Arc 6 – The War of Bonds
The plains of Velmir once shimmered with harvest light. Now they burned.
Lyn stood upon a rise of blackened soil, cloak whipping in the wind as smoke curled from distant villages. Behind him stretched a sea of banners — makeshift, tattered, but alive. Hundreds of tamers, spirits, and outcasts stood shoulder to shoulder beneath no nation's crest.
Umbra's shadow unfurled behind him like a living night. —They came because they believe in you, the spirit murmured. Or because they've nowhere else to go.
Lyn's eyes narrowed at the horizon where the Empire's silver-armored legions formed an unbroken wall. "Maybe both," he said quietly. "But that's enough."
Rhea approached, her staff pulsing with blue light. "Scouts confirm the High Council's vanguard. Three spirit legions, eight battalions of tamers. They're not holding back this time."
Arden smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Good. Would've been disappointing otherwise."
The rebel ranks stirred — whispers, nervous laughter, the scent of ozone from dozens of bonded beasts readying their power. Lyn felt the hum of their fear and hope through the threads of mana that tied them together. It was chaotic, imperfect — but alive.
He raised a hand, and silence fell.
"You've all lost something," he said, voice carrying over the plain. "A home, a name, a bond that was taken or branded. Today, we stop losing."
Umbra's voice rose beneath his words, echoing through every beast and spirit present. —The Empire chained the world with fear. Break those chains, and let the world remember its pulse.
A tremor rippled through the gathered host — not from magic, but from conviction.
Rhea stepped forward. "Lyn. If we start this, there's no turning back."
He looked at her, then past her, to the line of enemy banners gleaming under the sun. "There never was a back to turn to."
Arden laughed softly. "That's one way to put it. All right then, Shadowborn. Let's give them a war worth remembering."
The first horn sounded from the Empire's side — a deep, metallic bellow that rolled across the field like thunder.
Then, another answered it — low, primal, carried by the rebels' spirits. Umbra's wings spread wide, casting a vast shadow over both armies.
—Orders? the spirit asked.
"We hold until they break formation," Lyn said. "Then we strike the tamers first. Sever their bonds — make the beasts remember their freedom."
Umbra's eyes gleamed. —Mercy or annihilation?
Lyn hesitated only a heartbeat. "Mercy, if they choose it."
The world exploded in motion.
Mana surged as the Empire's front line advanced — formations of silver and gold, their spirits roaring in synchronized fury. The earth cracked beneath them. Lyn raised his hand, channeling through his crest. Umbra's shadow bled across the ground like liquid night, swallowing the front ranks of the enemy before erupting upward in a cascade of darkness.
Spirits screamed, bonds snapping like threads under tension.
Rhea thrust her staff forward, releasing a torrent of crystalline lightning that cut through the air, tracing Umbra's wake. Arden followed with a charge, his sword igniting with flame — not divine, but the raw fire of rebellion.
"Push forward!" Lyn shouted. "Don't let the Council regroup!"
Umbra's form split, shadows manifesting into smaller fragments — echoes of itself fighting alongside the rebels. Each echo fought not to kill, but to unbind.
Within minutes, the battlefield was chaos — light and dark clashing, mana storms erupting as broken bonds discharged centuries of suppressed energy.
Through the noise, Lyn heard the faintest whisper — the song of the City of First Bonds, the echo of freedom reborn.
Umbra's voice came soft amid the storm. —They're afraid, Lyn. The High Council watches from the skies. They see what you've done.
"Then let them watch," Lyn said through gritted teeth. "Because this time, the fire won't go out."
He leapt forward, crest blazing, and Umbra's roar split the sky — the cry of every creature that had ever known a chain.
For the first time since the world's creation, light did not silence shadow. They burned together — a single, terrible brilliance that marked the dawn of war.