The night wind howled, and the bells of the royal capital tolled urgently through the darkness.
An ominous shadow silently enshrouded the entire city, like an invisible tide.
In the streets, countless commoners emerged from their homes, their expressions vacant, their steps stiff.
Their pupils glowed with ashen-gray fire, and faint flame patterns flickered across their chests.
In their hands, they held not weapons, but tools of daily life—sickles, stones, even sticks smoldering with ash.
They were fully controlled by the gray shadow's dream tide.
On the palace walls, Ilea, clad in armor, watched as countless ashen-gray lights flickered to life in the alleys of the capital.
The oath mark on her chest throbbed as if it would tear her apart, her eyes filled with shock and fury.
Lucian stood beside her, flame sword in hand, his features sharp and cold: "They are not acting of their own will."
"I know," Ilea whispered, yet her fingers tightened around her sword hilt. "But if we don't stop them, they'll destroy the entire royal city."
In the distance, thousands of sleepwalking commoners surged toward the palace, chanting in unison:
"Shadow Lord... Shadow Lord..."
Their voices, like a tidal wave, pressed down on the defenders until they could barely breathe.
At the palace gates, the first wave of assault struck suddenly.
The commoners, wielding crude implements, madly slammed against the iron gates, gray flames corroding the solid wood and metal.
Ilea shouted: "Raise shields!"
The Purifying Flame Patrol formed a line of defense, yet hesitated to strike.
"Your Highness... they are our people!" a young soldier trembled.
Ilea's gaze turned icy: "They are no longer here—they are lost in dreams. If we don't stop them, they'll suffer a far worse death."
She swung her sword, and a blazing flame blade swept out, igniting the surging gray flames.
Dozens of commoners fell, yet the gray shadow's laughter rose in response.
"Excellent... let the queen butcher her own people with her own hands. Do you truly think you can protect them?"
A sharp pain lanced through Ilea's chest, nearly making her stumble.
Lucian caught her at once, his voice urgent: "Don't listen to her! If you hesitate, the entire city will fall."
His eyes burned like fire as he murmured in her ear: "I'll bear the weight of this blood debt for you."
Tears welled in Ilea's eyes, yet her expression hardened in the next moment: "No... this is my throne."
She raised her flame sword high, and her oath mark blazed with golden-red fire, illuminating the entire capital.
"People of the Flame King, hear my command! Guardians, drive back the cold flames!"
Battle erupted.
Gray flames clashed fiercely with Phoenix flames in the streets.
The commoners were repeatedly repelled by the purifying flames, yet under the pull of the gray shadow's dream tide, they rose again, their growing more fanatical.
Lucian cut a path through the crowd, knocking down several commoners with the flat of his sword, only to realize in alarm—the gray flame patterns on their bodies were spreading. Without severing them completely, the flames would soon burn through their souls.
"Ilea!" he roared. "We need stronger purifying flames, or they'll be devoured entirely!"
Ilea bit her lip, her gaze fixed on the chaos ahead.
Her oath mark seared with unbearable pain. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer: "Phoenix... lend me all your flames."
Her body suddenly erupted in brilliant Phoenix fire, golden-red wings unfurling behind her, lighting up the night sky.
She leaped down, crashing into the gray flames as a streak of blazing light.
The commoners screamed in unison. The gray shadow's dream tide tore, and the flames dispelled the gray light from their eyes.
Yet, just as most regained their senses, the gray shadow's phantom appeared in the sky.
She smiled, brushing a hand through the air, murmuring softly:
"Well done, Ilea. Every time you unleash the Phoenix flame, I sink deeper into your heart."
Ilea's chest spasmed, and she spat up blood, yet still held her flame sword high.
Lucian rushed to her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, roaring: "Enough! Stop draining yourself!"
She managed a faint smile, her eyes steady: "If I stop... everyone will die."
Their lips met amid the chaos of battle, tears and sweat mingling, their oath marks burning with fierce intensity.
But in the distance, the shadows had not dissipated. Instead, they spread beneath the royal capital, forming a vast tide of gray flames.