The battle had turned into chaos, and everyone had faltered in the wake of Silas’s attack. Rowan and Layla had seen Silas do extraordinary things before, but this... this was different. The sheer size and power of the fiery column shook them to their core. For a moment, Rowan felt his grip on his sword slacken as he fought to process what he'd just witnessed. Layla’s heart jumped in her chest, her mind racing—what kind of power was this?

Was Ariyeh Dam alive or dead? This question loomed over everyone’s head. Ariyeh was pushed away from the main battlefield by Dean’s continuous luring and Silas’s wind assault; with no visual confirmation, the thought of his death hung heavily in the air. The ground trembled, and golden particles of sand blasted into the air as Silas unleashed the power of three magic arrays. Even from a distance, the searing heat from his fiery column was palpable

Layla was the first to shake off the shock. Her hands trembled, and her heart pounded, but she forced herself into action. Swinging her morningstar with fluid precision, she caught the nearest guard off guard. The spiked ball connected, slashing across his arm and eliciting a sharp cry of pain as blood poured from the wound. “Rowan, snap out of it! We’re not done yet!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the haze of shock.

Rowan shook his head to clear the lingering shock from Silas's attack. Just as he steadied himself, the Tier Two Soulweaver's blade came crashing down on him. His muscles tensed as their swords met with a deafening clang, sending a jarring force up his arm.

He gritted his teeth, sweat trickling down his face as he tried to regain focus. Meanwhile, the guard Layla was fighting lost his initial bravado, and it was clear that fear had begun to take hold. Where once the enemy attacked with ferocity, now they hesitated. The fear of what Silas might do next hung over the battlefield like a storm cloud, and it made them cautious.

The guards snapped out of their daze, but the fight had drained from them. Some glanced nervously at each other, their grips faltering on their weapons, while others held onto their swords with shaking hands, eyes darting between Silas and the battlefield like cornered animals.

Layla could see it in their eyes—they were no longer fighting to win. They were fighting to survive, to escape whatever terrible power had assaulted their leader.

As Rowan and Layla fought on, Dean crested a nearby sand dune, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield. With the chaos still swirling around him, he raised his voice, cutting through the noise with commanding authority. “Ariyeh Dam is dead! Surrender now, and you’ll live and be dealt with under the Remington Clan’s laws!”

For a brief moment, the battlefield stilled. Several of the guards glanced around, their faces betraying doubt and fear. With the confirmation of Ariyeh’s death, Dean’s offer seemed tempting; they had all seen that attack on Ariyeh Dam—and assumed what happened afterwards. Surrendering might be their only chance.

One of the guards fighting Layla faltered, eyes darting nervously between the chaos. His sword wavered in his grip. “I... I don’t want to die,” he stammered, backing away with trembling hands.

But before he could say another word or run, the Tier One Soulweaver drove his blade through the man’s neck. Blood sprayed across the ground, and the guard collapsed, choking on his own blood. The Soulweaver yanked his blade free and turned to the others with a wild look in his eyes.

"Surrender, and I'll kill you myself!" the Soulweaver roared, his voice hoarse with desperation. The guards around him flinched, their expressions torn between fear of the Soulweaver and the threat of Silas’s overwhelming power.

At the same time, the Tier Two Soulweaver battling Rowan shouted to his own group. “You think they’ll go easy on you if you surrender? Stop dreaming! Fight or rot in a Remington cell for the rest of your miserable life!'”

The guards in the immediate vicinity grew restless, their resolve crumbling. But the Soulweavers, desperate to maintain control, kept a close watch on them, their eyes full of warning. They knew that if the guards surrendered en masse, the battle would be over, and with Silas hovering ominously above them, none of them wanted to be the next target of that terrifying magic.

Meanwhile, the ice that Trickster had blasted earlier had begun to melt, softened by the intense heat generated by Silas’s attack. The four guards who had been frozen earlier now began to break free. One of them, trembling with fear, immediately ran toward Dean, his voice pleading.

“I surrender! I don’t want to die!”

The others hesitated only momentarily before following suit, casting nervous glances at Trickster and Goldie, who had been watching them intently. They knew that the two beasts would tear them apart if they didn’t surrender.

