A final crack of light sliced through the mossy tunnel's ceiling. Dust parted. Wind kissed their skin for the first time in what felt like hours.
And then—
They came out.
The remaining elves and humans took their first step into a forest that no longer felt like home.
Thalanor Frostwood. Once a domain of green tranquility and harmony, now the site of chaos and death.
Birds shrieked overhead and fled. Stags and wild deer jostled for space frantically sprinting between trees. Snarling packs of wolves barreled through the underbrush hotly pursued by haggard, twisted monstrosities corrupted by mana. Trees lay also thrown and ripped apart, their trunks stained black by poison or burned through by uncontrolled elemental blasts.
"By the roots..." said one elder quietly.
The elf elders, promising to survive the mana wave, looked around in stunned horror.
The forest was not only their shelter; it was sacred. Generations of song, ritual, magic, and identity were birthed beneath these trees.
And now it was burning.
Children clung to their mothers. The injured wept in silence. Fear hung in the air like fog.
Lyssari took a hesitant step forward, her eyes following the trail of rising smoke and movement—only to scream as she watched a forest crow, mid-flight, get devoured in a single bite by a winged mana-beast. The predator—twice the size of a lion with talon-tipped wings and a needle-beaked face—turned, its glowing blue eyes locking onto her.
It folded its wings and dove.
She froze.
"Lyssari!" Luenor shouted, shoving her aside and throwing himself atop her.
The winged beast screeched as its claws raked the earth beside them, dirt and roots flying as it just missed its mark.
"Get back!" cried Faren, as he and Arwin rushed forward, weapons drawn.
Arwin raised Faren's borrowed sword high, striking at the creature's wing as Faren launched an arrow into its neck.
The dragon hissed and flared it wings once more, returning to pound the earth.
"Hold it off!" Telmar shouted, as he pushed through the throng of bodies, blade raised high. "We need time!"
He turned, yelling at his warriors. "Find a line! Push them off the ridge! We need to clear a path to the glade in the north!"
The elven warriors were battered and bleeding, yet surged forward to rally under Telmar's call. They began carving a path through the other smaller beasts, holding the front line while non-combatants, aged and young, were gathering in temporary shelter between large clusters of trees.
As the last evacuations made it safely through the tunnel, warriors and adult villagers began to pile stones and roots around the mouth, trying to barricade it shut.
And then -
The roar came.
It was not animal. It was not even, entirely, natural.
It was the sound of raw mana made flesh, reverberating through the bones of every living sparking thing in the clearing.
The elders turned, their faces drained.
"No...," one of the soldiers whispered. "It followed us."
The tunnel detonated, an explosive force erupting from the inside, scattering stone, wood, and bodies in every direction.
The stone beast emerged, its scales blackened as it was now filled with unstable purple mana. Its mouth shone like a fiery hollow of melting magma waiting to blast.
And then it blasted.
A beam of condensed mana streamed out, wider than a tree trunk.
It vaporized lesser monsters in its wake. The winged predator that had stalked Lyssari and Luenor attempted to flee, but was caught midair and obliterated into nothingness, transformed in a vapor of bone, blood and dust.
A shockwave washed over the clearing.
Children collapsed instantly.
Injuries quivered in a heap.
Warriors toppled at nauseating exposure.
Luenor saw himself fall to one knee as darkness crept into his vision. Beside him, Lyssari shook uneasily, and they fell against each other as tears streaked from her face.
He couldn't hear anymore. Just static.
Hera dropped to the ground, shielding the baby in her arms. Arwin was flung back by the blast, his sword tumbling from his grasp. Faren cried out but kept his footing.
It was chaos. Broken. Burning.
And for a moment… the forest fell silent again.
The elves who still stood, blinking away dust and pain, turned toward the smoking crater where the tunnel once stood.
And they asked one silent question—
Is there anything left that can stop it?