Tengune and the armor-clad woman walked through the cave silently, their shadows dancing against the dim torchlight. The cave's damp air clung to Tengune's fur, the soft shuffle of her armor the only sound coupling their footsteps. She strode with pride and purpose, head held high, her long strides echoing, eyes fixed ahead, her armor glinting faintly in the flickering glow.
"We should move quicker," Tengune stated, his voice low. "Jessie's likely at the village by now, and I'm not sure how she'd fare."
"We shall move at my liking, beast," the woman commanded, her tone sharp. "Thou wilt not rush me for a commoner."
"Look, I'd rather not be your enemy," Tengune sighed, his chest tightening. "There's already a lot happening."
"Whether thou art foe or not matters not to me," the woman hissed, her breath sharp with frustration. "Defy me, and thou wilt be crushed all the same."
Tengune palmed his head, glancing at her warily, the weight of her potential trouble pressing on him. "Let's start over," he said, forcing a smile. "I am Tengune."
"Thou art naught but petty rabble," the woman sneered, her lips curling. "Thou wouldst do well to know thy place."
"Really? And how am I to address you?" Tengune frowned, crossing his arms.
"'Tis not my duty to educate the commonfolk," the woman scoffed, her frown deepening, teeth gritting. "But fear not, when I return to my empire, I shall reform the educational sectors, for 'tis clearly failing."
"That doesn't answer my question," Tengune smirked, his eyes glinting with defiance.
"A royal answers not the inquiries of fools," the woman barked. "Thou shalt address me as Mi'lady or Empress, nothing more."
"I don't even know you," Tengune argued, his voice firm. "What royalty do you claim to be from?"
"I am Tiamat, royal heir to the great empire of Wyveria," she declared, puffing out her chest proudly, her armor clanking softly.
"Wyveria?" Tengune pondered, scratching his chin. "I've never heard of that place."
"Of course one of thy pitiful status and mind would not know," Tiamat snarled, her eyes flashing. "Wyveria is the land of the elite."
"I'm quite well educated, thank you," Tengune growled, his jaw tightening. "I've seen many maps and charts. Wyveria appears on none I've ever studied."
"A fool's observation," Tiamat retorted.
"And why is the future leader of an entire country running through a cave, mercilessly slaying goblins?" Tengune pressed, his brow furrowing.
"I know not," Tiamat sighed, her voice growing heavy and low, her gaze distant. "But in my boundless grace, I granted the chief's request."
"The chief sent you here? He didn't mention that," Tengune stumbled, confused, his mind racing. "Regardless, if you're an empress, that doesn't explain your presence here."
Tiamat stayed silent, her eyes narrowing, her silence hanging heavy, a storm brewing in her gaze. The torchlight flickered, casting jagged shadows on the cave walls.
"Do you even know how you got here in the first place?" Tengune pressed, his voice softer, probing.
"Silence!" Tiamat barked, her hand twitching toward her spear. "I grow weary of these foolish questions. One more, and I cleave thee in twain."
Tengune's shoulders slumped, his breath heavy, as the dim light of the village glowed faintly at the cave's end. He and Tiamat walked through the empty streets, the air thick with the reek of ash and decay. No goblins stirred, their absence chilling the silence. The soft clank of Tiamat's armor mingled with their footsteps, her spear glinting in the torchlight. Tengune's ears twitched, catching a distant commotion from the plaza.
They cautiously made their way there. Tengune and Tiamat stopped, their shadows stark against the flickering torchlight. In the plaza, goblins swarmed, their guttural snarls carried by the wind. Thorren towered among them, his fists crashing down on Jessie, who lay unmoving on the ground, her fingers twitching faintly, her shallow breaths rasping.
Tiamat's lips curled into a sharp grin, her eyes glinting with menace as she drew her spear and shield with a metallic scrape, drawing the goblins' gaze. Tengune's eyes widened, his jaw tightening, fixed on Jessie's battered form.
"There you are!" Thorren yelled, his voice booming across the plaza. "Last is the rogue—seize them!"
The goblins rushed forward, their weapons gleaming. Tiamat braced her stance, her shield raised, her shoulders squared with defiance. Tengune stood frozen, his breath hitching, as if time itself slowed. One of his heads tilted, its lips twisting into a faint smile. The other head's eyes narrowed, its jaw clenched.
"O' fragile vessel," the frowning head hissed, its voice sharp in Tengune's mind, "these feral goblins were never destined to succeed."
