The first light of dawn began to break across the scarred horizon, a faint wash of silver and pale gold creeping over the ashen sky. The air was heavy with dew, and though the land was barren, a strange stillness lingered as if the world itself was holding its breath. The campfires had dwindled into faint embers, curling smoke lazily into the air. The mana practitioners, elves, and Nullcarvers were already beginning to stir, their faces drawn, their hearts weighed down by the enormity of the task that awaited them beyond the border.

Kaelen stood slightly apart, watching the faint glow of the morning sun rise over the barren stretch of ground they had crossed. He turned then, his gaze settling on the foxkin girl who sat quietly under a cloak, her amber eyes reflecting both fear and stubbornness. The night before, she had caused quite the stir when she stumbled into their camp, protected only by her insistence and Kelvin's unwavering defense of her. But Kaelen knew—no matter her will—that this battlefield was not a place for her.

Taking a quiet breath, he walked toward her, his shadow stretching long in the morning light. Neana, who had already been watching over the girl with sharp, calculating eyes, rose to meet him halfway.

"You're going to ask me," Neana said flatly, her voice calm but edged with reluctance.

Kaelen's eyes softened, though his tone carried firm resolve. "She shouldn't be here. You know that as well as I do, Neana. This isn't her war to fight. The weight of what awaits us…" His words trailed off, heavy with meaning. He crouched slightly, leveling his gaze with the foxkin girl's. "You've shown courage by coming this far. But courage isn't always about standing at the front. Sometimes it's about surviving—living to carry the memory of those who fall."

The foxkin girl's ears flattened slightly, her lips parting as if to protest, but Kaelen placed a steady hand on her shoulder. His voice dropped lower, quiet yet unshakable. "If you stay, I cannot promise you safety. If you go, you will still be part of this battle. You'll carry the stories of what we fight for… and perhaps, be one of the seeds of what comes after."

Neana's jaw tightened as she crossed her arms. "And you would have me abandon the front lines to become her escort? We are stretched thin already, Kaelen."

Kaelen stood, meeting Neana's stern glare with equal firmness. "Yes. Because she is more vulnerable than all of us combined. Because if something happened to her here, it would be nothing but meaningless loss. And because I trust you, Neana—more than anyone else—to make sure she reaches Eldoria safely."

The camp had grown quiet as the exchange lingered. The foxkin girl's eyes shimmered, caught between defiance and sorrow, while Neana's gaze burned with the weight of responsibility. Finally, the elder Nullcarver released a long breath, her arms dropping to her sides.

"You have a dangerous talent for persuasion, Kaelen Dragonyx," Neana muttered, though her tone softened. "Very well. I will see her back. But you owe me—and you will make sure this sacrifice isn't for nothing."

Kaelen bowed his head gratefully. "You have my word."

Neana gave the foxkin girl a small nod, and though she looked reluctant, the girl rose, clinging briefly to Kelvin before finally relenting. At that moment, although he was being scrutinized by Lila which made him to smile bitterly, he still asked the foxkin girl.

"That reminds me, I never asked for your name"

"It's Roselle..... Roselle Darwin" the foxkin girl quickly replied with a light and hallow smile on her face. But Kaelen didn't have the time to dwell on that reaction as he said. "Well Roselle, hope you have a safe trip back to my homeland"

When Neana led the foxkin girl away, Kaelen turned back to the camp, where every gaze was now fixed on him. The silence was thick, filled with both fear and determination, until Kaelen stepped onto a small rise of earth and let his voice carry across them all.

"Brothers. Sisters. Friends of Eldoria." His words cut the quiet like a blade. "We stand on the edge of the darkest shadow this world has ever known. Endless waits for us, not as a man—not even as a tyrant—but as something more. The Eternals warned us he has ascended into a demigod. And still, we march."

The people shifted uneasily, their armor clinking, their breaths misting in the morning air. Kaelen's gaze hardened, but his tone deepened with solemn conviction.

"Look around you. The land is barren. The kingdoms are gone. We passed the silence of Valoria. We crossed where the elves once thrived. We walked the Deadroot forest, where no bird sang, no beast stirred. This is what Endless has left us. Nothing. Emptiness. But here—here we stand, and we are not empty."

He drew the Blade of Eternity, its royal blue glow sparking faintly in the dim dawn. The sight of it caused a hush to fall over them, its light a reminder of their fragile hope.

"We are the last voice of Eldoria, the last fire of the elves, the last defiance of the Nullcarvers. We are the memory of those who fell—and the promise of those yet to come. Endless may be a demigod, but he is not Eternity. He is not fate. He is not the will of this world. He is only power. And power—" Kaelen raised the blade, its glow casting their faces in ethereal light, "—is nothing without those who have the will to fight against it."

