Blood. Screams. Chaos.

  Deep beneath the surface, the Beniek Ruins had become a battlefield drenched in carnage. The vast underground expanse, once a silent relic of a forgotten age, now trembled with the fury of war. Corpses of elves, reliards, leporids, pesterios, and dragoons littered the shattered stone. Broken limbs. Severed heads. Skulls crushed underfoot. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burning flesh, as warriors tore each other apart in a savage struggle for survival.

  Some fought. Some ran. But none were spared.

  Across the ruin, Unbound factions clashed with the Ignir forces, their weapons carving through bodies like scythes through a field. Swords met flesh. Spears punctured throats. Fists shattered bone. And in the shadows, something worse lurked—creatures not bound by the petty squabbles of men. These monsters descended from the darkness, tearing through anything and anyone in their path. Teeth gnawed through armour. Clawed hands ripped warriors in half.

  It was a war within a war.

  A King’s Desperation

  Amidst the chaos, a bloodied elf stood tall, his golden hair stained crimson, his blue eyes burning with desperation. His armour, once regal and unblemished, was now cracked and covered in the blood of both friend and foe. He raised his sword high, his voice booming over the battlefield.

  “My daughter! Where is my daughter?! Find her—NOW!”

  His warriors, though battered and broken, scattered at his command, their feet kicking up dust and blood as they vanished into the fray. But the ruin was vast. And death was faster than them all.

  The elf king’s mind raced. She’s all I have left. If I lose her… His grip tightened on his sword as he charged into the chaos, cutting down any who stood in his way. He couldn’t fail. Not again.

  A Leporid’s Curse

  Not far from the elf king, a furred warrior sprinted for his life, weaving through the battlefield with frantic speed. Behind him, monstrous figures gave chase, their claws shredding the ground beneath them as they closed in.

  “Damn it all!” he spat, leaping over the crumbling remains of a fallen warrior. “Ever since I met those damn kids, my life has been nothing but shit! Curse you, Quihote!”

  A shadow loomed over him—a massive beast lunged, its fangs inches from his throat. And then—SLASH. A single blade cut through the darkness, slicing the creature clean in two. The force of the swing sent a shockwave ripping through the battlefield, bodies tumbling away like ragdolls.

  The leporid didn’t stop to look back. He just kept running, his mind a whirlwind of regret and rage. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to be free.

  Elsewhere

  The ground shuddered violently, the deep tremors splitting the bloodstained stone apart. Dust and debris ripped free from the battlefield, swirling through the air like a storm of shattered earth. Chunks of stone lifted unnaturally, hovering midair before launching forward, crashing into the monstrous beasts that had invaded the ruin.

  Floating above the chaos, a woman in a pristine white uniform, the number "5" emblazoned across her chest, extended her hands. Her glowing eyes pulsed as she controlled the battlefield itself. With a single motion, massive boulders twisted through the air, slamming into the monstrous creatures with the force of siege weaponry.

  In the same area—a red blur streaked across the battlefield. Faster than sight. Faster than sound. A red-skinned warrior moved like a phantom, his body drenched in blood, his fists coated in the remnants of war. Without hesitation—he struck. With one devastating blow, his fist buried itself into the skull of the largest beast, punching straight through bone and brain.

  BOOM. The impact ruptured the very ground beneath them, sending out a shockwave so violent that bodies were flung like ragdolls, the terrain itself cracking apart. Blood erupted from the creature’s head, its massive body collapsing lifelessly into the battlefield.

  But the red-skinned warrior didn’t stop. As the monster’s corpse crumbled, he twisted mid-air, his predatory gaze locking onto the floating woman above. He then vanished. A sonic boom shattered the air. One moment, he was on the ground—the next, he was right in front of her.

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  The woman’s glowing eyes widened—but before she could react—SHLKK. His hand tore straight through her chest. Her breath hitched, a gasp frozen in her throat as she stared at him in disbelief. Her fingers twitched, the power surging through her body flickering—and then she died.

  The floating debris collapsed, boulders and jagged stones raining down upon the battlefield below. The red-skinned warrior appeared in front of her, gouged out her two hearts, and ripped his hands free, watching as her lifeless body convulsed. He tossed her aside, her form crashing to the blood-soaked ground with a dull thud.

  Silence. For the briefest moment, the battlefield stood still. The red-skinned warrior turned his head, his piercing eyes locking onto the leporid warrior standing nearby. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other. Then—he vanished. A thunderous sonic boom erupted as he disappeared, the force of his departure sending another shockwave blasting through the battlefield.

  The leporid stumbled back, his heart hammering in his chest, his fur standing on end. He knew. He had just witnessed something beyond terrifying. But there was no time to process it.

