades. Valka, a kilometer away, battled the colossus with untamed ferocity, her war chant faintly echoing, a defiant cry piercing the fog like a distant battle scream. Renn felt a palpable pressure, a surge of dark power threatening to smother the golden warmth of the banner at his back. He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, his breath escaping in short puffs that dissolved in the frigid air.
"Damn it!" Renn roared, kicking a chunk of debris that flew into a dead kobold, bouncing with a dull thud. "I won't let her fall!" He turned to Lilith, his voice sharp as a sword's edge. "Lilith, handle those bastards! I'm going for Valka!"
Lilith let out a wild laugh, her wings beating with glorious ferocity. "Oh, my lord, with pleasure!" she sang, her red eyes flashing with manic joy. "This is gonna be a show worthy of your eyes!" She launched forward like a meteor of shadow and light, her hands raised as if conducting an orchestra of death.
Renn didn't wait another second. He ran, the banner of faith raised as both weapon and shield, his tattered cloak tearing against the icy wind. Arrows whistled dangerously close, some ricocheting off the golden glow emanating from the sacred cloth. A kobold lunged at him from the left, its rusted spear raised in a desperate strike, but Renn spun with surprising agility, the banner slicing the air like a divine whip. Light enveloped the kobold, and it fell with a choked scream, its chest smoking as if struck by lightning. An elf mage conjured a sphere of green fire, but Renn deflected it with a swift motion of the banner, the cloth pulsing with a force that burned his fingers. Valka needs this. Now.
Lilith was already in the courtyard's center, a whirlwind of chaos and destruction carving through Ardyn's defensive line like a hot knife through butter. "Holy Veil of Shadows!" she roared, her voice ringing with divine edge. From the blood-soaked ground sprouted thorns of darkness laced with golden threads, spreading in a fifty-meter radius. Hundreds of kobolds and elves were impaled, their agonized screams drowned by the crunch of bones and the tearing symphony of ripped flesh. An elven war chariot charged toward the Templars' ranks, but Lilith snapped her fingers with a cruel smile, conjuring an illusion of a blazing angel before it. The driver screeched to a halt, terrified, only to be mercilessly crushed when Astrid charged from the flank with a bestial roar.
Astrid bellowed, her spear imbued with blinding celestial light, striking with the unstoppable force of an enraged god. The chariot splintered into fragments, its occupants flung like dry leaves, their bodies bursting against the mud with a wet, gruesome thud. "For the lord!" she screamed, her voice a thunder that drowned the moans of the fallen. Vera, her eyes cold as eternal ice, swung her greatsword like a divine warhammer, shattering shields and skulls with each brutal strike. An elf warrior, in a desperate act of bravery, raised his blade against her, but Vera cleaved him in two like paper, blood splattering her armor like paint on a broken canvas. Her attacks boomed like thunder, shaking the quagmire beneath her feet.
Sigrid and Thalia moved through enemy ranks like vengeful specters, their spears tracing trails of blood in the air. They severed limbs, opened torsos with lethal precision, their movements so synchronized they seemed a single entity of destruction under the banner's growing light. A group of kobolds tried to flank them, but Sigrid spun with feline agility, her spear piercing three chests in one fluid motion, while Thalia leaped over a fallen corpse and drove her weapon into a mage, silencing a half-cast spell. "No escape!" Thalia hissed, her voice sharp as a freshly honed blade.
Selene, perched atop a pile of rubble, drew her bow repeatedly with deadly precision, firing arrows of pure light that pierced three, four, even five enemies at once. An elf mage raised his hands, a runic shield flickering weakly before him, but Selene's arrow shattered it like glass, lodging in his eye with a dull, final thud. Other mages fell before their spells could even be whispered, their bodies crumpling into the mud like puppets with cut strings.
Lirien, with a curved spear dancing in her hands like an extension of her soul, cut through entire ranks of kobolds with acrobatic spins. Her weapon left a trail of bright blood, each strike a perfect arc that severed legs and throats with chilling efficiency. An elf tried to ambush her from the side, but Lirien spun with startling speed, her spear tracing a lethal circle that split his chest wide open, the body collapsing with a wet gurgle. "For the Order!" she cried, her voice ringing with ferocity that drove nearby enemies back.
"Hahaha! See this?! This is my lord's wrath!" Lilith howled, dancing through the still-whistling arrows, her wings beating gusts that kicked up clouds of dust and blood. She wove grotesque illusions—winged demons wreathed in hellfire, vengeful angels wielding swords of blinding light—that sowed panic in the hearts of Ardyn's soldiers. A group of elves turned mid-battle, hacking at each other in a frenzied terror, their blades sinking into allies as they screamed of monsters existing only in their tormented minds. Others fled in panic, trampling one another in the mire, their boots slipping in the blood now coating every inch of the battlefield. The demoralization was total. The courtyard was no longer a battlefield; it was Lilith's personal realm, a garden of horrors she cultivated with manic glee. Feel this, my lord! she thought, her laughter slicing the air like a cruel whip.
