Paola crouched low behind the remains of a stone outcropping, the rough texture of the sandstone biting into her feet as she steadied her breathing. The chaos of the battlefield swirled around her, a cacophony of magic, steel, and blood. Her heart raced, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. The wind whipped through the Sand Pass, carrying the scent of smoke, sweat, and fear. For a moment, she closed her eyes, trying to drown out the noise, trying to focus.

She had teleported away from the thick of the fighting, her muscles screaming in protest from the rapid teleportation she had just used to evade a group of Jade Tier warriors. The battlefield had exploded in chaos, with the Quartz and Jade Tier warriors and magists creating a nearly impenetrable wall of bodies. But none of that compared to the Obsidian Tier magist who had stepped into the fray, drawing everyone's attention like a black hole. Ayla had tensed immediately, her body language sharp and alert, but Yasmin...

Yasmin wasn’t worried. She had laughed.

And then Paola had watched, half-stunned, as the rogue Obsidian magist underestimated Yasmin. He had thrown lazy attacks her way, his arrogance showing in the way he barely even put up a shield. Paola could only blink in awe as Yasmin dodged the attacks with a grin on her face, almost playing with the magist as she closed the distance between them. The moment she had breached his weak barrier, Yasmin had grabbed the magist by his collar, her fiery butterfly wings glowing like embers in the wind, and detonated a Boom Blossom at point-blank range.

The explosion had been deafening, a bloom of fire and thunder expanding outward, disintegrating the magist and leaving a smoking crater where he had stood. For a heartbeat, the entire battlefield seemed to pause, watching as Yasmin hovered in the air, still grinning like a cat who had just caught a particularly amusing mouse.

And then everything erupted again.

Paola snapped back to the present, her feline eyes narrowing as she scanned the battlefield. She couldn’t afford to get distracted. Yasmin’s display of power had shaken the enemy, but there was still so much left to do. The caravan. The hostages.

She teleported again, Shadow Pouncing through the battlefield, her rapid movements allowing her to dart between the enemies. Her claws flicked out instinctively, bone and blade becoming one as she sliced through a Quartz Tier magist who had the misfortune of stepping into her path. He fell without a sound, his eyes wide in shock as Paola moved on, her body a blur of shadow and steel.

The hostages. She had to find them.

She crouched low behind another cluster of rocks, her eyes scanning the carnage. Ayla was in the thick of it, her massive broadsword cleaving through enemies with a brutal efficiency. Flames trailed in the wake of her blade, setting the sand ablaze as she activated Flame’s Cross, sending a burning cross-shaped explosion through a group of warriors. Her movements were precise, but Paola could see the wear and tear on her body. The fight was taking its toll.

Two giant beasts—hulking, bipedal creatures with stone-like skin and massive claws—charged Ayla, their roars shaking the very ground. They were bonded to two Jade Tier beast tamers, who stood at the edge of the battlefield, directing the creatures toward Ayla.

Paola’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Ayla brace herself, her Frost Step activating as she glided across the sand, freezing the ground beneath her and slowing the beasts’ approach. But even with her skill, the beasts were relentless. One of them slammed its massive fist into the ground, sending a shockwave through the sand that knocked Ayla off balance for a moment.

“No,” Paola whispered under her breath, her heart racing. She wanted to help Ayla, but she had to stay focused. The hostages. That’s what they were here for.

She teleported again, slipping between enemy lines, her Phase Slash carving through another Jade Tier warrior as she moved. Blood sprayed across the sand as Paola made her way toward the center of the caravan. She could see the hostages now—merchants, drivers, and civilians huddled together, their hands bound, their faces pale with fear.

Paola’s mind raced. She had to protect them, but with all the destruction, she couldn’t help but wonder—was there even anything left to recover? The caravan had been carrying something valuable, something important, but what could have survived this? The bandits had torn through the area, their greed evident in the way they had ravaged the wagons, searching for whatever treasure they believed was hidden there.