The camp stirred, voices murmuring, fists tightening, eyes brightening with grim resolve.

"So today," Kaelen said, lowering the blade with calm finality, "we march into the jaws of the abyss. Not because we expect to return. Not because we are fearless. But because someone must. And if we fall, let the world know we fell standing—so that tomorrow, there will still be a chance for light."

The silence that followed was absolute—then broken by the sound of blades being unsheathed, of staves being grounded into the earth, of voices rising in steady agreement.

"For Aetheris!!"

"For Aetheris!!!"

Kaelen sheathed his blade and gave a final nod. "To the Land of the Labyrinth and Abyss, then. To meet Endless."

And with that, as the morning sun fully broke the horizon, Kaelen's army gathered their strength and began their solemn march forward.

-------

The march was long, the silence between them heavier than their armor and cloaks. The sun had risen fully now, but its warmth did not reach them here. The air itself grew darker with each step, thick with a stale, metallic tang as though the land had bled dry. Jagged black stone jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and the horizon ahead was veiled in a shroud of shifting mist.

They had finally reached it—the outer region of Endless' domain. The threshold of the Land of the Labyrinth and Abyss.

Kaelen slowed his steps, his boots grinding over brittle earth. The others followed suit, their gazes wary. Even without words, all of them could feel it—the oppressive presence that seeped from the ground, from the air, from the very shadows that clung to the land.

Then came the sound.

At first, faint—like scraping claws. Then louder. Heavier. The ground began to tremble beneath their feet, carrying the rhythm of marching bodies. Shapes emerged from the mist ahead, twisted silhouettes of unnatural bulk. And then they saw them.

The Labyrinth Creatures.

Dozens of them. Hulking things with sinewy limbs, armored hides that pulsed with dark veins, their faces masks of nightmare—horns, tusks, mandibles clicking in hunger. They moved with eerie coordination, eyes glowing with that abyssal crimson that marked Endless' dominion.

Behind them marched a smaller force of goblins, their ragged armor bearing crude emblems painted in black and blood, their eyes feral. Scattered among them stood a handful of orcs, massive and broad-shouldered, their green skin marred by scars and ritual brands. The air thickened with their snarls and guttural roars.

And at the head of them all—stood Aron.

Kaelen's breath stilled. He remembered Aron as one of the Chaos Twins—mocking, cunning, dangerous, but still mortal. Yet now… now Aron was something else entirely.

His frame had grown taller, more angular, wrapped in jagged armor that seemed forged from the very walls of the Labyrinth. Dark energy rippled off him in waves, his once mischievous grin now twisted into a jagged leer of malice. His eyes glowed with unnatural intensity, twin embers of chaos burning like black fire.

"Aron…" Kaelen muttered under his breath, his tone flat, unreadable.

Aron spread his arms wide, as though welcoming them into the jaws of death itself. "At last, the Dragonyx family traitor arrives," he drawled, his voice deeper, distorted by the abyss. "I was beginning to wonder if you would crawl all the way here, or if Endless would have to drag your corpse across the dirt himself."

The armies behind Kaelen shifted, blades raising, murmurs rippling through them. The elves tensed their bows, the Nullcarvers adjusted their stances, and the Grey family's warriors locked shields. Yet through it all, Kaelen remained still, his expression dangerously calm.

His gaze locked on Aron with the focus of a drawn blade. "Where is Endless?"

The question cut through the air like steel. The soldiers of Eldoria flinched slightly at the coldness of Kaelen's voice.

Aron's grin widened, baring teeth too sharp to be natural. He tilted his head, almost mockingly. "Where is Endless, he asks?" He chuckled, low and cruel, before throwing his head back with a laugh that echoed across the barren land. His voice was laced with venom, with delight at the coming bloodshed.

"Oh, Kaelen Dragonyx… you've grown bold. But boldness alone won't carry you through these gates." Aron's hand flexed, and from his palm, dark energy lashed into the air like writhing tendrils. His laughter died into a smirk as his crimson eyes narrowed.

"If you want to see Endless… if you truly think you are ready to face him…" He stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath his armored boots. His shadow seemed to stretch unnaturally long, swallowing the light around him.

"Then you'll have to step over my dead body first."

He raised his arm high, and with a guttural roar, the goblins and orcs howled in unison while the Labyrinth Creatures slammed their claws and weapons into the ground, shaking the earth like a war drum.

The field before them quaked with the sound of a thousand heartbeats preparing for slaughter.

Kaelen's hand moved slowly, deliberately, to the hilt of the Blade of Eternity at his side. The sword whispered against its sheath, glowing faintly as if it already knew the taste of the battle ahead. His calm did not break—his voice, cold and steady, carried across the field.

"So be it."