"And in thy vanity, thou hast doomed all," the smiling head cackled, its eyes glinting, "all because thou thought to save everyone."
"But wilt thou kill them, or let them kill her?" the frowning head pressed, its voice low, venomous.
"Just let me help," the smiling head sneered, its lips curling wider, "I'll make it all better."
"Kill them," the frowning head growled, its eyes creaking open. "Make them pay"
"Burn them," the smiling head howled, its voice rising to a shriek. "Make them suffer"
"Kill them!" "Burn them!" "Kill them!" "Burn them!"
Tengune's shoulders stiffened, his knuckles whitening around his staff, blood trickling from his clenched fists. His head twitched, his eyes blazing with a faint red glow. A guttural roar tore from his throat, echoing through the plaza. He drew his tome, fingers weaving runes that glowed crimson in the dim torchlight. A blast of flame erupted, scorching a score of goblins and the village's wooden stalls to cinders, the air thick with the stench of charred flesh and smoke.
Tiamat charged through the swirling ash, her spear raised, cleaving goblins asunder with swift, brutal strikes. Her shield slammed into others, sending them sprawling across the scorched ground. Tengune unleashed wave after wave of flame, the heat searing the plaza, consuming goblins and buildings alike. A goblin lunged at him, but he cracked its skull with his staff, pounding it into the dirt relentlessly. Another leapt from behind; Tengune palmed its face, flames bursting from his hand, charring its flesh as it collapsed, choking on smoke.
Jessie's fingers clawed the dirt, stirring faintly in the chaos, her shallow breaths rasping beneath the din. A figure darted in the shadows, goblins vanishing into the dark with it.
Tiamat charged at Thorren, her spear glowing with holy mana, its light cutting through the smoke. "Face me, filth!" she bellowed, closing the distance, her shoulders squared. Thorren waved his hand, a heavy steel orb humming as it flew forward, its runes pulsing. It slammed into Tiamat's spear, knocking her off balance. Thorren's fingers danced through a sequence of hand signs, the orb's runes flaring in response. With a snap of his fingers, the orb pulsed with mana, ripping the holy magic from Tiamat's spear. He recalled the orb to his hand, weaving runes of his own, then unleashed a bolt of lightning. Tiamat slid back, her spear raised to block, her lips curling tighter.
"Unworthy vermin," she hissed, charging again, her spear thrusting and swinging. Thorren parried with the orb, its runes dancing in the air. Tiamat's eyes flicked to the village, where dismembered goblin corpses littered the ground, a ball of flame exploding another score nearby. The distraction let Thorren slam the orb against her head, but she steadied herself, gripping her spear, her eyes narrowing with defiance.
"Futile effort!" Tiamat roared, puffing out her chest, her pupils slitting as a deep bellow stunned Thorren, his stance faltering. Her spear flared with holy mana, runes gathering at its tip. Thorren broke out of the stun and began quickly weaving hand signs but a blade extended from the shadows, striking the orb with a metallic clang. Omaar slid past, his dagger slashing Thorren's ankle, buckling him to the ground.
"Insignificant whelp," Tiamat sneered, her spear raised, runes pulsing. "Smite!" The spear slammed into Thorren's shoulder, a violent explosion ripping through the burning village. As the smoke cleared, the few remaining goblins fled, their screams fading. Thorren lay dead, half his body torn apart by the blast. Omaar stepped over the goblin corpses, his fingers twitching as he looted their valuables, his eyes scanning coldly.
"Thou didst not request my feeble aid," Tiamat growled, glaring at Omaar, the flag of her spear whipping in the damp breeze, heavy with the stench of burnt wood.
"Sure looked like you needed it," Omaar shrugged, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk as he pocketed a small sack of gold. Tiamat stepped toward Omaar, her knuckles whitening on her spear, but Tengune rushed past, kneeling and cradling Jessie in his arms. His gaze fell on Kamitafa's broken body, his jaw clenching as he shook his head. He pulled a potion from his pouch, tilting it to Jessie's lips. She choked, coughing and spitting the bitter liquid, her shoulders curling inward, tears streaking her face.
"Just kill me," she rasped, curling tighter in Tengune's arms, her fingers trembling. "I can't do it… I can't live anymore."
Tengune's eyes widened, his grip tightening on her. Omaar approached, twirling his dagger, his eyes vacant as he looked down at them. "This went better than I expected," he smirked, his grin sharp and cold. Tengune's eyes glinted, slowly locking onto Omaar seeing him sadistically grin ear to ear as looked down at them.