Paola’s eyes darted across the battlefield. The wagons were in ruins, the contents scattered across the sand. She could see pieces of metal, crates shattered and broken, but nothing that looked like the prize they were supposed to retrieve. Had it already been taken? Or had it been destroyed in the chaos?

She didn’t have time to dwell on it. One of the bandits spotted her, a Jade Tier warrior with a spear, and charged. Paola’s muscles tensed, and she teleported again, appearing behind him in a blur of motion. Her claws flashed out, catching him across the back before he even had a chance to turn. He collapsed to the ground, and Paola continued forward, her eyes locked on the hostages.

“Get them out of here,” she muttered to herself. “That’s the mission. Get them out.”

As she reached the group of hostages, she saw their terror-stricken faces, their eyes wide with fear. Paola crouched beside them, using her claws to cut through the ropes that bound their hands. “Go,” she urged them, her voice low but firm. “Run. Get out of here while you can.”

One of the merchants, a middle-aged man with a bloodied face, looked at her with desperation in his eyes. “There’s… there’s something they’re after,” he stammered. “Something in the last wagon. They won’t stop until they recover it.”

Paola’s heart sank. She had feared as much. Whatever the bandits were after, it was still here. But where? The last wagon? She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the wreckage. The last wagon was barely standing, its sides splintered, but there was a large, heavy chest still intact inside.

“Go,” Paola said again, more urgently this time. “I’ll take care of it.”

The hostages scrambled to their feet, running as fast as they could toward the cover of the nearby rocks. Paola watched them for a brief moment, relief flooding through her as she saw them escape, but she knew it wasn’t over yet.

She turned her attention back to the battlefield. Ayla was still fighting the two giant beasts, her body moving with a deadly grace as she parried their attacks. Her Flame’s Wrath ignited the surrounding enemies, setting them ablaze, but Paola could see that Ayla was taking heavy damage. Blood dripped from a wound on her shoulder, and her movements were slower than before.

Paola’s heart twisted in her chest, but she knew Ayla would hold her own. She always did.

In the distance, Yasmin was wreaking havoc. She floated above the battlefield, her hands crackling with energy as she unleashed Thunder Pyre, a rotating storm of fire and thunder that engulfed her enemies. The bandits scrambled to avoid her, but there was no escaping Yasmin. Her magic was like a force of nature, uncontrollable and devastating. She laughed, her voice carrying over the battlefield as she cast another spell, a fiery whirlwind of embers and sparks that sent the bandits flying.

“Poca!” Yasmin shouted, her voice light and teasing even in the midst of the chaos. “A little more mana, please? I’m starting to feel like a dried-up well here!”

Poca, who had kept her distance from the thick of the fighting, stood off to the side, her stitched lips curving into a wry smile. “Oh, mon dieu, Yasmin! You use up mana faster than I can heal ze wounded! Do you ‘ave no restraint?”

Yasmin cackled, her amber eyes flashing. “Restraint? What’s that?”

Paola shook her head, half-amused, half-stunned by Yasmin’s ability to joke in the middle of such a deadly battle. Even Ayla, who was still locked in combat with the giant beasts, spared a glance at Yasmin, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Unbelievable,” Ayla muttered under her breath before parrying another strike from one of the beasts.

Paola didn’t have time to dwell on it. She teleported again, moving toward the last wagon where the chest lay hidden. She reached it in seconds, her heart racing as she pulled open the lid. Inside, wrapped in layers of protective cloth, was a strange, glowing artifact—a small, intricately carved orb that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly light.

“So this is what they’re after,” Paola whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing as she carefully lifted the orb from the chest. It was heavier than she expected, and as soon as she touched it, she felt a surge of energy course through her, like a jolt of electricity running up her spine.

