Steel sang, frost hissed, and the clearing burned cold and hot at once.
The Dark Elf commander stepped forward from the patrol line — lean as a blade, clad in lacquered black armor that shimmered like oil in moonlight. His twin sabers were hooked, cruel things, each rune along their edge burning faintly red. His voice was a low, mocking rasp."Half-blood wolf… let's see how well you dance."
Kaelvryn's mismatched gaze narrowed."Rip him apart, Gideon."
Gideon answered with motion, not words. The twin blades in his hands spun in a figure-eight, frost trailing from the short blade, ember-fire from the katana. The Whirlwind Splitter burst into life — a spiraling vortex of opposing elements. The shockwave knocked two lesser soldiers off their feet before the commander even blocked.
The first clash was thunder. Frost bit into steel, sparks exploded, and the molten pulse of Kaelvryn's armor sent shockwaves through the ground. The commander's hooked saber caught the katana just long enough for the second blade to slice across his thigh — shallow, but fast enough to draw a hiss of pain.
Ezra, crouched behind a fallen log, flung out both hands. A spear of lightning ripped from his fingertips, so bright it left afterimages. It tore through a Dark Elf shield wall in one deafening crack — but the force also splintered nearby trees, sending shards flying toward friend and foe alike."Ezra—!" Caleb barked, ducking as a branch the size of a spear whistled past his ear.
"Sorry!" Ezra yelled back, already weaving another spell. This time, a fireburst detonated in the center of a charging squad — wiping them out, but setting half the underbrush ablaze. Smoke curled thick, swallowing the edge of the fight.
Caleb wrenched a spear from an enemy's grip and hurled it like a javelin, pinning another elf to a tree. Eliakim's chain snapped around an archer's leg, dragging him screaming into the mud.
In the chaos, Eliakim locked eyes with Liora Veyrn. Her silver hair was matted, her wrists raw from iron cuffs. She wasn't begging — but her gaze was steady, almost defiant. She doesn't want saving… she wants a choice.
"Darkmoor!" Vaeryn's voice cut from the treeline, sharper than the battle itself. "Leave her, and I'll open you a path out. Take her, and every patrol from here to the coast will know exactly where you are."
Eliakim's mind raced. Liora could be leverage. She could also be the knife in his back if Vaeryn was right. Every muscle in his body screamed to end the fight and run — but Gideon was holding the commander at bay, and Kaelvryn's armor burned brighter with each clash.
The commander snarled, sabers a blur, locking Gideon into a dead heat. "You're strong, half-breed," he spat, "but strength without loyalty is nothing."
Gideon answered with a roar, blades crossing in an X — the frost and fire exploded outward, a Whirlwind Splitter at full force. The shockwave sheared through trees, ripped the commander's footing out from under him, and left his armor steaming and cracked.
Ezra seized the opening, hurling a final surge — a massive arc of lightning that struck the commander's shoulder, shattering one of his sabers but also blasting Gideon back two steps with the recoil.
Eliakim moved. The chain shot from his right hand, wrapping around Liora's captor's throat. One yank — and the man crumpled. He caught Liora's arm before she hit the ground.
Vaeryn stepped out from the shadows at last, moonlight cutting across his face. No more smirk, no more casual mask — just cold calculation."So," he said softly, "you've chosen your side."
From the treeline, new horns sounded. More forces were coming. And now there was no way back.