"Remember when I said I'd make you pay for the loot." Omaar snickered, "your debt's been cleared."
He gently set Jessie down, rising and swinging his staff furiously. Omaar parried, darting back, their weapons clashing in a dance of blocks and strikes until Omaar slammed a kick into Tengune's side, sending him stumbling. Tengune's fingers twitched, weaving runes, flames flickering in his palm, but Tiamat thrust her spear between them, its blade glinting.
"Enough!" she commanded, her voice booming. "thou have not permitted you two to fight, nor do thy find entertainment in it."
"Who is this fool?" Omaar snarled, his dagger still raised.
"Know thy place, rodent," Tiamat sneered, her eyes slitting as she gripped her spear. "Or it will be thy head next."
"You'll have to earn this head," Omaar smiled, his fingers flexing. "It didn't go well for the last elf who tried."
"We must leave," Tengune rasped, his head hung low, shoulders sagging. "We've done enough."
"We can't leave anymore," Omaar chuckled, his eyes glinting with mockery.
"And why is that?" Tengune hissed, his fists clenching. "You heartless bastard."
"What do you think will happen after envoys sent by the elves leave after mercilessly attacking all of them?" Omaar explained, folding his arms. "War. We've made peace impossible now."
"We?" Tengune barked, marching up and grabbing Omaar's collar, his knuckles whitening. "No, this is you. It's your fault, you did this."
"Did I do that?" Omaar smirked, pointing at the village engulfed in flames. Smoke stung their eyes, acrid and thick. "And guessing that you're here, the mines didn't go well either." Tengune released Omaar, his eyes darting to the floor, teeth gritted as the burning shadows of Wyrmwood flickered in his mind.
"Out of all of us, you have likely killed the most goblins," Omaar snickered. "Great job, hero." Tengune's grip tightened on his staff, but Tiamat strode to Jessie, still crumpled on the ground.
"Get up, coward," Tiamat growled, slamming the butt of her spear on the ground. Jessie didn't respond, so Tiamat grabbed her head, pulling it up. "I said rise, weakling. Thy fight is not over."
"How can it not be?" Jessie snapped weakly, clutching Tiamat's arm, her voice breaking. "I'm a loser, a failure. All I do is make things worse, and it's always my fault. It's better if I'm dead."
"Then die a coward and weakling. Let thy life amount to nothing, forgotten in time," Tiamat bellowed, her hand trembling briefly on her spear, her gaze catching her reflection in its polished blade. "Or thou canst rise, spit in the face of those who seek thy downfall, and show them all. Thou canst not run—none of us can." She panted, her head dropping, her eyes locking with Jessie's. "Mayhap 'tis better to embrace death's sweet release," she sighed, her voice soft and coarse, "but with thy heart still burning, thou canst not quit. Thou must return to glory for those who need thee, lest the cost amount to nothing."
Jessie's eyes flashed with her father's reflection, tears pouring as she sobbed uncontrollably as Tiamat released her and walked off. Tengune knelt, embracing her, and handed her a potion. She scarfed it down, its bitter taste like bile, drinking one after another until her wounds closed. She rose, pulling on her clothes and pouch, her gaze cold as she faced Omaar.
"Did you kill Kamitafa?" she asked, her hand gripping the Valkyrie in her pouch.
"Yes," Omaar grinned. Jessie drew the Valkyrie, firing a bullet into his side. She aimed for his head, but Omaar dodged, darting in to press his dagger to her neck, seizing her wrist. Tengune stood, flames flickering in his hand, his eyes wide. Omaar sighed, releasing her.
"I'll forgive you this time," Omaar relented, his voice low. "Try that again, and you won't see tomorrow." He walked toward the exit, staring coldly ahead as he smirked, the faint hum of holy magic evaporating from his body.
"Well, this is going very well," he murmured looking at the bullet in his side. Tiamat glanced back, her eyes narrowing.
"We shall eradicate the rest of this filth," Tiamat commanded. "With me."
Tengune approached Jessie, staring at the burning blue trees, their embers drifting in the wind. "Those plants likely caused the drought," he sighed, his shoulders heavy, "siphoning mana from the region. With them gone, it should recover." He met Jessie's empty gaze as she pocketed the Valkyrie.
"Are you okay, Jessie?" Tengune asked, kneeling beside Thorren's body.