But she didn’t have time to examine it further. A shadow loomed over her, and Paola barely had time to react as a massive, snake-like beast lunged toward her, its fangs bared and dripping with venom. She teleported just in time, Shadow Pouncing away from the creature as it crashed into the wagon, shattering the wood into splinters.

Paola barely managed to teleport out of the way, the sudden surge of the chaotic beast and its tamer nearly catching her off guard as it they out, scorching the ground where she had just stood. She landed a few meters away, crouched low, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes narrowed, locking onto the woman who had just attacked her.

The Beast Tamer stood tall and poised, her body a study in lethal elegance. She was strikingly beautiful, but in a way that set Paola on edge—dangerous, predatory. Her long, sleek black hair fell down her back in waves, partially obscuring the intricate tattoos that snaked across her bronze skin. Each symbol seemed to pulse faintly with energy, some glowing with the deep green of nature magic, others shimmering with the same dark violet hue as the snake she commanded. Her eyes, the same vivid violet/amber as her magic, glowed faintly in the dim light of the battlefield. She wore tight, form-fitting armor that left little to the imagination, every curve of her body accentuated by the dark leather and metal that hugged her frame. The armor was adorned with small spikes and scales, echoing the reptilian nature of her companion beast, the massive snake that coiled protectively around her.

Paola’s breath caught for a moment. The Beast Tamer was undeniably beautiful, but it was the kind of beauty that came with a razor’s edge. She exuded confidence, the kind of arrogance that came from knowing you were dangerous—and loving it.

The woman’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if sensing Paola’s discomfort. She lifted a hand, her fingers trailing through the air in a lazy, almost seductive gesture, as the snake coiled tighter around her. Its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, its eyes locked on Paola with an unsettling hunger.

“Scared, little kitty?” the Beast Tamer purred, her voice low and sultry, carrying just the faintest trace of mockery. “You should be.”

Paola gritted her teeth, teleporting again as another lash of chaotic energy surged toward her. The Tamer wasn’t just powerful—she was fast, and her attacks were precise. Every movement was calculated, designed to keep Paola on the defensive. But Paola had fought too many battles to let herself be intimidated, even by someone like this.

The Tamer's snake struck again, its massive body moving with a deadly grace as it lashed out toward Paola, venom dripping from its fangs. Paola barely dodged, her agility allowing her to slip just out of reach, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up for long. She needed a plan, and fast.

Before Paola could make her next move, she sensed movement to her left. Two figures stepped forward from the chaos of the battlefield, joining the Beast Tamer’s side. One was a tall, statuesque woman with dark red hair pulled into a tight braid, her eyes glowing a deep, fiery red—the telltale sign of a fire affinity magist. She carried herself with an almost regal grace, her robes billowing around her as flames licked at her fingertips. Her expression was calm, almost serene, but there was an intensity in her eyes that made it clear she was ready to unleash hell at a moment’s notice.

The other was a man, shorter but muscular, with a shaved head and a dark beard. His eyes glowed with a rich, stormy blue, and electricity crackled around his hands. His demeanor was more aggressive, his lips curled into a sneer as he sized up Paola. The air around him hummed with barely contained energy, the tension evident.

The Beast Tamer glanced at her two companions, her smile widening as she addressed Paola again. “You didn’t think I’d face you alone, did you?” She stepped forward, her hand resting on her snake’s scaled head. “Meet my friends. Let’s see how long you last against the three of us.”

Paola's heart raced, her mind calculating. The three of them—two Obsidian Tier magists and the Beast Tamer—formed a formidable trio, each one exuding raw power. She couldn’t take them on alone, and she knew it.

Before she could react, a deafening roar split the air, followed by the sound of earth-shaking footsteps. Paola’s eyes darted to the side just in time to see one of the hulking beasts Ayla had been fighting suddenly go berserk. Ayla had just managed to take down its tamer, and without its handler’s control, the beast descended into blind, territorial rage. Its eyes locked onto another of its kind—a second giant, equally massive and brutal.

