Tonight, an unsettling stillness blankets the streets of Carlin. A chill creeps through the air, clinging to your skin as the party moves cautiously. Every footstep feels amplified, a stark reminder of the silence engulfing the city.

The blue-haired sorceress adjusts her ponytail, light locks swaying with each step. A flash of rich purple fabric peeks from beneath her black robes, a touch of grace against the dark backdrop.

"Leave it to me." The blacksmith strides forward, grip tightening on his hammer. His gaze sweeps over the crowd, scanning for signs of danger. “I’ll get the supplies,” he mutters, voice tense with readiness.

The cleric pulls her robes closer around herself, sharp eyes darting beneath the brim of her hat. “Why are so many people here at this hour?” she whispers, suspicion lacing every word.

Moving through the crowd, snippets of conversation float into keen elven ears:

“They say he came out of nowhere…”

“…all that fire…”

“…the cabbage cult has always been a nuisance…”

Dread tightens its grip, twisting in the pit of your stomach. A quick motion urges your companions to follow, slipping deeper into the depot’s interior to remain inconspicuous while gathering information.

Elizza edges closer to a group of guards, pressing herself against a wall. Her body tenses as she listens, eyes narrowing with every word caught. Moments later, she returns, face pale, eyes wide with shock. “I overheard the guards,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “They’ve been paid to hunt us down. All this time, we thought we were safe in Carlin.”

She bites her lip, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We can’t just let this happen.”

A deep breath steadies your mind. “We need more information,” you say, forcing clarity into your thoughts.

With supplies in hand, Godric returns. His eyes sharpen as Elizza quickly fills him in. “Wild is the King’s dog, then? I can’t believe they’d go this far.” His grip on the hammer tightens, knuckles white with barely contained rage. “We can’t let this slide. But she’s right—we need more information. Let’s make sure your friend is safe, then deal with the guards.”

“Stay sharp.” Elizza nods, voice steady but firm. “If they’re hunting us, we can’t afford mistakes.”

A glance signals the others to follow, and the three of you head toward the hidden guild. Carlin’s winding streets feel like a maze, each shadow and distant sound sharpening the senses. Cobblestones groan beneath your feet, echoing the unease that fills the night.

Only a small, unassuming shop appears where the guild should be. Doubt gnaws at you until Solena’s teachings surface in your mind. Closing your eyes, you focus on the magic within. The illusion fades as your eyes open again, revealing the guild’s true form—a towering spire shimmering with mystical energy, hidden from those without the sight.

“There it is.” Relief mingles with trepidation. Godric and Elizza stare in awe, the guild’s magical nature unveiled before them for the first time. His stoic demeanor cracks for a moment, revealing amazement, while curiosity sparks in her eyes, even amidst the danger.

Tension thickens as you approach the guild’s grand double doors. Slightly ajar, they hint at something ominous beyond. Every nerve in your body goes on high alert, creeping closer.

Through the narrow gap, a figure stands cloaked in shadow over Solena, posture rigid. Their conversation is too quiet to hear, but the tension radiates from his frame. Her eyes lock with yours for a brief, harrowing moment. Her gaze flickers before she quickly masks it, mouthing a single word: **Run.**

A shiver races down your spine. Before you can react, Wild’s voice booms through the chamber. His hand shoots out, and a bolt of lightning blasts from his fingers, crashing into the doors. Wood explodes outward, shards flying as the lightning tears through the space between you and your companions, narrowly missing its mark.

Instinct takes over. You break into a run, heart pounding as adrenaline surges through you.

A sharp, sizzling sound cuts through the night. The first fireball comes into view. Desperation fuels the summoning of your golden shield, just in time to absorb the impact. Flames crash against the barrier, sending ripples of heat and light across its surface. Trembling arms hold firm.

A second fireball hurtles toward the sorceress. She spins on her heel, wand flicking sharply. A shimmering green shield materializes, absorbing the impact with a sharp crack, the flames ricocheting harmlessly into the night sky. Her eyes flash with bemusement as she presses forward.