Renn kept running, the banner heavy in his hands but driving him forward like an extension of his will. A giant kobold, its claws sharp as daggers, blocked his path, roaring with a mouth full of yellowed fangs. "Lilith!" Renn shouted, dodging a swipe that tore a chunk from his tattered cloak. "Get it off me!"
"On it, my lord!" Lilith replied, appearing as a blur of shadow and light. Her hands raised a veil of shadows that enveloped the giant kobold, making it stumble clumsily, its claws slashing empty air. Before it could recover, Vera charged from the side with a savage roar, her greatsword cleaving the monster's skull with a sickening crunch that echoed across the courtyard. "Go, my lord!" Vera shouted, spinning instantly to face another approaching foe.
Renn didn't look back. His boots sloshed through thick mud, blood splashing his legs as he ran. An arrow grazed his shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain, but the banner flared brightly, deflecting another that would've hit his chest. In the distance, he glimpsed Valka, hemmed in by a grotesque cage of wooden scythes rising from the ground like demon fangs. Blood poured from her leg, staining the mud around her, and her spear trembled slightly in her hand. Her eyes, two shards of ice carved by battle, were fixed on the colossus, but her body was faltering under relentless pressure.
"Hold on, Valka!" Renn roared, his rasping voice cutting the distance between them. An elf archer tried to stop him, aiming his bow, but Lirien appeared from nowhere, her curved spear piercing his throat before he could fire. "Run, my lord! I've got these!" Lirien yelled, spinning to face another foe lunging at her.
With a final desperate push, Renn surged forward, the banner raised like a beacon of hope amid the darkness. Kobolds charged from the flanks, their small faces twisted with rage, but Lilith was there, her shadows slicing like honed scythes, her illusions turning enemies into prey of their own terror. "Come on, fools, dance for me!" she sang with macabre glee, as a group of kobolds stabbed each other, confused by an illusory specter of her magic. The Templars covered his advance with relentless ferocity, their weapons flashing in a deadly dance that carved a path of blood and broken bodies through the chaos.
Renn finally reached a clearing fifty meters from Valka, the colossus towering like a mountain of corrupted wood and metal at her back. With a masterful twist, he planted the banner into the blood-soaked ground, the sacred cloth pulsing with a golden light that erupted like a rising sun. A wave of warm, revitalizing energy enveloped Valka, closing the wound on her leg in an instant, restoring her depleted strength, and making her glow with renewed vigor. The same light spread to Lilith and the Templars in the courtyard, their wounds healing swiftly, their movements growing faster, deadlier.
Valka felt the banner's power course through her, fatigue vanishing like mist under morning sun. She rose, a new fire blazing in her eyes, her spear gleaming with an oceanic blue, her gaze burning with fierce resolve. "For my lord!" she roared, her voice a war song that shook the air around her. She spun her spear with startling agility, dodging a wooden scythe that slashed the ground beside her, and charged the colossus with the speed of lightning in the fog.
"Hear me, all of you!" Renn bellowed, his voice ringing with supernatural authority as he fell back toward the courtyard, the banner blazing brightly in the distance. "Keep at them! Leave none standing!"
Lilith felt the banner's surge of power, Renn's strength flowing through her like an unstoppable torrent. "YES! More power for my lord!" she howled with savage joy, her wings beating with ferocity that kicked up a gust of mud and blood. She dove back into the courtyard's center, the Templars following like an unstoppable tide of death. Astrid split another war chariot in half with a single blow, Vera smashed an improvised barricade, Sigrid and Thalia mowed down entire enemy ranks with synchronized, lethal strikes, Selene picked off mages from her rubble perch, and Lirien danced through kobolds, her curved spear leaving a trail of shattered bodies.
The elves screamed in terror, their swords trembling in their hands: "They don't fall! They're demons!" Kobolds trampled each other in desperate flight, their shrill cries drowned by Lilith's manic laughter. A mage, in a final act of defiance, tried to conjure one last spell, a glowing green orb, but Selene pierced him with an arrow of pure light, and Lilith finished the job with a sharp shadow that tore his head from his shoulders.
The courtyard was hell on earth, and the Holy Order roared as its sole god.
************************************************
CLANG! CLANG!
Shields clashed, but the fog of Sylvan Bastion remained thick, a shroud for the weak.
