In the polar night of the Northern Realm, wind and snow cut like blades.
The flame-emblazoned royal flag hung high atop the cliff, reflecting the blood-red aurora in the distant sky. Evelyn stood in the wind, her fire-robed cloak billowing, with the Royal Flame Army arrayed silently behind her, as still and unyielding as iron. The war drums had not yet sounded, but the had already congealed into something tangible.
Lucian stood at her side, his eyes beneath the black armor burning like azure night fires. His fingertips brushed Evelyn's,and in that moment, she turned to look at him. Their gazes met in the cold wind—wordless, yet as fierce as newly kindled flames.
"Are you afraid?" Lucian asked in a low voice.
A faint smile curved Evelyn's lips: "Afraid you won't be ruthless enough."
Lucian laughed, but the smile was like a sword broken on ice, sharp and cold.
"Then tonight, let them witness what it means—to receive the iron-blooded grace of the Flame King."
The instant the horn sounded, the Royal Flame Army surged forward like a tide. Black-iron fire cavalry charged over the snow-capped ridges, storming toward the last defense line of the Cracked Moon King's remnants. But just as battle was joined, a pale streak suddenly tore through the night sky.
It was— the return of Karis, the White Flame Nun and apostle of the Cracked Moon King.
She hovered above the battlefield, wreathed in white flames, wielding a scepter of divine punishment. Her gaze was as cold as a heavenly edict: "The blood of the Burning King shall ultimately return to dust."
Evelyn snorted, raising her sword to point at the sky. Flames erupted from her palm, shooting straight to the zenith, as if to tear the entire divine realm asunder.
"I am the source of the royal flame, the one who burns heaven and splits earth. Your god is dead; your divine punishment is nothing but a flickering remnant."
With a thunderous crash, the two divine powers collided, and heaven and earth twisted in an instant.
In the command camp at the rear of the battlefield, Ileia stared intently at the front lines, when suddenly a sharp premonition seized her heart.
She spun around abruptly—Voltar, a soul-forged knight and remnant of the Cracked Moon King, had penetrated defenses with forbidden arts and launched a surprise attack!
In the clash of close combat, Ileia shouted angrily: "You dogs of the shadows—did you truly think we were unprepared?"
She sliced through the camp's support pillars with her sword. Flames collapsed with a roar, trapping them both in a ring of fire. Voltar: "You are nothing but a blade at the royal flame's side. Would the real you dare to love?"
Ileia's eyes trembled violently. Memories flashed in her mind of that night long ago, when she and Evelyn had briefly tangled in the dark—desire and loyalty intertwined. She let out a low roar, her sword moving like a dragon, slaying Voltar amid the flames.
On the main battlefield, Evelyn and Karis's duel had reached its limit. Flame sword and divine punishment scepter clashed repeatedly, cracks spreading across the vault of heaven.
Suddenly, a burst of blood-red light exploded from the ground. A soul shadow clad in black-and-red armor leaped forth—it was Casas!
Risen from death, his soul still lingering in the land of royal blood, he looked at Evelyn and whispered: "Until you die, I shall never know peace."
Lucian lunged from the rear, roaring as he intercepted Casas's attack.
The four of them tore through the long night amid swirling snow and wind.
Blood splattered on the snow, igniting soul flames that reached the heavens.
Deep into the night after the battle, in the royal tent, Evelyn leaned against Lucian's chest. Her wounds were still unhealed, but her breath came in ragged gasps.
"You almost didn't come back," she said, her voice hoarse.
"I told you—I would stay until the world is burned to ashes," he replied, lowering his head to kiss her shoulder and neck.
In that brief respite after the baptism of war, they held each other tightly, as if their body heat alone could melt the freezing cold of heaven and earth.
Lips and tongues intertwined, hands sliding beneath battle robes.
The flame had never died; it blazed anew between them.