"I'm fine," Jessie muttered, her eyes tracing Tengune's somber posture. "Are you okay?"
Tengune glared at Omaar's retreating figure, then turned to Thorren. "This weapon is connected by this ring," he said, slipping it from Thorren's hand, his mouth brushing something Jessie couldn't discern. He donned the ring, and the steel orb floated around him, its runes faintly glowing. "It's quite intuitive," he marveled, his voice soft. "Truly an amazing blacksmith. I'm sorry, Thorren." He signaled for them to move, and he and Jessie followed Omaar and Tiamat down the path. "We've got work to finish."
Kokutafa trudged into the empty cavern, the large crack in the ceiling casting a ray of light that bathed Miograce's corpse in a pale glow. Stale, coagulated blood pooled beneath her, the cavern's chill seeping into Kokutafa's bones. She knelt before the lifeless body, her brow furrowing as she traced the stab wounds riddling Miograce's form. Runes burned into her chest gleamed faintly, a green bullet lodged like a stake. Kokutafa tugged at it, but Miograce's body jittered and convulsed, forcing her to snatch her hand away. The bullet faded, then vanished, leaving Kokutafa's shoulders stiffened, her breath catching.
"This had better work," she sighed, clasping her hands, her fingers trembling as she closed her eyes and mumbled softly. Moments passed. Miograce's fingers twitched, her body rising off the ground, floating in the light's embrace. Kokutafa peeked, gasping as the corpse dropped like a doll. She shut her eyes tighter, her murmurs steady. The ray above flared, its intensity surging, as a pulse of divine magic rippled through the cavern, dust swirling in eerie shadows. Kokutafa's focus held firm.
Miograce's wounds sealed, her heartbeat echoing like a drum. The hum of divine magic swelled, her body glowing with radiant light. Her limbs twisted, bones snapping into place with sharp cracks. Her eyes snapped open, beams of light bursting from her eyes and mouth. She landed, her clothing and body restored, panting as she clutched her chest, her gaze darting around the cavern.
Kokutafa peeked again, her hands shaking as she edged back. "Did it truly work?" she whispered, her eyes scanning Miograce.
Miograce chuckled, her laugh echoing, sharp as breaking glass. She hugged herself, her grin widening, eyes wild as she gazed at the light above. "I have returned, yet you have forsaken me," she laughed, her voice rising. "Left me to rot in these cold caves, deprived of your light, even as your one true prophet, the future of your legacy." Her shoulders slumped, her arms spreading wide.
"Hear me, o' pitiful rock!" she hissed, her fingers twitching as she gripped her face. "I no longer need you. In mine own strength, I have found true grace. My light shall grow and swallow thee whole, o' false god." Her grin stretched ear to ear, her lips glistening as she licked them. "I am true divinity, the only true god," she declared, her voice sharp and booming. "A grace unparalleled, unmatched. Thou art nothing before mine infinite love, and soon you shalt know thy folly when faced with ruin, like him."
She clasped her hands, a pulse of holy light ringing out, though nothing followed. She chuckled, her fingers rubbing her death mark, crows flocking from the shadows, their cries heralding her. "He removed the spell," she giggled, sucking her thumb, her eyes glinting. "O' Omaar, my fated equal, my only true blessing, you are my key." Her body convulsed, the death mark pulsing with relentless pain as she smirked. "You are the only one who canst challenge me, break me, and build me anew. I shall have you, Omaar, and we shall bond in eternal love for me!" She knelt, clasping her hands, gazing skyward as a crow perched on her shoulder. "I saw her, crow mother," she affirmed. "She is death, the end, the eternal truth that binds us mortals. She wants us, Omaar, but I shan't let her have you, for you are mine alone. No deity can match me. Not even her."
Miograce approached Kokutafa, who edged back, her shoulders tensing. A gentle smile spread across Miograce's face as she cupped Kokutafa's cheeks, her hands glowing with holy magic. A wave of pleasure surged through Kokutafa, her breath hitching. "O' mine blessing," Miograce purred, "you have fulfilled thy duty with faithful devotion well. For this, you shall be rewarded a thousandfold and join me in enlightenment." Her smile widened, teeth gleaming. "In devotion to me, thou and thy kin shall find prosperity and power beyond understanding, the respect thou truly deserve." She pressed her lips to Kokutafa's, whose hair turned deep blue, her eyes radiant silver.
"Come, my love," Miograce smiled, her fingers lingering on Kokutafa's cheek. "Let us begin. We shall speak with your chief."
