The trees to the east didn't bend from wind — they folded like grass before something massive.
Skyling shrieked above, diving hard. —Eliakim, they're not men.
The first shape stepped into the moonlight — a towering silhouette of black armor, segmented like an insect's shell, its eyes glowing a molten red that didn't blink. Behind it came more, a dozen… no, two dozen, their movement too perfect, too silent.
Ezra's next spell fizzled mid-cast as the air around them thickened."What in the Void—"
The black-armored figures didn't join the Dark Elves, nor the mercenaries — they cut through both, impaling a mercenary captain and tearing a Dark Elf shieldbearer apart in the same sweep.
Caleb's arrow hit one square between the eyes — it didn't even stagger.
"New force!" Gideon roared, blades already crossing in Kaelvryn's elemental song. "They're going for everyone!"
Eliakim's mind split between tactics and the piercing cry from somewhere beyond the chaos —"Eliakim!"
Liora Veyrn's voice.
He turned just in time to see her dragged into the clearing by two black-armored soldiers, her cloak torn, silver hair tangled, eyes wide with something more than fear. A sigil burned faintly across her collarbone — binding magic.
Vaeryn moved faster than anyone — one dagger in each hand, stepping toward the soldiers holding Liora… and then stopping just short.
"Your move, Darkmoor," Vaeryn called over the roar of battle, his voice cold but tinged with challenge. "If I act now, we both know what that makes me."
Ezra unleashed another blast — half the ground between them vanished in light and fire. Gideon and Kaelvryn's elemental dance clashed with a black-armored commander, frost steam and cold fire melting into the shadows. Caleb picked targets with surgical precision, but there were too many.
Liora struggled, catching Eliakim's gaze even in the storm. "Don't— don't let him—"
Her words cut off as the soldier's gauntleted hand covered her mouth.
The Codex of Imreth's mental map lit up in Eliakim's mind — all forces closing inward. The battlefield was becoming a vice.
To save Liora now meant turning Vaeryn into a direct ally… or leaving her fate in his hands and sealing him as an enemy.
And the fourth shadow force was still advancing.
The world narrowed to two images in Eliakim's mind — Liora Veyrn's tear-streaked face, and Vaeryn's still, unreadable eyes.
"Your move, Darkmoor," Vaeryn said, knives glinting, body angled to spring. "I can reach her before they break her neck. But it makes us… allies."
All around, the battlefield buckled — Gideon and Kaelvryn's blades sang frost and fire against a Dark Elf commander; Ezra's unstable bursts turned patches of forest into incandescent craters; Caleb's arrows threaded through chaos like silver needles. And still, the black-armored giants kept advancing, silent, methodical, killing everything.
Eliakim's heart beat once. Twice.
He thought of what trusting Vaeryn meant — giving the triple-agent a foothold.He thought of what not trusting him meant — letting Liora's breath run out while the war swallowed them whole.
Snap choice.
"Go."
The single word was an order. And permission.
Vaeryn moved like a thrown blade, cutting across the battlefield in a blur. He slid beneath a black-armored swing, planted a dagger in its knee joint, used the recoil to launch himself upward — and the next heartbeat, Liora was in his arms, spun away from the gauntleted grip. The soldier's head hit the dirt a second later.
Eliakim surged forward to meet them, covering Vaeryn's retreat with quick, surgical strikes. Skyling dove from above, scattering golden feathers like falling sparks, its cry syncing to the Codex of Imreth's mental map in Eliakim's mind — lines of force and enemy positions etching themselves in glowing arcs.
But the rescue came with a price.
The Dark Elf commander, sensing a gap in Gideon's duel, drove his blade toward Liora's captors — not to save her, but to take her himself. Gideon pivoted, crossing swords in a blazing spiral of cold fire and hot frost — Kaelvryn's Whirlwind Splitter in full bloom — forcing the commander back but leaving their flank open.
Ezra's next spell roared into existence — too wide, too hot — nearly taking Gideon with it before detonating in the ranks of both black-armored warriors and Dark Elves. Caleb's arrows picked the survivors from the blast edge, each shot threading between allies like he was sewing the battlefield together.
The black-armored soldiers didn't flinch at the losses. They simply closed ranks… and advanced again.
Eliakim's Codex map shifted — four forces now converging on the same point.
And in the middle of it, holding her ground beside him, was Liora Veyrn — pale, trembling, but eyes sharp, as if she understood the war had changed the instant he chose to trust Vaeryn.