The night sky over the royal city was dyed ghostly white by cold flames, and the streets under the moonlight were eerily silent.
Yet, in the dark corners lurked an unfamiliar aura.
In the shadows along the outer walls of the palace, dozens of knights moved silently.
Their armor made no sound, and their pupils burned with hidden gray flames, like lamps lit by the dead.
This was the first operation of the Shadow Knights.
Their target was neither the armory nor the palace, but the capital's prayer hall.
It housed the sacred statues of the Flame King and the Phoenix, the core of faith for the entire Snowflame Kingdom.
If the statues were destroyed by gray flames, the beliefs of the entire kingdom would waver.
Meanwhile, Ilea was jolted awake by a sudden palpitations.
She sat up abruptly, and the oath mark on her chest glowed faintly, as if in warning.
Lucian immediately took her hand, his gaze sharp: "You feel it too?"
"It's them," Ilea whispered, a glint in her eyes. "They mean to desecrate our faith."
Without donning armor, they hurriedly threw on cloaks, grabbed their flame swords, and set off.
The night wind howled, and the bells of the royal city tolled in the distance, as if warning of the nightmare about to befall the city.
Inside the prayer hall.
Cold flames had already crept silently up the base of the sacred statues.
A Shadow Knight raised his gray-flame longsword and intoned softly: "In the name of the Gray Shadow, destroy the false light."
Just as the blade was about to fall, the door burst open with a crash.
Flames surged in from the entrance, illuminating the entire hall.
"Blasphemers!" Ilea's voice exploded like fire.
She and Lucian strode in side by side, flame swords in hand, their blades blazing with golden-red Phoenix flames.
The Shadow Knights turned in unison, their gray-flame eyes fixing on them.
The leading knight sneered: "Your Majesty... you've finally come. Your shadow has already taken root in our hearts."
Battle erupted in an instant.
Gray flames clashed with Phoenix flames, sparks flying, and the hall's dome trembled with the roar.
Lucian's swift swordplay cut off the attacks of two knights, but he was shocked to see they showed no sign of pain—instead, they grew more fanatical amid the gray flames.
"They... are no ordinary enemies," he muttered.
Ilea's brow furrowed as she sliced through a chain of gray flames, her chest throbbing with the burning pain of her oath mark.
She whispered: "It's her. She's manipulating their will."
The leading Shadow Knight suddenly lunged forward, his sword moving faster than the eye could follow.
Ilea raised her blade to block, but the force from his sword felt inhuman.
"Your oath mark... will belong to her in the end," he murmured, his gaze glinting with the same eerie light as the Gray Shadow.
The blade closed in, nearly touching her neck.
Lucian roared, swinging his sword in a wide arc to drive the knight back, then pulled Ilea into his arms.
"You will never fall into her hands," he gritted out.
Back to back, the glow of their oath marks intertwined into a ring of flame, keeping the advancing shadows at bay.
The gray-flame knights stepped back, then chanted in unison: "The Gray Shadow never dies. Judgement is nigh."
In the next moment, their bodies dissolved into cold flame ashes and vanished.
Silence fell over the hall, broken only by the faint tremor of the half-burned statues.
Ilea clutched her chest, whispering: "They didn't flee... they merged into the shadows as gray flames, lying in wait again."
Lucian gripped her hand, his eyes steady: "Then we'll chase them to the ends of the earth and cut them down one by one."
They stared at each other, their lips trembling slightly.
In that fierce kiss, they vowed never to yield to the shadows.
Yet, in the shadow of the sacred statue, a faint wisp of gray shadow still wriggled, chuckling softly:
"The trial... has only just begun."