The two beasts charged at each other, their roars shaking the very ground. Claws tore through flesh, teeth sank into thick, stone-like skin, and the beasts grappled with each other in a savage display of raw power. Anything in their path was obliterated, including the remaining beast tamer, who was crushed underfoot in the chaos.

Paola saw her opportunity. With the beasts distracted, Ayla was free to join her. Ayla’s broadsword gleamed with the glow of both flame and frost as she charged toward Paola’s side, her face set in grim determination. Blood dripped from her wounds, but she moved with the same relentless strength that Paola had come to admire in her.

Ayla skidded to a halt beside Paola, her breathing heavy but controlled. She glanced at the trio of enemies standing before them and muttered under her breath, “We’ve got a problem.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Paola replied, her claws flexing as she prepared for the inevitable clash.

From above, Yasmin’s laughter echoed through the battlefield as she hovered in the air, her fiery butterfly wings flaring out behind her. “Oh, this is going to be fun!” she called out, her voice filled with a manic energy. She swooped down, her hands already glowing with a fierce combination of fire and thunder.

“Finally decided to join us?” Paola quipped, not taking her eyes off the trio of enemies.

Yasmin landed gracefully beside them, her eyes glowing with a vibrant amber light. “I couldn’t let you two have all the fun,” she said with a grin, her fingers crackling with energy.

The Beast Tamer’s smile faded, her expression hardening as she assessed the situation. “It doesn’t matter,” she hissed. “You’re all going to die here.”

The three enemies launched their attacks simultaneously. The fire magist sent a wall of flame surging toward them, while the male lightning magist unleashed a torrent of crackling energy. At the same time, the Beast Tamer’s snake lunged forward again, its fangs glistening with venom.

Paola teleported out of the way, narrowly avoiding the flame and lightning as they collided where she had just stood. The ground erupted in a shower of sparks and embers, the force of the explosion sending her stumbling. She reappeared behind the fire magist, her claws flashing out in a Phase Slash that left deep, bleeding gashes across the woman’s back.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

But the fire magist was quick. She whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury as she conjured a fiery vortex around herself, forcing Paola to back off. The heat was intense, and Paola could feel her skin burning just being near it.

Ayla, meanwhile, charged at the lightning magist, her broadsword gleaming with both ice and fire as she slashed at him. He dodged her first strike, but Ayla’s Frost Step allowed her to move swiftly, freezing the ground beneath his feet and causing him to stumble. She took advantage of the opening, bringing her sword down in a brutal arc. The man barely had time to raise a shield, but the force of Ayla’s strike shattered it, sending him sprawling to the ground.

But even as he fell, he sent a bolt of lightning lancing toward Ayla. It struck her in the chest, sending her skidding backward, her body convulsing as the electricity coursed through her. Paola’s heart clenched in fear, but Ayla gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain, forcing herself back to her feet.

Yasmin, as usual, was in her element. She darted through the air, her wings leaving trails of fire and sparks in her wake as she unleashed Boom Blossom after Boom Blossom. Each explosion rocked the battlefield, sending shockwaves through the enemy ranks.

“Oh, come on!” Yasmin shouted gleefully as she dodged another attack from the lightning magist. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Despite her bravado, even Yasmin was starting to feel the strain. Poca, standing a good distance away, was working furiously to keep everyone healed, but the constant barrage of attacks was taking its toll. Her glowing hands moved frantically, casting healing spells toward Ayla, Paola, and Yasmin, but even Poca’s usually cheerful demeanor was strained.

“Yasmin, you ‘ave got to stop getting ‘it so much!” Poca called out, her voice tinged with frustration. “I am running out of ze mana to ‘eal you!”

Yasmin cackled in response. “Can’t help it, love! I’m just too good at attracting attention.”

The fight raged on, each side taking heavy damage. Paola’s body ached from the cuts and burns she had sustained, and even her rapid teleportation was becoming sluggish. Ayla was bleeding heavily, her movements slower as she struggled to fend off the lightning magist. Yasmin, while still full of energy, was clearly pushing herself to the limit, her spells growing more erratic with each cast.