DRIP! DRIP!
Sap oozed from fallen trees, a slow lament in the air that stank of wet ash and fresh blood. The ground was a chaos of broken wood, shattered armor, and lifeless bodies—elves and kobolds who didn't survive the initial fury. Silence, a lie broken by the crunch of footsteps and the hum of dying runes in the Bastion's inner clearing.
Nyra, at the center, was darkness incarnate. Her black habit billowed like a deadly whisper, her amethyst eyes gleaming with cold vengeance that sliced through the fog. Before her, Eryndor and his thirty-one elites formed a tense semicircle. Elves with humming swords, their faces etched with fear and defiance. Kobolds with venomous claws, yellow eyes flickering with savage hunger. Eryndor, pale as a corpse, clutched his runic staff, fingers trembling, dread carved into his face. But his eyes still burned, a leader refusing to yield.
"Don't… don't come closer!" he stammered, his voice breaking, but he raised the staff.
SHINE!
A green shield pulsed before him, weak as a sickly heartbeat. "Formation! End her now!" he roared, trying to sound firm, though sweat beaded his brow, betraying his panic.
Nyra smiled, a cold, predatory grin that snuffed out all hope. Her body tensed, ready to devour. "Too late for pleas," she whispered, her voice soft as black silk, as dangerous as a freshly sharpened blade. "Did you think you had a chance?"
WHOOSH!
She didn't run. Her form vanished in a blur of shadows, dancing through the fog like a vengeful specter from dark legends. What… what is that speed? an elf thought, his eyes widening, his sword trembling in his hand.
An elf charged from the right, his enchanted blade slicing the air with a menacing hum. Nyra spun with inhuman grace, bending like a leaf in the wind.
CRUNCH!
A shadow whip lashed from her hand, striking the elf's arm with brutal force. Blood sprayed the mud, his scream choked by the crack of shattered bone, his weapon falling with a dull thud. Impossible! another elf thought, his heart pounding wildly.
THWACK!
Two kobolds lunged from the flank, their venomous claws glinting like poisoned needles. Nyra leaped, scaling a fallen log with feline agility. She used the momentum to dive at them, her shadows exploding like living claws that tore through the air.
SPLASH!
One kobold was sliced in half, its guts spilling with a wet sound.
CHOP!
The other lost its head, rolling against a pile of debris. She's a demon from old tales! a kobold thought, fear paralyzing it before it collapsed.
FUUUUUUM!
Eryndor raised his staff, a bolt of green arcane energy whistling with terrifying speed. Nyra slid beneath it, the ground exploding behind her in a shower of dirt and sap. "Flank her, now!" he roared, and four elves advanced in formation, their swords gleaming in a deadly arc. Together, we can! they told themselves, though their eyes betrayed broken hope.
HAH!
Nyra laughed, a low sound that cut the air like a knife. Her shadows rose like a dark tide, enveloping the elves in a web of invisible blades.
SHICK!
Two fell decapitated, their heads rolling in the mud.
CRACK!
A third was pierced through the chest, his armor crumpling like tin. The fourth raised a magical shield, his face pale.
SWOOP!
Nyra appeared behind, a shadowy claw ripping out his still-beating heart. The body collapsed with a gurgle, blood staining her boots a deep red. This is a nightmare! Eryndor thought, paling further, his staff trembling.
"Damned shadow! You're nothing but a pawn!" Eryndor shouted, his voice cracking but laced with contempt. He raised his staff, conjuring a circle of runes that glowed on the ground.
WHOOSH!
Green magical chains erupted, twisting like snakes to bind her. Nyra dodged with an inhuman pirouette, but a kobold mage seized the distraction, hurling a fire spell that exploded at her side.
BOOM!
The blast threw her against a log, the impact drawing a grunt. Cold mud bit her boots, the wind howling in the fog like a lament. A burning cut opened on her shoulder, blood dripping thickly against her habit. Damn, it grazed me! she thought, her expression tightening.
ZUM!
Five elites charged, their swords and claws flashing, circling her like a closing trap. An elf slashed her arm, a thread of blood spraying the air.
THRUST!
A kobold stabbed with its spear, the tip grazing her hip. Nyra gritted her teeth, her amethyst eyes blazing with cold fury. "Is this all you've got?" she hissed, her laugh chilling the blood.
WHOOSH!
Her shadows erupted, a whirlwind of blades that shattered the formation.
CRUNCH!
The elf who struck her was cleaved in two, his scream cut off by the snap of his spine. No… it can't be! was his last thought.
SLASH!
The kobold lost both arms, falling with a wail. The other three backed off, but Nyra skewered them with a shadow whip, their bodies collapsing in a bloody heap.