"I cannot do this," Kokutafa protested, her voice trembling. "you said we would stop the envoys from killing us, not run."
"Dost you not understand?" Miograce tilted her head, her eyes wide, unblinking. "you must bring thy kin to salvation, not thy pitiful chief, deluded by grandeur." She gently grasped Kokutafa's neck, sending another wave of divine mana, intensifying the elation. "The inquisition shall crush you in time," she murmured, pressing her forehead to Kokutafa's. "But under my light, you shalt never fall, protected by mine almighty grace. Come with me—it is the only path to true salvation." Kokutafa nodded faintly, her shoulders relaxing, and they set off down the path toward the chief's village.
In the chief's village, Giturn returned to the building where Lisara resided, the air heavy with damp stone and faint torch smoke. He entered, his eyes widening as he saw her hanging from a rope, her body twitching. With a swift weave of hand signs, he sharpened his nails into claws, darted forward, and slashed the rope. Lisara fell, coughing and wheezing, her hands clutching her throat. Giturn reached for her, but she smacked his hand away, her gaze bitter.
"You deny me freedom," she rasped, her voice sharp, "and when I seek release, you deny that too. When can I choose for myself?"
Giturn stood silent, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the floor. A tense pause settled between them. "I know you didn't ask for this," he sighed, his voice low. "But I can't grant your request. Your death would bring too many consequences."
"Why can't I control my own life?" Lisara barked, her fists clenching. "Why is it always someone else's choice?"
"I don't know," Giturn mumbled, his posture stiff. "Perhaps your importance to others makes your actions carry such weight."
"To the ocean with them all," Lisara hissed, her eyes locking to the floor. "I'm tired, plagued by a life that's never mine. What's all this emptiness for?"
"You're right," Giturn said, sitting beside her on the cold stone floor, his smile faint. "Fate hasn't been kind to you. But my duty is to help my people first. Their needs guide me."
"I don't blame you, Giturn," Lisara said, her frown deepening. "I just wish my life meant more than this."
Giturn stared, his hands resting on his knees, torchlight flickering across the stone room. A goblin burst in, panting. "Chieftain!" he called. "Hemphie's returned, but he's in bad shape. He wishes to see you now."
Giturn rose, glancing at Lisara, who sat staring into the distance, her face blank. He ordered goblins to guard her room and check on her regularly, then sprinted to the medical ward. The air hummed with mana crystals' glow, sharp with antiseptic, as goblins tended wounds from black ant skirmishes. Giturn passed bowing goblins, entering the meeting room where Hemphie sat, his arm and half his face bandaged. Hemphie tried to bow, wincing, but Giturn motioned him to sit.
"Hemphie, what happened?" Giturn asked, his voice steady. "Where are the others?"
Hemphie clutched his side, his eyes darting to the floor. "We reached the chief and got him to consider peace," he said, his voice low. "He agreed to send envoys to negotiate and return his wife unharmed. All went well until we split at a passage." He paused, his shoulders slumping. "Forgive me, Chief. I misjudged. The envoys saw our captured elves in the mines and weren't pleased. A horned elf attacked—likely acting alone, as the envoys seemed unaware—but I thought we'd been betrayed, and a fight broke out."
Giturn sat beside him, his hand resting on Hemphie's shoulder. "The envoys I was with were good-natured," Hemphie continued, his frown deepening. "They meant to help, but I lost control. The goblins attacked the villagers. I forced an impossible choice and punished them for it."
"You did your best, Hemphie," Giturn said, his smile faint. "If these envoys are as you say, we may yet salvage peace."
"Peace is dead!" a voice shouted. Kokutafa and Miograce stormed in, the air crackling with tension. Giturn rose, his eyes narrowing at Miograce's golden gaze and golden hair. "These envoys never intended to work with us," Kokutafa spat. "It was a plan to eradicate us from these caves."
"Is that so?" Giturn growled. "Where's Kamitafa? Was she split from you too?"
Kokutafa hung her head, avoiding his gaze. "She's dead," she hissed. "Your good-natured envoys killed her."
Giturn's fists clenched, his eyes widening. Hemphie stared at Kokutafa, his expression vacant. "Chief, may I ask Kokutafa something?" Hemphie said. Giturn nodded.
"What now, oaf?" Kokutafa frowned, her hand gripping her dagger's hilt. "Is something amiss?"