With a grunt, Godric clenches his fist as another fireball flies toward him. The ring on his finger flares with light, and his skin hardens like stone. The fireball strikes, but the flames fizzle against his rock-like form. Unshaken, he continues forward.

Racing through the streets, the fear of pursuit propels every step. The depot finally comes into sight, its solid stone walls a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Relief is short-lived as Wild appears at the end of the street. His silhouette looms, an ominous omen against the moonlit sky. The world freezes under the piercing glow of his sockets.

A shadow emerges between you and the sinister mage—a knight, his presence so commanding that even Wild halts. Clad in a bull-horned helmet, the knight stands resolute, a massive greatsword resting on his shoulder. Grey-black armor, scarred and battle-worn, tells tales of countless battles. Calm exhales precede the fury about to erupt.

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Across the battlefield, the mage hovers above the ground, dark red robes rippling. His skull gleams in the dim light, scythe crackling with energy. Skulls on his shoulders flicker, whispering secrets only he can hear.

Without warning, the knight moves. His greatsword cleaves the air with startling speed, aiming to cut the wizard down in one blow. Stones fly as the ground beneath him cracks under the force.

Swift precision marks the mage’s response. His scythe parries the blade, the clash echoing through the streets. Shockwaves leave scars in nearby buildings.

“You cannot interfere with the King’s Wrath, Knight Vicious,” Wild snarls.

“I don't intend to hold back,” Vicious growls, spinning to bring the sword around in a wide arc. The wizard phases through the attack, dark energy trailing from his scythe. Magic crackles through the air—sharp, deadly.

A pulse of magic radiates from Wild's raised hand, dark energy swirling into existence. Shadows surge toward the knight, hungry and malevolent.

Steel slices through the magic. “My brother was in the path you scorched!” Vicious roars, his weapon cleaving through the darkness.

“Your brother was an enemy of the kingdom!” The words, cold and venomous, spill from the mage as he summons another torrent of necrotic power.

“Picking cabbages made him an enemy?” Vicious bellows, voice rumbling like a storm. His sword cuts through the spell, dispersing it into harmless wisps.

Wild’s eyes blaze with a furious red light. "I answer to no one. I’ll send you straight to hell." A torrent of dark flames, black as the void, erupts from his fingertips. The air warps with heat as it surges forward.

Unfazed, the knight charges. His iron blade swings through the fire, parting it like a ship slicing through water. Each step sends cracks spider-webbing through the cobblestones.

With relentless force, Vicious’s sword comes down like a hammer. The mage meets it with his scythe, blocking the strike. Thunderous impact shakes the ground, cracks spreading beneath their feet.

“Hell is just the forge. I am the blade it created,” he snarls, defiance ringing in every word.

Wild snarls back, eyes narrowing. A blast of dark lightning erupts at point-blank range, hurling the knight backward. Armor smokes from the corrosive energy, but he grits his teeth and pushes forward, refusing to yield an inch.

A wall of shadowy tendrils writhes into existence, summoned by the mage’s outstretched hand. They lash out, serpentine and sinister, wrapping around the knight’s limbs in a bid to pull him into the abyss.

A roar of rage tears from Vicious’s throat. Muscles bulging with effort, he flexes against the restraints, ripping the tendrils apart. “Finally,” he growls, voice thick with primal fury, “I don’t have to hold back.”

One powerful swing shatters the tendrils, cleaving through them as though they’re nothing more than mist. Across the battlefield, Wild watches with a twisted grin, eyes glowing ever brighter as he prepares his next move.

Frost seeps into the air. The ground beneath them erupts with jagged blue spikes, frozen energy shooting upward to impale the knight.

Vicious leaps, sword raised high, descending upon his foe like a crashing meteor. Sparks fly as his blade meets Wild's scythe, an explosion of energy rippling through the air. The depot's foundation trembles, cracks widening as they clash in a brutal dance of steel and shadow.