FUUUUUUM!
Eryndor conjured a wider beam, the air crackling with ozone. Nyra dodged, but the shockwave made her stumble, her boot slipping in the mud. An elf mage cast a chain spell, hitting its mark this time.
SNAP!
Green runes coiled around her leg, pinning her.
GROWL!
Three kobolds charged, their venomous claws raised. Nyra, trapped, gasped, blood dripping hot from her shoulder. "Finish her!" Eryndor screamed, his staff glowing with anguished light. We've got her! he thought, a flicker of hope on his face.
WHOOM!
A golden light sliced through the fog, warm as the sun, cold as justice. Renn's banner, planted a hundred meters away, pulsed, flooding Nyra with her lord's power. The pain in her shoulder vanished, her arm healed in a heartbeat.
CRACK!
The chains shattered, and her shadows rose, slicing the air like liquid obsidian. "For my lord," she growled, her voice a deadly echo resonating in the clearing. What… what's happening? Eryndor thought, his hope crumbling.
The kobolds stood no chance. Nyra danced through their attacks, a specter of supernatural speed.
SLICE!
A shadow whip decapitated the first, its head rolling with a dull thud.
SPLASH!
A shadowy claw pierced the second, ripping out its heart with a wet snap. My magic… it doesn't touch her! a mage thought, his spell dying in his throat.
CLANG!
The third raised its spear, but Nyra used it as a shield, an elf's arrow piercing it with a choked scream.
Twenty elites remained, and the mages tried a counterattack.
FWOOSH!
Four conjured a ring of fire, green flames roaring toward Nyra, scorching the air with an ozone stench. She raised her hands, shadows bursting like a tidal wave, snuffing the flames in a cloud of steam and ash.
SHICK!
One mage fell, his chest torn open, blood splashing a log.
GURGLE!
Another collapsed, his throat slashed, his spell dying in a red gurgle. We're done for! an elite screamed, his courage shattered.
Fifteen remained, their swords shaking, their eyes darting between mutilated bodies. Eryndor stumbled back, tripping, but raised his staff. "Damned shadow!" he roared, his voice a thread of fury. He cast a spell against her shadows, green runes trying to dispel them.
FZZZT!
Nyra's shadows flickered, but she laughed. "Hold fast!" Eryndor yelled, his green dome pulsing weakly.
Nyra charged him, shadows cloaking her like armor.
CRASH!
A whirlwind of runes struck, tearing her habit, but she emerged unscathed, her face a mask of cold fury. "Your magic is weak," she hissed, and vanished.
SWOOP!
Eryndor spun, searching. "You won't take me with you!" he screamed, but it was too late. Nyra reappeared behind, her shadowy hand at his throat.
CLUNK!
The staff fell, its runes fading. His eyes widened, absolute horror etched in them.
"For my lord," Nyra hissed, and with a precise twist,
CRACK!
She snapped his neck. The sound echoed, freezing the clearing in sepulchral silence.
AAAAAHH!
The elites screamed, their discipline broken. Some launched spells—green bolts, fireballs—but Nyra was among them, a spectral Death.
SLICE!
Shadows cut, decapitating, dismembering. An elf tried to flee, but
THWACK!
A shadow pinned him to a log. A kobold raised its claws, but
RIP!
Nyra split it at the waist, its halves splashing in the mud. Her speed was unreal, each strike lethal. In ten seconds, the clearing was carpeted with grotesque corpses, the air thick with blood and ash.
Nyra rose, her habit pristine save for blood drops on her fingers, her body healed by the banner. Every strike, every death, is for him, she thought, her chest heaving, her face serene, a dagger of faith. His light will never fade. She looked north, a distant roar from the colossus shaking the earth, an echo of Valka's fury. "I'm coming," she murmured into the communication crystal, her voice calm and deadly.
The clearing lay in broken silence, blood and sap dripping into the mud. But the Bastion wasn't still. From another front, a blinding light erupted, a fractured sun that burned the eyes.
RUMBLE!
A deafening roar followed, a thunder that cracked the ground, scattering the fog as if it fled the glare. The smell of burnt ozone filled the air, the heat of the radiance grazing skin. Kobolds in the courtyard dropped their spears, elf archers loosed their bows. Nyra looked up, her amethyst eyes narrowing, a spark of curiosity cutting her calm.
Renn, in the courtyard, turned toward the light, the banner humming in his hand. "What the hell was that?" he growled, his rasping voice lost in the echo. Lilith laughed, her wings beating playfully. "Something big, my lord! And I bet it's ours!" The fog held its breath, the Bastion trembling in the promise of a greater storm.