The Beast Tamer, meanwhile, had not let up. Her snake coiled and struck with relentless precision, its fangs just missing Paola each time. The Tamer herself was no less dangerous, weaving spells that kept Paola on the defensive.

Then, just as Paola felt herself faltering, the Beast Tamer’s eyes flashed with dark energy, and she raised her hands, summoning a massive surge of power. The air around her crackled with chaos, and Paola’s instincts screamed at her to move.

But she was too slow. The Beast Tamer unleashed a devastating wave of magic, and Paola felt herself being dragged into it, the energy wrapping around her like a vice. She struggled to break free, her claws slashing at the invisible bonds, but it was no use. The magic was too strong.

The Beast Tamer smirked, her violet eyes gleaming with triumph as she prepared to finish Paola off. “Goodbye, little kitten,” she whispered.

Just as the final blow was about to land, a blur of motion appeared behind the Beast Tamer. A figure moved with inhuman speed, its limbs twisting and striking with the precision of a martial artist. Paola barely had time to process what was happening before she realized who it was.

Carter.

Carter moved like a predator unleashed. His wooden frame, newly enhanced and bristling with hidden blades, flowed with a terrifying grace. His strikes came fast and brutal, more fluid than Paola had ever seen. The Beast Tamer—a striking woman with eyes as sharp and dangerous as the snake she commanded—barely had time to react. Her long, leather-clad legs tensed, trying to evade, but Carter was relentless.

His fists crashed into her ribs with the force of a hammer, and the sound of wood colliding with bone echoed through the air. A sickening crack followed as the Tamer doubled over in pain, her breath knocked from her lungs. Before she could recover, Carter spun low, sweeping her legs out from under her with brutal precision. She hit the ground hard, dust kicking up as her body skidded across the dirt.

Paola blinked in disbelief. “Carter?”

The puppet didn’t answer, his expression carved into that eternal, eerie grin. But the way he stood over the fallen Beast Tamer, his body angled protectively between Paola and the danger, spoke volumes. His wooden fingers flexed, blades glinting menacingly as he prepared to strike again.

The Tamer, gasping for air, clawed at the ground to pull herself up. Her once-dangerous allure had crumbled into a wild, desperate look as she tried to summon her magic. Her snake—massive, coiled, and waiting—hissed, preparing to strike in defense of its master. But Paola moved faster.

Teleporting in a blur of shadow, Paola reappeared directly in front of the Beast Tamer. Her bone claws gleamed in the dim light, her body low and poised for the kill. The Tamer’s red eyes flashed with fear as Paola's claws slashed across her chest, tearing through flesh with ease. Blood sprayed in an arc, the force of Paola’s Chaos Strike enhanced by the chaotic energy coursing through her veins.

The chaos magic exploded on contact, sending tendrils of fire and lightning crackling through the Tamer’s body. Her scream was strangled, her limbs jerking as the energy ravaged her. The snake beside her lunged, but Carter was there, intercepting the beast with a deadly precision, his blades slicing through the serpent’s scales as though they were nothing.

Paola didn’t hesitate. She locked eyes with the Tamer, her feline-like pupils narrowing as she delivered the final blow. Her claws plunged deep into the woman’s chest, chaos energy flaring wildly as it tore through her heart. The Tamer’s eyes widened in shock, her breath coming out in a ragged, final gasp. Blood bubbled at her lips, and for a brief moment, she seemed to reach for something—perhaps her magic, perhaps salvation—but it was too late.

With a violent spasm, her body went limp, collapsing into the dust. The once-dangerous beauty of the Beast Tamer was reduced to a lifeless shell, her magic snuffed out like a dying ember.

