Meanwhile, in the tower
Icarus stood at the window, gaze fixed on the distant forest. His thoughts were elsewhere, heavy, restless.
Then—suddenly—his chest tightened. A sharp pull seized his heart, dizzying him for a moment. He pressed a hand against it, his breath shallow.
"…Aria," he whispered.
He closed his eyes, jaw tight. "If I interfere with fate again…"
"At the end, you always do," a dry voice cut in.
Vireth, the raven, tilted his head from where he perched atop an open book. His beady eyes glinted with knowing mischief.
A small smile curved Icarus's lips. He reached into a drawer, pulling out a blueberry and offering it absentmindedly. "You're far too brilliant."
The raven clicked his beak, taking it greedily. "Master, you already know everything. Just trust the process."
Icarus gave a quiet laugh, though it carried no mirth. "Now you're encouraging me to defy the gods themselves."
"Did you ever listen to them to begin with?" Vireth countered, wings spreading in a lazy flap.
For a long moment, silence. Then Icarus sighed, shaking his head in resignation.
"…Fine, then. Convert."
With a shimmer of power, the raven's form shifted, feathers collapsing inward until the creature was no more than a slender, obsidian staff resting at Icarus's hand.
The serpent writhed against Umbros' bindings, but Abigel no longer saw it. His vision swam with black, his body trembling as the shadows grew wild, untamed. His sword arm shook.
She's gone.
They took her.
The whispers slid into his ears, cold and eager.
Let go… we'll find her. We'll take everything back. We'll consume them all.
"Shut up—!" Abigel snarled, pressing harder, but the shadows only tightened around the beast, crushing scale and bone with a sound like thunder. His knights staggered back, pale, their commander no longer distinguishable from the darkness raging around him.
The serpent roared, thrashing wildly, its tail flattening trees, its jaws snapping—
And then, in one instant, it stopped.
A single stroke cleaved through the clearing. The serpent's head split, black blood raining across the forest floor. The massive body shuddered once, then collapsed with an earth-shaking crash.
Abigel staggered back, his vision clearing just enough to see him.
Icarus.
Standing calm amidst the carnage, staff in hand, his gaze steady.
The whispers silenced. Umbros recoiled, like a beast leashed. Abigel gasped, his knees buckling as the weight of his aura crushed him to the ground. Around him, the Black Knights dropped too, drained and shaken.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
Then hoofbeats thundered through the trees.
Alwin burst into the clearing astride his horse. His eyes swept the scene—fallen knights, the young duke collapsed, the serpent's corpse cleaved clean through—until they landed on the lone figure still standing.
The forest lay in silence, broken only by the hiss of Umbros thrashing violently around its master. The serpent's corpse twitched in the blood-soaked earth, but Abigel didn't see it—he couldn't. His whole body trembled, breath tearing in and out like he was drowning.
Icarus's voice was sharp, merciless.
"You were supposed to keep sane."
Abigel's head snapped up. His eyes were no longer their normal but a hollow black, shadowed and wild. His voice broke like shattered glass.
"I lost her… She was right here—and I lost her." His chest heaved, his hand pressing against it as though to rip his heart out. "I promised you… I promised myself I'd protect her. And now—now she's gone because of me!"
Umbros roared in response, its aura swelling, the shadows clawing at the ground like they were grieving with him.
"You can't help me like this," Icarus said, his tone cold as stone. "You'll drag her deeper into danger. You'll become more dangerous to Aria than the beast itself."
But Abigel couldn't hear him anymore. The whispers in his skull had become screams. Weak. Worthless. You let her vanish. You'll always fail her. Tear him down before he leaves you behind too.
Abigel clutched his head, stumbling. His voice tore out in a guttural cry, raw with pain. "Why didn't you trust me?! If you'd let me stay by her side—if you hadn't kept her from me—maybe… maybe she'd still be here!" His throat burned, and tears of rage blurred his vision as he lunged, hands closing around Icarus's neck.
The knights froze, horror written on their faces, but Umbros's aura lashed outward, a storm of black energy forcing them back.
Icarus did not flinch. He looked at Abigel's broken face, and for the smallest instant—just an instant—something flickered in his eyes. Pity. Regret. Then it was gone.
"You've left me no choice," Icarus whispered.
He lifted his staff and pressed it against Abigel's brow. A surge of light and shadow collided—and Abigel's body crumpled, collapsing into the mud. Umbros keened, a low, mournful wail, before coiling protectively around its unconscious master.
Icarus lowered his staff, his voice like a blade. "Take the young duke back to the Duke of North. And hear me well—no one speaks a word of what happened. Not if you value your lives."
The Black Knights, pale with fear, bowed deeply. "Yes, my master."