"Quite a few things," Hemphie growled, his shoulders stiffening. "You claim the envoys killed Kamitafa, yet you walk with one."
"This one means to help us," Kokutafa snapped, her lips trembling. "It's by her grace we've made it this far."
"I fear it's by her 'grace' we're in this mess," Hemphie hissed, eyeing Miograce's calm smirk. "Is your transformation part of this 'help'?"
"Speak plainly, fool," Kokutafa said, her fingers tightening on her dagger.
"You and this priest talked plenty in the village," Hemphie said, his voice rising. "I believe you helped her split our group. You were with Kamitafa and the rogue—outnumbering him two to one—yet you lost?"
"He used Kamitafa's mind against her," Kokutafa countered, her eyes darting to the floor. "Her lack of calm cost us."
"Or she saw you for what you really are," Hemphie glared. "Even Kamitafa couldn't bear her sister's betrayal."
"You're saying these blackguards can murder our kin, and you're still blind?" Kokutafa bellowed, her fists shaking. "This was their plan, you deluded ape! Our kin's blood is on your hands for this madness—"
"Silence!" Giturn barked, his voice booming, echoing off the stone walls. Kokutafa's lips quivered, her eyes widened. "I see you for what you are. Your presence fuels my urge to raze you. You used Kamitafa as a martyr to push us to war. For your vile acts, you're exiled."
Kokutafa's eyes widened, her breath hitching. Miograce's lips curled into a faint smile. "You insignificant fool," Kokutafa howled, drawing her daggers, their blades glinting in the crystal light. "Have you any idea what I've sacrificed for our kin? You'll kill us all!"
"Be thankful I don't end you where you stand," Giturn bellowed, his fists trembling. "You're dismissed."
Kokutafa lunged, but Miograce touched her cheek, whispering softly, pecking her gently. Kokutafa nodded hesitantly and fled the ward. Miograce turned, her golden eyes glinting.
"Now that my blessing is gone," she said, "we can introduce ourselves. I am Miograce, the Malevian." She paused, looking down, her shoulders easing with a slow breath. "No, I am your salvation."
"Excuse me?" Giturn glared, his fists clenching.
"You must see your kin's end approaches," Miograce said, her smirk widening. "They've likely razed the other village too. The peace you crave is dead."
"Thanks to your influence," Hemphie growled, his eyes narrowing.
"This was for your benefit, I assure you," Miograce affirmed, her voice smooth. Giturn approached, towering over her tall frame, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Choose your next words carefully, elf," he hissed.
Miograce locked eyes, unfazed. "Peace or not, the Inquisition's threat remains," she said, her grin stretching. "That measly village could never shield you from their wrath."
"What does that justify in my kin's slaughter?" Giturn barked, his voice echoing.
"It's the only way you'll see," Miograce argued, leaning closer, her smile sharp. "Now, with your kin on the brink, you must choose: let them die here or live through me. I'll grant them a land of grace and kindness, preserving your legacy."
"You've said enough, vile temptress," Giturn growled, weaving hand signs as fur sprouted across his body. "I won't let you turn my kind into your tools. This ends now."
Miograce sighed, her smile twitching into a frown as she rolled up her sleeves. "I detest violence," she said, her voice bitter, "but a show of force is sometime the greatest leverage." A tense hush fell. Goblins begin to crowd around the medical world as the chatter and gossip run rampant when suddenly, the ward's wall exploded, dust and stone scattering. Giturn flew out, landing slumped against a wall. Miograce strode over, gripped his head, and lifted him to eye level.
"Do you understand, meager chieftain?" she smirked. "You're nothing to perfection's march, a footnote in our world."
Lisara pushed through the crowding goblins, her stance frozen. Giturn gasped, struggling as Miograce's eyes snapped to her, releasing him. He grabbed her arm, but she slammed him down, stomping his head until he let go. "Desperation doesn't befit you, Chieftain," she said, strolling toward Lisara.
The goblins surged forward, but Miograce clasped her hands, unleashing a divine pulse that shoved them back, forming a shimmering barrier around her and Lisara. "I see you," Miograce said, cradling Lisara's cheeks, her smile softening. "You seek life but find only chains. My grace will grant your release."
Lisara glanced at Giturn, stumbling to his feet with Hemphie's aid. Their eyes locked, and she smiled, muttering, "Finally." A wave of divine mana rippled through her, and her body went limp, unconscious. Miograce held her, smirking. "All is in place," she said, licking her lips. "Let the final act begin."