Paola stood over her, chest heaving, her claws dripping with blood and chaos energy still flickering at her fingertips. The battlefield fell eerily silent, the only sound the crackle of distant flames and the faint, rhythmic hum of Carter’s joints as he turned toward Paola once more.

She looked at him—this puppet that had saved her—and for the first time, saw not just a puppet, but a protector. His head tilted slightly, his unsettling grin still fixed in place, but there was a strange sense of camaraderie in the gesture. Carter had been there when she needed him most, and in this chaotic world, that was enough.

As Paola recovered from her encounter with the Beast Tamer, Ayla and Yasmin were already moving in on the last two Obsidian Tier magists. The battlefield around them crackled with lingering energy, the air thick with smoke and the scent of burning flesh. Despite their wounds, both women moved with grim determination, their eyes locked on their opponents.

The fire magist stood tall, her deep red eyes blazing with fury, the flames at her fingertips dancing with lethal precision. Her companion, the lightning magist, scowled, his stormy blue eyes crackling with barely contained rage. Together, they formed a formidable duo, their combined elements wreaking havoc across the battlefield.

But Ayla and Yasmin were relentless.

Ayla charged forward, her broadsword gleaming in the dim light as both fire and ice surged along the blade’s length. Her braids whipped behind her as she moved, her muscles straining with every step. She swung the sword in a wide arc, the ground freezing beneath her feet as her Frost Step took her closer to the lightning magist. Her Flame’s Cross ignited the air around her, creating a burning cross-shaped slash that tore toward him.

The lightning magist was quick, raising his hand to summon a barrier of crackling energy. The blue lightning arced across his fingertips, forming a protective shield that met Ayla’s fiery attack with a deafening crack. The explosion sent a shockwave through the air, forcing both combatants to slide backward, their feet digging into the ground for balance.

Ayla gritted her teeth, refusing to let up. Her broadsword flared again, the flames intensifying as she summoned the full force of her Flame’s Wrath. She could feel the heat burning against her skin, but it didn’t matter. She pressed forward, her eyes narrowing as she swung the sword down with all her strength.

The blade crashed against the lightning magist’s shield again, but this time, the force was too much. The fiery explosion from Flame’s Wrath shattered the barrier, sending shards of crackling energy flying in all directions. The lightning magist let out a grunt of pain as he was forced to stagger back, the remnants of his shield flickering and dying out.

Ayla didn’t give him a chance to recover. Her Frost Step kicked in again, the ground freezing beneath her as she closed the distance. With a sharp twist of her body, she brought her broadsword down in a brutal overhead strike. The blade cut through the air, crackling with both fire and ice as it connected with the magist’s chest.

He screamed, the ice biting deep into his flesh while the fire seared him from the inside out. His body convulsed, blue lightning sparking wildly from his fingertips as he tried to summon one last attack. But Ayla’s strike was too powerful. The combined elements of fire and ice overwhelmed him, and with a final, agonizing cry, he collapsed to the ground, his body smoking as the flames consumed him.

Ayla staggered back, her breathing labored, but there was no time to rest. Her eyes flicked to Yasmin, who was already engaged with the fire magist.

Yasmin was in her element, her body practically vibrating with chaotic energy as she darted around the battlefield. Her fiery butterfly wings flared behind her, leaving trails of sparks in her wake as she dodged the fire magist’s attacks with ease. Flames erupted all around her, but Yasmin moved like a dancer, weaving through the inferno with a wild grin on her face.

“Come on!” Yasmin taunted, her amber eyes gleaming. “Is that all you’ve got?”

The fire magist snarled, her hands glowing with an intense heat as she summoned a massive fireball. The orb of flame crackled with power, growing larger and larger as the magist fed it more energy. With a shout of fury, she hurled it toward Yasmin, the blazing sphere hurtling through the air like a meteor.

Yasmin didn’t flinch. Instead, she grinned wider.

