The flickering torchlight danced across the broken stone of Valdorne's eastern wall as the people and warriors alike slowly settled from the storm. Though night blanketed the city, the fires of resilience still burned in its people. The Fourth Talon, once fractured and feared, now stood as pillars of hope.
Olga stood atop a balcony of the remaining garrison keep, eyes scanning the horizon. Her expression was firm but weary. She had witnessed enough war to know peace never lasted. Still, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. "We hold for now," she muttered. "But we must prepare for what comes next."
Below, Mira was helping tend to a young boy's splinted leg, her hands steady despite the strain in her muscles. The impromptu captain of the squad wore her mantle well. Each decision she made brought order to chaos, and every command she gave came with the quiet confidence of someone who had earned the squad's trust.
Lyssa sat nearby, organizing herbs and potion vials with quick efficiency. "Captain suits her," she remarked, glancing up at Mira. "She doesn't need the title. She's already carrying the weight."
Tove offered a grunt of agreement as he stood guard near the entryway, his sword sheathed but never far from reach. "She reminds me of what we could have been. Before Rorick."
Father Grent moved among the injured, reciting quiet prayers as he helped the clerics finish their rounds. His tone was soft, but unwavering. "The Goddess grants peace to those who walk in mercy. But even mercy needs defenders."
Dalen stood by the gates, arms crossed, watching as the townsfolk began lighting lanterns across rooftops and courtyards. "I never thought I'd see it," he said. "People smiling again. After everything."
Rynn, standing next to him, cracked his knuckles. "They have a reason now. A real one. That kid... Shin... he's different."
In the city square, Shin and Laverna stood at the center of quiet celebrations. He remained a solemn figure, though his presence inspired strength. His eyes—crimson and gold—reflected the moonlight above as they moved through the crowd.
Children ran up to him with flowers, and though he did not smile, he accepted each one with a nod of gratitude. Laverna walked at his side, still quiet from the events earlier, her fingers never far from his. She kept glancing at him—not out of worry, but reverence.
"You didn't just save them," she whispered. "You gave them something to believe in."
Shin said nothing. His gaze remained distant, but his hand gave hers a soft squeeze in return.
From the rooftops, Mira joined Olga. The two women stood side-by-side, leaders now by necessity more than choice.
"There will be retaliation," Olga said.
"I know," Mira replied. "The Crown won't stay silent after this. Valdorne is just the beginning."
Mayor Edmund approached from below, waving to them. His coat was still dusted with ash, but his posture was proud. "We've started reinforcing the western gates. My son and daughter are working with your healers. Whatever you need, Fourth Talon, you have our full support."
Olga offered a respectful nod. "Then let this be our stand. We protect this city. We make sure they don't suffer again."
Suddenly, a faint chime echoed from the badges worn on Shin and Laverna's necklaces. The Guild Badge pulsed with soft light—its glow unmistakable and urgent, shimmering with embedded magic. Every member of the Hunters Guild throughout the continent received the same message.
A voice rang out, clear and unmistakable.
"This is Guild Master Davis. I repeat—Laginaple has fallen. The Cathedral has been overrun. The skies are red, and the streets are crawling with Falzath. We are in full retreat. Repeat, full retreat! All civilian shelters are compromised. Sorcerers are opening emergency portals to designated safe zones, but we are losing control fast. Any and all available Hunters—drop everything and assist evacuation efforts immediately. Defend the spellcasters. Buy us time. This may be our only chance to save what's left."
Laverna's breath hitched. Shin's jaw tightened.
Just then, a swirl of light erupted in the center of Valdorne's town square. The energy rippled outward, and a portal cracked open like a mirror into chaos. Through it, the terrified cries of citizens and the roaring of monstrous Falzath spilled into Valdorne's peaceful square.
Yuri—the ever-serene receptionist from the Hunters Guild—stepped through first, now clad in full mantle and bearing the insignia of a combat-class Hunter. Arcane tattoos shimmered on her arms as she turned to direct more citizens through.
Behind her, robed sorcerers strained to keep the portal stable. The air around them shimmered with energy. Just beyond the rift, combatants held the line—Hunters battling ferociously to keep the Falzath at bay while protecting the evacuees.
"We're under siege," Yuri called. "But the portal won't hold forever. We need all hands—now!"
Shin turned to Laverna, eyes meeting hers. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't hesitate. "Always. I'll go wherever you go."
He turned toward Mira and Olga. "Protect the refugees. Fortify the square. Laverna and I are going in."
Mira blinked. "Are you sure? We need you here."
"We won't be gone long," Shin said, already stepping toward the portal. "But they need help now."
The moment they crossed the threshold, an icy wind met them, carrying with it a vile, malevolent presence. The scent of brimstone. The sound of thunder in reverse.
And then—
A scream.
The portal flared bright white.
And then, hell revealed itself.
The city of Laginaple lay in utter ruin. Towers once bathed in holy light now stood as twisted silhouettes against a blood-red sky. Flames devoured rooftops while shattered statues of saints and kings crumbled into ash. Thunder roared without rain—just sound and fury.
The streets were rivers of debris and gore. Falzath—those twisted creatures of nightmare—skittered across broken walls and feasted on the dead and dying. Black mist oozed from every crack, tainting the very air, which vibrated with malicious energy. Civilians screamed in every direction, many fleeing with terrified eyes while others fell into despair, unable to move.
Like the wrath of some forgotten god, the chaos spread in waves. The Kingdom's banners were torn, fluttering like warnings across the cracked spires. Holy knights fought tooth and nail against the horde, some corrupted mid-battle, turning on their own.
The Falzath fed on fear and hatred. And they had more than enough.
Laverna summoned her jamadhars and clutched her weapon tightly. Shin stepped forward, eyes locked on the carnage, his aura flaring like a beacon against the darkness.
He looked at the castle as lightning crackled behind it, illuminating the broken skyline with a flash of silver. Shadows danced across his face as he whispered, "What have you done, Tristan?"
The true fight had just begun.