"Kael, whatever lurks in that place... it's something that should never exist!"
Noctharion's roar shakes through my mind, trembling with unrestrained fury.
"What are you talking about?" I snap back, my eyes fixed on the basin below. "Now isn't the time for riddles—"
"It's not a riddle, Kael," Noctharion cuts in, his voice heavy with urgency. "You have to stop that thing from controlling your commander first."
"What? Control him?" My heart stutters, a cold lump of disbelief. "There's no way that thing can control the Commander. He's a peak S-rank—he comes here prepared. He must have a plan."
I grit my teeth, refusing to doubt Arvell even now.
"You don't understand, Kael. The feeling I'm getting from that entity... it's not something an S-rank resists."
"What do you mean?"
"That being was made to control creatures like your Commander. Like the Lava Giant. Resistance is meaningless before it."
"...Fuck," I mutter, my breath catches, sharp and cold in my chest.
Below, Commander Arvell still stands with his blade raised, his eyes darting across the burning basin. The tension in his stance screams that he feels it too—that shift, that unseen pressure tightening around him like a noose.
But the Lava Giant...
It no longer moves.
Its molten body, once raging with fury, stands frozen—utterly motionless. The flames around it dim, fading until only faint, sickly embers glow beneath its cracked, black skin.
The fire in its eyes flickers once... then dies.
In an instant, all that rage, all that unstoppable destruction, vanishes.
It stands there like a statue.
Like a puppet whose strings snapped.
My throat dries out. "This can't be happening..."
"It's already begun," Noctharion growls. "The entity beneath the earth takes hold. The Lava Giant was never alive, Kael. It was forged to serve that thing."
A pulse ripples through the air—faint, almost invisible, yet strong enough to make the earth shudder beneath my boots.
And far below, even Commander Arvell finally stops moving.
He doesn't lower his weapon... but he doesn't strike either.
He just stands there—still as the monster before him—the faint blue glow of his aura flickering, dimming, fading out.
The world holds its breath again, a suffocating silence.
"Kael..." Noctharion's voice lowers, filled with something I've never heard from him before—fear. "That thing... it doesn't just control bodies. It links minds. It was created to turn the strongest into its extensions."
The realization slams into me like a blade through the chest.
If that's true—if it can reach into the mind of a peak S-rank—then...
No one is safe.
Then, as if to make Noctharion's words true, the Commander's stance falters.
His body stiffens—then trembles violently, every muscle seizing as though something invisible wraps around him, crushing his will.
He staggers, his blade scrapes against the molten ground, the sound a desperate cry.
"Commander?" I whisper, my chest tightens with dread.
Arvell's entire frame convulses once, twice—then he jerks his head violently, as if trying to shake off a thing clawing into his very soul.
"What is happening to the Commander?" I ask, my voice shaking despite my resolve.
"That thing," Noctharion's voice rumbles in my head, dark and edged with fury, "it's trying to claim him."
"Claim him?" My throat dries. "That's impossible—he's S-rank! No one can—"
"No one natural can," Noctharion cuts me off, his tone grave. "But that being isn't natural."
Below, Arvell lets out a guttural growl. His aura flares erratically—wild bursts of blue mana erupt around him, clashing violently with an unseen, suffocating force. The air ripples like water under pressure, a silent battlefield.
He drops to one knee, one hand clutching his head, the other digging raggedly into the cracked earth. His breath comes in ragged bursts. His body shakes, armor rattling like chains of torment.
And then... he stops fighting.
His breathing evens out.
His aura flickers once—and goes completely, horrifyingly still.
The silence that follows is suffocating, a heavy blanket of defeat.
Arvell rises.
Slowly. Mechanically.
The way he moves makes my skin crawl—too rigid, too deliberate. Like his mind isn't the one giving the orders; it's being stolen.
His head turns to the side in a slow, unnatural motion, as though testing how his neck works.
Then his arm twitches—fingers flexing one by one.
His other hand follows, opening and closing repeatedly.
He rolls his shoulders, tilts his head again—like someone inhabiting a new, perfect body.
"It's using him," Noctharion growls, voice thick with disgust. "Testing its control. The Commander's mind is being forced aside."
My pulse spikes. "You mean—he's—"
"A puppet," Noctharion finishes, his voice final. "For now."
Arvell's eyes lift toward the Lava Giant. The creature, which stood frozen moments ago, begins to move in tandem—its massive body mimics the Commander's gestures.
When Arvell raises his arm, the Lava Giant mirrors him.
When he tilts his head, so does the monster.
Their movements sync—rhythmically, flawlessly—as if one vile mind commands both bodies.
"Noctharion, can you save the commander from that thing?"
"No, Kael," his voice rumbles through my mind—deep, cold, and final. "I can only protect your consciousness. My bond ties me to you alone. I cannot interfere with his mind."
My stomach drops. "So what can we do to save him?" I ask, my voice barely holding together.
The commander's body convulses. His stance falters, and then his limbs begin to move—unnaturally, like they no longer belong to him. Fingers twitch, his head tilts sharply, his body bends and straightens as though someone invisible pulls the strings, testing their tension.
The air turns heavy, charged with something vile and corrosive. Each tremor in his frame screams resistance, but those eyes... those fierce, disciplined eyes that once led men into battle... are empty now. Lifeless.
I can only stand there and watch, rooted by horror. My hands shake uncontrollably. "So we're bound to lose here too..." I mutter, the words scraping my throat raw with despair. I clench my fists so tightly that my nails tear into my skin—warm blood drips down, grounding me in that cruel, agonizing moment.
Then, amidst the crackling air and the commander's distorted movements, Noctharion's voice comes again—low, grim, heavy with meaning.
"There is something you can do, Kael."
I freeze. "...What is it?"
"It will be dangerous—beyond anything you've faced. If you fail, that creature will not just control the commander... it will claim you as well."
My gaze locks onto the commander, his body jerking like a marionette under the control of something unseen. The horror reflects in the firelight, and I feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest, suffocating me.
"Then tell me," I say quietly, forcing the words past the dread clawing at my throat. My jaw tightens, blood still dripping from my palm. "If that's what it takes... I'll do it."