With a flick of her wrist, Yasmin unleashed her Thunder Pyre, a swirling storm of fire and thunder that encased her in a protective whirlwind. The fireball collided with the storm, but instead of destroying Yasmin, it was absorbed into the fiery vortex. The flames mixed with the thunder, creating a brilliant display of light and sound as the two elements clashed.

For a moment, the fire magist faltered, clearly surprised that her attack had been neutralized so easily. Yasmin didn’t waste the opportunity.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Yasmin said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

She raised both hands, channeling the chaotic energy that surged through her veins. Her wings flared behind her, glowing with a vibrant, fiery light as she summoned her most devastating attack. The air around her crackled with raw power, the ground trembling as she drew in more and more energy.

The fire magist’s eyes widened, realizing too late what was happening.

With a wicked laugh, Yasmin unleashed Inferno Nova.

The explosion was blinding. A massive wave of fire and thunder radiated out from Yasmin’s position, consuming everything in its path. The fire magist didn’t even have time to scream before she was engulfed by the fiery inferno. The ground shook violently, the sheer force of the explosion sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Flames erupted into the sky, casting an eerie glow over the scene as the inferno raged.

Ayla watched in awe as the fire magist was completely incinerated, her body disintegrating in the intense heat. The flames licked at the sky for a moment longer before slowly dying out, leaving nothing but charred earth and ash in their wake.

Yasmin floated down to the ground, her wings flickering out as she landed gracefully beside Ayla. She was breathing hard, sweat dripping down her face, but there was a satisfied grin on her lips.

“That,” Yasmin said, her voice still breathless but filled with glee, “is how you make an exit.”

Ayla shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion.

The battlefield around them was eerily quiet now, the last remnants of the enemy forces either dead or fleeing. Ayla and Yasmin stood side by side, both battered and bloodied, but victorious. As they looked out over the battlefield, the flames from Yasmin’s Inferno Nova still smoldering in the distance, Ayla let out a slow breath. The fight had been brutal, and they had taken heavy damage, but they had survived.

As the dust settled and the last of their enemies fell, Paola collapsed to her knees, her body trembling with exhaustion. Ayla limped over to her, her own body battered and bloodied, but still standing. Yasmin floated along beside them, her wings flickering as the last of her energy seemingly never faded.

“Well,” Yasmin said, her voice breathless but still full of humor. “That was fun.”

Paola couldn’t help but laugh, though it hurt. “You’re insane.”

Yasmin grinned, her amber eyes twinkling. “Takes one to know one.”

Poca hurried over, her hands glowing as she worked to heal them, her face flushed with relief. “You all are insane! Zat was too close.”

Carter stood nearby, his wooden frame still and silent once more, but Paola could have sworn there was something almost proud in the way he held himself.

Yasmin let out a dramatic sigh as she surveyed the battlefield, her wings flickering as she hovered just above the ground. “You know,” she said, voice tinged with exasperation, “the real battle’s about to begin. Do you have any idea how much paperwork this is going to require? The Arcane Forge is going to love this report.”

Paola blinked at her, ears twitching in disbelief as she tried, once again, to understand what was going on in Yasmin’s head. After all the chaos, the bloodshed, the victory they had barely scraped by, Yasmin was worrying about paperwork? Paola just shook her head, too tired to even respond. Her knees were buried in the sand, her body aching with exhaustion. She didn’t bother to get up. She could feel the burn of the sand against her bare skin, but she didn’t care. None of it mattered—except for one thing: they did it. They actually did it.

For once, that hollow, empty feeling she had come to expect after each battle wasn’t there. Yes, she had killed. But seeing the relief in the faces of the hostages, knowing that her actions had saved lives instead of simply ending them—it filled her with a sense of purpose, one that had been missing for so long.

She exhaled deeply and let herself fall back into the sand, staring up at the sky. It was a rare moment of peace after the storm. The one cloud floating lazily by in the vast, blue sky felt like the perfect contrast to the chaos they had just survived. She could feel Poca’s healing magic working through her body, the familiar sensation of her strings knitting her wounds back together. It was comforting, like the gentle touch of a loved one. Poca’s voice drifted into her ears, soft but urgent.

