Valantz, instead of succumbing to fear, smiled defiantly. "Nyxial, aim at it."

Nyxial neighed, the sound deep and powerful, releasing dense shadows from its nostrils and twilight flames from its mouth. Without hesitation, it accelerated, launching toward the creature at an impressive speed. The Shyvrakth, in turn, dove toward them, its terrifying beak wide open—long and sharp like a serrated blade, its edges coated in a disturbing black liquid that dripped like tar.

Just before impact, Valantz raised a hand to the sky and shouted, "Thalmyr!"

A lightning bolt tore through the clouds above them, illuminating the sky for an instant. The surge struck Valantz's hand, and as if by magic, he found himself gripping a hammer. The weapon was massive, its head gleaming, adorned with ancient runes that pulsed with a radiant blue light. The handle seemed to be made of a silver and obsidian alloy, and the energy it emanated was almost tangible, as if it were an extension of a god’s fury.

With a battle cry, Valantz struck with all his might. The hammer crashed down onto the Shyvrakth’s beak, which in itself seemed like a deadly weapon. It was black, streaked with red veins, and its surface was so sharp it sent shivers down the spine of anyone who looked at it. The impact was devastating: the beak shattered with a chilling sound, like the crackling of breaking bones.

The creature let out a heart-wrenching scream, then lost consciousness and plummeted to the ground like a stone.

Still satisfied with his strike, Valantz looked down to watch the monster fall, but that was when his smile turned to shock. Just below him, Aster was tumbling through the air, screaming in panic.

"Again?!" Valantz blurted out, exasperated.

Nyxial snorted, releasing a wave of irritated shadows. "Elves just can't be trusted," it remarked sarcastically.

Without waiting for orders, the pegasus dived. With agility and quick reflexes, Valantz caught Aster just in time, hoisting him back onto Nyxial’s back. Aster, pale as a vampire, looked on the verge of vomiting, but with a weak voice, he managed to say:

"Thank you... Thank you both..."

They finally landed atop the tower, where an immense nest awaited them. Made of intertwined branches and broken bones, it looked like a trap, ready to ensnare anyone daring to approach.

The nest loomed over them like a spectral fortress, even taller than Nyxial, the most imposing of the three. Gnarled branches and fractured bones intertwined to form a natural barrier, jagged like a wall of spears—an insidious obstacle that prevented Nyxial from landing without risking injury to its wings.

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Aster turned to Valantz, his voice filled with both hope and anxiety.

"Are you sure she's in there?"

Valantz nodded firmly. "Yes, the trail of notes doesn't lie. Gelsomina is here."

Aster wasted no more time. He approached the nest and began to climb, gripping the branches and bones that made up that monstrous structure. Every foothold was treacherous, every grip threatened to give way under his weight. And indeed, one misstep was enough—a branch suddenly snapped beneath his foot, sending him sliding backward. With a desperate reflex, he grabbed onto an enormous bone, larger than himself.

A mistake.

The bone, serrated and sharp like a blade of stone, slashed his palm with a deep cut. Aster stifled a cry and yanked his wounded hand away, blood gushing freely... and in that moment, something appeared before his eyes.

A crimson bar.

It slowly drained—just a little, but enough to make him shudder.

"This again..." he whispered.

It was the second time he had seen it, but the first had vanished too quickly for him to understand it. Now, however, he could observe it better: no numbers, no precise indicators, just a blood-filled bar with a single word to its left.

Life

Aster gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. The blood dripping from his hand dissolved into the air in a cascade of shimmering numbers and data before it could even touch the ground. Ignoring the phenomenon, he got back up and pressed forward, determined, until he finally overcame the lethal barrier of the nest.

But Gelsomina was not there.

Or at least, he couldn't see her.

The nest was a horrifying expanse of rotting carcasses and skeletons of all shapes and sizes. Bleached skulls—some human, others belonging to unknown creatures—were embedded within the nest’s structure, like trophies from a merciless hunt. Old armor, corroded by rust and shattered by the blows of a stronger predator, lay scattered among the black feathers of the Shyvrakth. Broken swords, dented shields, and chipped daggers hinted at warriors who had gambled against the monster... and lost.

The stench was unbearable.

A miasma of decayed flesh and dried blood, mixed with that acrid, suffocating stench typical of carrion feeders, saturated the air. Every breath was torment, an assault on the senses. Aster had to cover his nose with his still-bleeding hand as his stomach twisted in revulsion.

With his heart pounding, he began digging through the remains, furiously tossing aside filthy feathers and shattered bones.

"Gelsomina!" he called out multiple times, but no response came.

Anxiety slithered into his mind like poison. He knew she was alive... but in what condition? What if she was on the brink of death? What if he couldn’t find her in time? The thought spurred him to search even faster through that wasteland of death.

That was when his fingers touched something unexpected.

Not bones, not feathers, not remnants of battle.

A medallion.

He carefully pulled it out, and what he saw made his blood run cold. It was a talisman with a grotesque shape: a face carved from a dark, glossy material resembling obsidian, with wide, hollow eyes and a mouth stretched into a twisted grin that seemed to waver between mocking and malevolent. Gold inlays adorned its edges, giving it an air of value... and at the same time, a sense of a curse. It seemed to be laughing at him, as if it contained a trapped soul.

Without thinking too much, Aster slipped it into his pocket and turned back to continue his search.