Night fell, and the dense forest beyond the royal city was tinted grayish-white by cold flames.
In the wind, faint murmurs lingered, like the sighs of lost souls seeping from the depths of the earth.
Inside the camp of Snowflame Royal City, dozens of knights knelt in silence.
A faint gray flame mark was etched on each of their foreheads, flickering in the darkness, invisible to ordinary eyes.
The leader slowly raised his head, his pupils ablaze with black fire—it was the young knight corrupted by the "Remnants of the Throne" in the dream a few nights prior.
He spoke in a voice no longer pure: "From this night, our oaths belong no longer to the Snowflame King... but to the true master."
The surrounding knights chorused in a low chant: "The Shattered Moon and Gray Shadow are one."
Their voices, like tides echoing underground, were cold yet irresistible.
They named themselves—the Shadow Knights.
Meanwhile, deep within the palace.
Ilea woke with a start from a dream, cold sweat on her brow, her oath mark still burning hot on her chest.
She reached for Lucian beside her, only to find him trembling faintly.
"You dreamed it too?"
Lucian opened his eyes, his gaze grave: "They are gathering. I can feel it—a strange yet familiar power, tearing apart the oaths of our knight order."
Ilea nestled into his arms, her voice low: "It's her. She's using them to build a new army."
Lucian held her tightly, his forehead brushing her hair: "Then we strike first. We can't let her shadow spread."
She nodded softly, but a tremor still lingered in her chest. The gray shadow's whisper echoed in her ear:
"The more you resist, the deeper I dig. Ilea, you cannot protect them forever."
That same night, the Shadow Knights' secret ritual began in silence.
They knelt around a basin of ashen flames, and a hazy female figure emerged in the firelight.
It was the gray shadow.
"You shall be my blade," her voice cooed, enchanting and soft, with irresistible allure.
"Abandon the light, and you shall gain the immortal gray flame."
The cold flames in the basin erupted suddenly, lapping at their chests.
Amidst the searing pain, they seemed to sink into ecstasy, moans mingling with oaths.
Gray fire marks spread across their bodies, their breaths and heartbeats syncing with the female figure.
The gray shadow smiled, brushing her hand over the flames: "When the throne calls again, you shall tear out the Snowflame King's heart."
In the palace chambers.
Ilea, still trembling from the aftershocks of her dream, lay in Lucian's arms.
She murmured: "If they are truly corrupted... I would rather cut them down myself than let the gray shadow succeed."
Lucian held her fiercely, his lips brushing her ear: "You won't be alone. I'll stand with you, even if it means opposing the entire knight order."
Their breaths intertwined, as if using each other's passion to drive away the phantom's chill.
They sought courage in their fiery union, the glow of their oath marks burning through the night, as if to counter the spread of shadow.
Yet, as they lost themselves in each other's warmth, cold flames suddenly flared in the distance.
The Shadow Knights had already taken root in the kingdom's veins.