“There’s another group of hostages,” Poca was saying, her accent thick with exhaustion. “Some adventurers… badly wounded. Zey need ‘elp, and one of zem is barely alive.”

Paola groaned, not ready to move but knowing she had to. She forced herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her. Her entire body ached, every muscle protesting as she stood. She was tired, so damn tired, but there was still work to do. She grumbled under her breath as she stumbled after Poca.

Just in case...

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess as she followed behind Poca. Everything felt like a blur—victory, exhaustion, relief—but something pulled her out of her daze when she noticed Poca suddenly freeze in her tracks. Paola nearly bumped into her, barely managing to stop in time. Concerned, she looked at Poca, whose face was a mixture of disbelief and something close to fear.

“Poca? What’s wrong?” Paola asked, but Poca didn’t respond. She just stood there, staring ahead.

Paola followed Poca’s gaze, her eyes landing on the group of adventurers in the distance. At first, she saw only a man, barely clinging to life. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair and beard were matted with blood and dirt, his body battered beyond recognition. One eye was swollen shut, and he was missing a leg. He was clearly in a bad state, but that wasn’t what had caused Poca’s reaction.

It was the figure lying next to him.

Paola’s breath caught in her throat.

Selene.

The demon woman lay in the dirt, her once proud, powerful figure now reduced to a broken shell. Her usually flawless grey skin was stained with crimson, open cuts running across her body. Her white hair, normally pristine, was darkened with blood from a wound on her head. Her lip was cut open, and her chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths.

Paola blinked, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing. “Selene…?”

The name slipped from her lips in disbelief. She hadn’t seen Selene in what felt like an eternity. The last time had been a chaotic, unresolved parting, leaving behind more questions than answers. Now, seeing her like this—beaten, vulnerable, barely alive—it shook Paola.

Poca still hadn’t moved. Her expression remained frozen in shock, her green and purple eyes wide with disbelief. Paola could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. She didn’t know what had happened to Selene, why she was here, or how she had ended up like this. All she knew was that the sight of her—this powerful demon, brought so low—sent a wave of emotions crashing over her.

Paola’s heart raced as she moved closer, her feet carrying her toward Selene almost against her will. “Selene…” she whispered again, her voice barely audible. She knelt beside the demon woman, her hands trembling as they hovered over her bloodied body, unsure of what to do.

Poca finally seemed to snap out of her daze, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Paola… zis is… I don’t understand…”

Neither did Paola. Her mind was spinning, her thoughts a tangled mess. Selene had been in her life for such a short period, but made a last impact in her actions. And now, seeing her like this—broken, beaten—it made Paola feel like the ground had shifted beneath her.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Selene’s cold skin, a strange mix of concern and confusion tightening in her chest. Paola had been through so much in this world—fighting, surviving, killing—but this? Seeing someone so powerful reduced to this fragile state, made everything feel different.

“Poca, help her,” Paola said, her voice firmer now. “We can’t leave her like this.”

Poca nodded, though she still looked shaken. She knelt beside Paola, her healing magic already swirling around her fingers. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Paola as if seeking reassurance before she began her work. Strings of light extended from her hands, reaching toward Selene, wrapping around her wounds, mending her torn flesh. Poca’s hands glowed as she poured everything she had into healing the demon woman.

Paola stayed by Selene’s side, watching as the blood slowly stopped flowing, as the cuts began to close. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Selene’s face—her closed eyes, her still form, the faint rise and fall of her chest.

As Poca continued to heal Selene, Paola’s thoughts raced. She wondered what had happened to Selene, how she had ended up here, and whether she would survive. But even more than that, she had a feeling this was because of her. Because of the letter she left with her.

And yet, there was no time for answers now. There was only survival.