  Elsewhere,

  A towering figure loomed over Valerius, his piercing gaze cutting through the young warrior like a blade. Slowly, he crouched down, eye level with Valerius, studying him as if peering into his very soul. His eyes flicked to Eryndor, then Ziraiah, before settling back on Valerius.

  "Your resemblance is uncanny," he mused, lips curling into a chilling smile. "Let’s play a little game."

  He turned his head toward Ziraiah, his voice deceptively pleasant.

  "TAKE FIFTEEN STEPS TO THE RIGHT."

  Ziraiah’s body moved against her will. Her legs carried her mechanically, step by step, until she stood fifteen paces away, frozen in place.

  "Good girl," the man purred.

  Then, with terrifying ease, he dug his fingers into the stone ground, ripping out a chunk of rock. His fingers worked with unnatural precision, shaping the stone into a sharp, deadly disc. He held it out to Valerius.

  "TAKE IT."

  Valerius’s hands trembled as he obeyed, the weight of the stone heavy in his grip.

  The man’s smile widened.

  "NOW… USE THIS TO TO SLICE OPEN YOUR SISTER’S CHEST. WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT."

  Eryndor’s eyes bulged. "NO!" he roared, veins straining as he fought against the invisible force holding him. "Valerius, fight it! That is your sister! Your Blood!"

  Tears streamed down Valerius’s face as he took a shuddering step forward. "I… can’t…"

  Ziraiah’s breath hitched as she stared at her brother, confusion and fear twisting her features. "Val? What are you doing?"

  Eryndor thrashed, his voice raw with desperation. "DON’T YOU DARE, VALERIUS! FIGHT HIM!"

  Valerius raised the stone, his entire body shaking. Tears blurred his vision as he stepped closer, his arm trembling with the effort to resist.

  Ziraiah’s lips quivered. "Val…?"

  The man, still crouched, watched with rapt amusement. Then, just as Valerius’s arm began its descent, he murmured, "You can move."

  Eryndor exploded into motion.

  With speed he had never before achieved, he vanished from his spot—at speeds nearing the speed of sound. He lunged, arms outstretched, snatching Ziraiah from harm’s way.

  But he wasn’t fast enough.

  The stone blade sheared through Eryndor’s armored leg, cleaving it clean off. Blood sprayed as he crashed to the ground, skidding across the stone with Ziraiah cradled protectively against his chest. His hand pressed over her head, shielding her even as pain wracked his body.

  A guttural groan escaped him.

  Valerius dropped the stone, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Relief flooded him—until he saw the severed limb lying on the ground.

  The man patted Valerius’s shoulder, his voice almost approving.

  "That’s quite the brother you have."

  Then—BOOM.

  The Black March moved.

  In a blur of motion, they seized their chance, fleeing with desperate speed. Beily snatched up Eryndor and Ziraiah, vanishing into the distance.

  Valerius remained, frozen in place, left behind.

  The man sighed, closing his eyes as if disappointed. "I got so excited, my hold slipped. No matter… they’ll all die anyway."

  Then his hand settled on Valerius’s head, fingers threading through his hair in an almost gentle grip.

  "You’re going to die here, little Elvhein," he murmured. "But before that…"

  He tilted Valerius’s head up, forcing their eyes to meet.

  "Tell me… how do you have so much Bravo within you?"

  The question hung in the air, heavy with dark curiosity.

  And Valerius, trembling and broken, had no answer.

  The Fall of Valerius

  After a while, in another section of the ruin, where the stench of death hung heavier than the air itself, a Valerius dangled over a deep, bottomless pit. His feet barely touched the edge of the fractured ground, his body broken, a gaping hole in his abdomen leaking blood onto the cracked stone below.

  The hand of the same man clutched his throat. A single, unshakable grip held him aloft, his body too weak to resist. The man before him stood unmoving, surrounded by bodies—beasts, warriors, monsters—all slain.

  The man’s grip tightened, his piercing eyes as cold as the abyss itself. His voice was devoid of emotion. Calm. Final.

  “I cannot allow someone like you to live. Your bloodline should have vanished forever.”

  Time stood still. Then—he let go. Valerius’s body lurched forward—and then he was falling. The air rushed past him, the shadows of the abyss swallowing him whole.

  His mind screamed. Damn it… why am I so weak? The pain in his body was nothing compared to the agony in his soul. You can’t do anything, you worthless bastard. His fingers twitched, but there was nothing to grab onto. Nothing to stop his descent.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it! His body twisted deeper into the void, his thoughts spiralling with him. Damn this bullshit world. DAMN IT! With a final, desperate cry, his voice roared through the abyss.

  “DAMN IT ALL!”

  To Be Continued…

  [Prologue - Vision of the Ruin]

  A glimpse into a future soaked in blood and lightning. The madness hasn’t begun yet… but it’s coming.

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