"You'll need more than that to bring me down." His growl resonates through the streets as he blocks another strike, his armor glinting in the dim light.

A manic gleam flashes in Wild’s eyes. "More?" he echoes, voice dripping with malevolent joy. With a sweeping motion, he unleashes a wave of dark flames, the inferno roaring toward the knight like a devouring beast.

Charging forward, Vicious swings his greatsword through the flames. Armor glows white-hot from the heat, sweat pouring down his face, but his resolve remains unbroken. With one final, mighty effort, he raises his sword high.

Wild’s scythe crackles with dark energy as he prepares to meet the strike. The titans collide like a storm, and for a moment, time itself seems to hold its breath.

Silence descends. Dust settles around the ruins where they stand, weapons locked in a final, desperate struggle. Vicious’s armor cracks, smoke rising from his battered form. Yet his grip on the greatsword is ironclad, unyielding.

A flicker of respect crosses the undead mage's eyes before the grin returns. "Let’s see who breaks first."

With a flourish, Wild steps back, tracing a burning symbol in the air. The symbol flares to life, molten red glowing brighter as the temperature spikes. In an instant, the Order of Crimson materializes—six mages, their ruby robes blending seamlessly into the dancing flames.

From their outstretched hands, fire twists into chains that shoot toward the knight, wrapping around him with searing force. Muscles strain as he fights against the burning binds, grunting with effort.

“You’re strong,” Wild remarks, amusement darkening his tone. “But strength alone cannot save you.”

With an elegant, deadly motion, the mage raises his scythe high. The blade hums with power as he swings it down, a violet curse crackling through the air toward the knight. A shudder runs through Vicious as the curse takes hold, his breath hitching.

Skin pales; eyes cloud with an eerie glow. The transformation is sudden and violent—armor rattling as his body contorts under the spell.

"No..." A low, guttural growl escapes him. With every ounce of his will, he fights back, trembling with effort.

Wild's expression falters, disbelief darkening his eyes. "Impossible..."

Rage fills the knight's eyes as he tears one fiery chain from his body. Shockwaves burst outward with the force of his defiance. Another chain snaps, the air thickening around him.

In the chaos, a hooded mage staggers backward. Crimson hair spills from beneath her hood, emerald eyes wide with terror as Vicious turns his blazing gaze upon her.

Recognition slams into you like a wave. Solena.

Frozen in place, the clash between Vicious and Wild unfolds before you. The world around you falls deathly silent, as if time itself has paused to witness the confrontation.

Heart pounding, the sight of Solena standing among Wild's cursed mages shocks you back into action. Questions flood your mind—How is she here? Why is she with them? There’s no time for answers.

A single heartbeat passes. Vicious raises his sword, fury blazing in his eyes, ready to bring it down upon her.

“No. Not her!” The words spill out, driven by pure instinct. Arms outstretched, you leap forward. Panic and resolve surge in tandem, summoning the golden shield that has saved you countless times.

“Stop!” The cry is desperate, raw, as the shield bursts into existence—a thin, radiant barrier between Vicious’s sword and Solena.

The impact shatters the shield like fragile glass, a shockwave crashing through you. Darkness engulfs your vision, and in that fleeting moment, the world slips away.

Silence follows, cold and all-consuming.

“So, Erazon,” a voice resonates, echoing through the void. Cold and timeless. "This is how you meet your untimely doom."

Blinking against the disorientation, the scene shifts. No longer in the chaotic streets, you now sit in a grand, eerie chamber. Shadows twist and coil along the walls, and a massive mirror looms ahead, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Within it, the battle you just witnessed plays on a continuous loop—your final, desperate act.

Seated across from you, Lord Death watches, his skeletal visage both terrifying and serene. Bony fingers tap lightly on the armrest of his dark throne. Hollow eyes bore into you, assessing.

A chilling stillness fills the air before he finally speaks, his voice echoing through the darkness. "Now, we begin again."