Dean nodded to the guards, his expression grim. "Don't move," he barked at the guards, then called to Silas. "Silas! Watch them!"

Still floating in the air with Breeze’s help, Silas gritted his teeth against the pain. His whole body ached, and it felt like every bone in his body was about to break under the strain of the rebound from using the magic arrays. His vision blurred slightly, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. He glared down at the surrendering guards, his expression cold and unyielding.

The unspoken threat was clear: one wrong move and another column of fire would rain down on them.

Dean, seeing that the situation was under control, turned his attention back to the battle and rushed to Krave’s side. Together, they engaged the Tier Two Soulweaver in a fierce duel, their combined strength gradually overwhelming their opponent.

Meanwhile, Trickster and Goldie sprang into action. Trickster, with his serpentine grace, slithered toward Rowan’s battle. His movements were swift and unpredictable, darting in and out of his opponent’s defences. Rowan met Trickster’s gaze briefly, a silent understanding passing between them as they coordinated their attacks.

On the other hand, Goldie barreled toward Layla with his characteristic ferocity. “Wow!” he barked, his small form deceptively quick as he launched himself at a guard Layla was fighting. The man barely had time to react before Goldie slammed into him, knocking him off balance. Layla seized the opportunity, her morningstar swung in a deadly arc and smashed his head apart like a watermelon due to the Spirit Infusion applied to it.

The battlefield had descended into madness, but the tide was clearly shifting. Fear was eroding the enemy’s resolve, and while the Soulweavers tried to keep control, it was only a matter of time before their efforts crumbled.

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Silas hovered above, his sharp gaze scanning the battlefield. His whole body screamed in agony, but he couldn’t afford to falter. The battle was not yet over, and the fear he had instilled in his enemies was the key to their victory.

The battlefield was drenched in blood and fear; victory was within reach.

Layla’s gaze darted over the scene as she wiped the blood from her face. Only the Tier One Soulweaver was left standing against her and Goldie. His once confident stance crumbled into a desperate and shaky defence as he fended off their relentless assault.

“Wow!” Goldie barked loudly, his golden fur shimmering with excitement despite the gore that drenched it. Layla instantly understood the signal. Without hesitation, she pressed her palms to her ears and took several steps back.

Goldie unleashed a deafening roar, a potent sound that felt like the earth trembled. The Tier One Soulweaver dropped his sword in the disorienting wave of sound, clutching his ears as blood trickled from them. He staggered backwards, disoriented, his body wobbling.

“Now!” Layla growled, her eyes flashing as she raised her hand to cast a Minor Soul Disruption.

It struck the Soulweaver like a hammer, twisting his mind and amplifying his confusion. His feet stumbled, his vision swirled, and his balance faltered. Layla’s morningstar glowed with a Spirit Infusion as she swung it in a wide arc.

“Die!” she hissed under her breath as the chains whistled through the air.

The morningstar smashed into his skull. His head popped with a wet crack, spraying bits of bone and brain across the battlefield. Blood poured from the shattered remains of his body, painting the ground beneath him in a macabre display.

“That’s it,” Layla muttered to Goldie, who let out a final bark of triumph. She glanced toward Rowan’s direction, where he and Trickster were locked in a brutal fight with the Tier Two Soulweaver.

“We’ve gotta help them—now,” Layla urged, her voice tight with adrenaline. They darted toward the other battle, arriving just as Trickster slithered towards the man, its venomous mist clouding the Soulweaver’s senses.

Rowan and Layla instinctively covered their noses, backing off as the mist thickened. The Tier Two Soulweaver coughed violently, his steps faltering as the venom seeped into his bloodstream. His eyes grew wide and frantic, trying to assess his surroundings through the fog of venom.

“Get back!” the Soulweaver rasped, his voice cracking. “You fuckin—” His words were cut off as Goldie darted through the venomous haze, his claws a blur as they sliced across the man’s neck with savage accuracy.

Blood sprayed into the air in a thick, arcing stream. The Soulweaver screamed, his hands flying to his neck in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Rage twisted his features as he kicked Goldie away. He then slashed wildly at Goldie in anger.

