Aria – Eastern Forest
The ground shuddered as the serpent uncoiled, scales glinting black as iron. Its hiss split the air, rattling the very trees.
"Lady Aria—fall back!" Tristan shouted, spear raised, voice strained.
Too late.
The serpent's body crashed forward, scattering knights and horses like toys. Its tail swept through the line, shields shattered, men flung into the underbrush.
Aria leapt from her horse just as its jaws struck, venom sizzling against the soil. Her bow was already in hand, an arrow flying true into the beast's eye. The serpent shrieked, rearing back—but it wasn't enough.
The tail whipped again. This time, it caught her in the side. Pain exploded through her ribs as the impact hurled her across the clearing. She crashed hard, blood filling her mouth.
"Aria!" Tristan's cry cut through the chaos. He looked from her broken form to the serpent looming above, then ripped a black-feathered arrow from his quiver. He struck its tip against a steel plate—sparks erupted, igniting the alchemical powder within.
He drew, fired skyward.
The arrow exploded in midair, a flare of crimson light burning through the canopy. The ancient signal of dire danger.
The serpent's gaze snapped back to Aria. Its coils tore apart the ground as it surged forward, ignoring the Red Knights desperately hacking at its body.
Aria tried to crawl back, every breath a stab of agony. The earth buckled beneath her, roots snapping, stone shattering. Then—with a final crash—the ground gave way.
She fell.
Her scream echoed once, then vanished into the dark ravine below.
"Lady Aria!" Tristan roared, but the serpent's coils slammed down between them, cutting him off.
The chatter around the posh tent fell into uneasy silence when the White Knights stumbled back into camp, battered and bloodied. Armor was cracked, uniforms torn—and most alarming of all, the Crown Prince lay unconscious in their arms.
Theo pushed his way inside, jaw tight.
"What happened?" he snapped.
By the time Liam regained consciousness, the knights had already stammered out the tale of the ambush. Sylphira hovered at her husband's side, her own injuries hastily tended, eyes red with unshed tears.
Liam's voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.
"Something… felt off. The forest has always been dangerous, but… not like this. It was as if the beasts were being driven—pushed at us."
Theo frowned deeply, but before he could respond, the tent's entrance flew open.
Caisson strode in. His very presence seemed to swallow the air, heavy with authority and unspoken judgment. His gaze went immediately to Liam, scanning his son's wounds, then shifted to Theo with a sharp, unyielding weight.
"What is the meaning of this?" the king demanded, his voice like thunder.
"Father…" Liam rasped, trying to sit up, but before he could say more a crimson burst lit the sky.
Theo was already on his feet. He pushed past the tent flaps, eyes narrowing at the glowing signal burning above the forest. His chest tightened.
"It's Aria," he said, his voice like steel.
Without hesitation, Theo turned to his men.
"Alwin! Bring the princess back."
The camp fell silent at the name. Alwin, the North's butler—no, more than that, the king's old war hero and Theo's right hand—stepped forward. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp as drawn blades.
"Yes, Your Highness," he said with a bow.
In one fluid motion, Alwin mounted his horse. With the ease of a veteran who had lived a hundred battles, he kicked off and thundered into the forest, vanishing into the trees before another word could be spoken.
When the signal lit the sky, Abigel felt his chest seize—like he'd forgotten how to breathe. Eastern side. Aria.
"Black Knights, formation—east!" he barked.
They tore through the forest at a sprint. The deeper they went, the heavier the metallic tang of blood became. It was worse than anything Abigel had scented in the North.
Then he saw it.
The serpent towered above the trees, scales glinting with malice, its body thrashing like a living storm. Tristan and the Red Knights fought desperately at its coils. Most were already down, bleeding, broken.
But she wasn't there.
Abigel's heart clenched painfully. Aria… where are you? Rage surged, hot and uncontrollable, and Umbros—his shadow—stirred violently, spilling into the clearing.
"Knights—forward!" Abigel roared, charging in. His blade struck first, slashing across the serpent's face. The beast turned, hissing, distracted long enough for Tristan to stagger back and draw breath.
"Young Duke!" Tristan shouted hoarsely. "Its hide is too strong to pierce!"
Abigel's jaw tightened. He swung again, steel screeching against scale—and failing to bite through. He leaned close, whispering through clenched teeth:
"Umbros—blind him."
Darkness erupted. The serpent reared back, screeching as a veil of shadow wrapped over its eyes. It thrashed wildly, smashing trees in its fury, trying to tear away the suffocating black.
Abigel's aura shuddered violently, swelling like a storm that had slipped its chains. The rule of the tournament was shattered—but that no longer mattered.
Umbros writhed, answering its master's turmoil. The shadows no longer obeyed—they hungered. They spilled across the ground like black fire, stretching toward the serpent, toward the knights, toward anything that breathed.
"Haaahhh… where is she?!" Abigel roared, his voice cracking with fury.
The serpent hissed and thrashed, but his shadows struck first, lashing into its scales, digging deep like a thousand fangs. The beast shrieked, rolling violently, trees snapping like twigs beneath its weight.
But Umbros didn't stop.
The black tide surged higher, crawling up the serpent's body, choking it, seeping into its wounds. And for a moment—it didn't look like Abigel was controlling the shadows at all. It looked as though they were controlling him.
Knights faltered, watching with wide eyes. The air grew cold, heavy, suffocating. Isaac whispered hoarsely:
"If he loses himself now… he'll consume us all."