But Rowan and Layla, who had retreated, arrived just in time to cast Soul Bind on him.

Their combined power struck the Soulweaver like chains, freezing him in place mid-attack. His muscles locked, his eyes bulging with panic as his body strained against the invisible bindings.

Goldie, who was infuriated at being kicked, wasted no time. His small frame moved with surprising speed as he lunged forward, his claws sinking deep into the Soulweaver’s throat. This time, instead of just cutting, his claws tore through flesh like it was paper. There was a wet, ripping sound as Goldie’s tiny arm emerged from the other side of the man’s neck, covered in thick, dark blood.

The Soulweaver’s body twitched violently, his sword slipping from his grasp as his eyes rolled back. He collapsed to his knees, his body spasming before finally going limp.

Goldie blinked at his claws, dripping with blood. ‘Wow?’ he barked, uncertain, as if asking for reassurance. Even he seemed shocked by the force of his attack. He raised his paw to scratch his head in confusion, but then paused, staring at his blood-covered claws in bewilderment. He gave Rowan and Layla a questioning look as if seeking an explanation for his newfound strength.

Layla let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding, but only a puzzled question rolled out of her mouth, “You uh... You saw that, right?”

Rowan was just as astonished and didn’t know how to reply. Eventually, he said, “Well... We’ll figure it out later.”

On the other side of the battlefield, Dean and Krave were locked in a deadly dance with another Tier Two Soulweaver. The man’s hands glowed with dark energy as he raised them toward Krave, casting a Greater Soul Disruption, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

Krave’s eyes went wide as the spell took hold. His thoughts fragmented, his grip on his axe loosening as confusion spread through his mind. For a split second, he stood dazed, his usual confident posture wavering.

“I’ll kill you first, fucker!” the Soulweaver growled, taking advantage of Krave’s vulnerability.

But Dean was already moving. His sword flashed through the air, aiming for the Soulweaver’s waist. The Tier Two Soulweaver twisted, barely managing to block the attack, but the distraction broke his focus.

Krave shook his head, his vision clearing. He gritted his teeth and cast a Minor Soul Disruption in retaliation.

It struck the Soulweaver, scrambling his thoughts in retaliation. The Soulweaver’s body jerked, his arms faltering as his mind spun into chaos.

Dean’s eyes gleamed with cold determination. “This is the end for you,” he hissed, casting Soul Shackles. The ethereal chains snapped around the Soulweaver, locking his body in place as Dean’s spell took hold. The man’s face twisted in terror as he tried to break free, but the shackles held firm.

Krave grinned viciously, his axe glowing with the combined power of two minor spirits. He raised the weapon high, its edge gleaming with spiritual energy, and brought it down with a thunderous crash.

The Soulweaver’s head split open under the force of the blow, his body cleaving in two as the axe cleaved through flesh, bone, and spirit alike. Blood and viscera splattered across the ground, the Soulweaver’s body collapsing in a grotesque heap at Krave’s feet.

Krave wiped his bloodstained face, a savage grin plastered on his features. “Luther!” he called, already turning toward the next fight.

Luther, locked in a vicious struggle with a Tier One Soulweaver and the remaining guards, barely spared him a glance. “Get over here!” he barked. “I’ll need you to finish these bastards off.”

Krave grinned, charging toward the melee, his axe raised high. Together, they tore through the remaining guards ruthlessly, synchronising as they fought. The Tier One Soulweaver barely had time to scream before Krave’s axe buried itself in his chest, cleaving through armour and bone.

Meanwhile, Dean rushed to aid Cudgel and Danny. The two of them had already killed three guards, their bodies strewn around them in a pool of blood. Two more enemies were left—a Tier One Soulweaver and a guard, both of whom had been incapacitated by brutal slashes to their arms and legs. More noticeably, the Soulweaver was missing a leg.

“We’ve got two alive!” Danny called, panting heavily as he kicked the guard’s weapon away.

Dean nodded, glancing down at the bloodied captives writhing on the ground. “Good,” he said grimly. “Let’s make sure they don’t bleed out. We’ll need answers.”

The battlefield lay silent now, the only sounds being the laboured breathing of the survivors and the rustling wind. The victory was theirs.