The cold morning wind blew hard at the top of the slope, carrying the scent of damp earth and the flowers growing among the rocks. The group emerged from the winding trail that traversed the mountain—exhausted, covered in dust, and with muscles tense from the running and battles of the past few days.

Kael was the first to reach the top. He paused for a moment, panting, and looked up at the horizon. His eyes narrowed.

Sylphie followed close behind, adjusting her bow on her back and wiping the sweat from her brow. Amelia leaned against a rock, breathing deeply, while Irelia helped the princess climb the last stretch. When they all arrived, they fell silent—for before them loomed the destination of their journey.

Azalith.

The city was colossal. Built around and atop a massive mountain, its towers seemed to touch the sky, and the walls formed a near-perfect circle, protecting the hundreds of buildings that stretched down to the base. At the top, a white and gold castle dominated the landscape—the legendary Azalith Academy, the heart of the continent's magical knowledge.

The morning sun illuminated the landscape, and for a brief moment, it seemed a picture of peace and majesty.

But the moment passed.

Because Kael saw what the others hadn't yet noticed.

Smoke.

Lots of smoke.

Thick gray columns rose from the lower districts, staining the blue sky black. The distant sound of explosions echoed even here, like muffled thunder. And when the wind shifted, it brought with it the smell of ash and burning iron.

"...no," Sylphie murmured, her eyes widening.

Amelia took two steps forward, opening her grimoire and expanding her vision with magic. "This isn't...possible..."

Irelia frowned. "What's going on down there?"

Kael, silent, already knew.

The walls.

He saw them—cracked, gaping, where the orange glow of flames escaped. Outside, a dark tide was moving. Grotesque creatures, their forms distorted, crawled toward the city. Stone wolves, mana beasts, golems, and... worse.

Monsters.

But not an organized attack.

It was wild chaos.

The city's defenses were gone. The gates were open—broken, perhaps blown apart.

Sylphie, beside him, used the same magic as Amelia and widened her eyes. "They're... magical creatures common to the region! The ones that live in the nearby forests and valleys..."

"Then why are they attacking?" the princess asked, frightened, clutching the fabric of her dress.

"Because something is calling them," Amelia replied, her voice tense. "Something strong enough to corrupt their instincts."

Kael took a deep breath. A heavy, tired breath—but his eyes... his eyes were different. Cold. Focused.

"I knew it," he muttered, almost to himself. "That damned place was always a bomb waiting to explode."

Irelia looked at him, confused. "Kael...?"

He didn't answer.

He just clenched his fist.

His gaze swept over the devastated city for a moment. A mixture of anger and frustration burned beneath the surface of his restrained expression. And then, he turned to the group.

"Protect the princess."

The four of them stared at him simultaneously.

"What?" Amelia asked in disbelief.

Kael stepped forward, the wind making his cloak flap. "Stay with her. Take her to safety. I'll go there."

"Kael, you can't be serious," Sylphie snapped, her voice shaking. "There are hundreds of monsters down there!"

"And I'm going to kill them all."

The answer came calmly. Simple. As if it were obvious.

Amelia frowned in shock. "This is suicide!"

"It's not," he replied, already checking the runes engraved on his arm gauntlet. "It's efficiency."

"Kael, listen!" Sylphie grabbed his arm, her gaze filled with urgency. "You can't solve everything alone! Not this time!"

He looked at her—straight into her eyes—and for an instant, she saw that same cold gleam from when she'd first met him.

"I won't let Azalith fall," he said. "Not again."

The words betrayed him—laden with weight, with memories he never mentioned. Sylphie felt her heart tighten.

"Kael…"

But he had already stepped away, gently releasing her arm.

"Stay here until I clear the way," he said, adjusting his sword at his back.

"You're not in charge of us!" Amelia snapped, stepping forward. "If you really think we're going to let you go alone—"

"It's not a choice, Amelia."

His tone cut like a blade. Firm, final.

For a second, no one moved. The wind blew hard, stirring their hair and cloaks, and the smell of smoke seemed to intensify with each heartbeat.

Irelia watched him carefully—and something in his expression changed. She knew arguing would be futile.

"How many minutes do you need?" she asked, adjusting her spear.

Kael turned, surprised by the question.

"If we're going to cover you, I want to know when we'll have to go after you," Irelia continued determinedly.

A faint smile crossed Kael's lips. "Ten."

Sylphie's eyes widened. "Ten minutes?! That's impossible!"

"It's not." He took a step back, looking at them all—one by one. "You just need to keep the princess alive. The rest… leave it to me."

Mana began to gather around him, vibrating in the air. The ground cracked beneath his feet. Blue and white sparks escaped between the stones, rising like small electric serpents.

The wind swirled, and the soft sound turned into a roar.

The princess, startled, took a step back. "What… what is he going to do?"

Amelia stared at her, the grimoire trembling in her hands. "Something stupid… and grand."

Kael lowered himself slightly, his hand resting on the ground. Mana exploded around him, expanding in concentric waves.

When he looked up again, his eyes glowed a deep silver.

"Azalith has been home to many," he said, his voice becoming something between human and ethereal. "It will not fall while I stand."

And then he leaped.

The ground exploded beneath his feet.

In a single thrust, Kael shot through the air like a bolt of lightning, streaking across the slope. The trees below bent under the impact of the wind, and leaves flew in swirls. The group only managed to follow him for a few seconds before he disappeared over the horizon—a silvery flash toward the burning city.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Only the distant sound of Azalith's magical explosions broke the air.

Sylphie still stared at him, her heart pounding. "He's going to die…"

"No," Irelia replied, without looking away. "He's going to kill everyone."

Amelia took a deep breath, closing the grimoire with a snap. "Then we'd better get moving. Let's fulfill his part."

The princess, still in shock, nodded slowly.

They began to descend the slope, following a side path—the same one Kael had used as an old escape route.

But as they advanced, Sylphie took one last look at the city.

And there, amidst the columns of smoke and the glow of the fire, she saw him.

Kael.

Leaping between rooftops, his sword slashed through the air with incredible precision. Each strike released a wave of silver mana that traveled dozens of meters, cutting through monsters like shadows. The light reflected off his figure, and for a moment, he seemed something else—something other than human.

"Kael…" she whispered.

The sound of the wind tearing through the air was almost deafening.

Kael streaked across the sky like a silver comet, his black cloak fluttering and leaving behind a trail of condensed mana. The heat from the explosions below shook the air, and each breath he took felt like a ton—but his eyes, cold and incandescent, were fixed on a single objective: Azalith.

The city he swore he would never see in ruins again.

The impact of his landing was enough to shake the ground.

Kael crashed into one of the outer towers of the wall, cracking the stone beneath his feet. The sight ahead was pure hell: the city gates were ablaze, and beastly creatures piled atop one another, trying to gain entry.

Mana wolves with crystalline bones, golems of living clay, spectral birds that screamed with human voices...

A mass of uncontrolled chaos.

Kael closed his eyes briefly—and the air shifted.

The temperature plummeted. The sound of the flames seemed to muffle.

When he opened his eyes again, the silver glow had mingled with a deep purple. The shadows around him lengthened, moving as if with a will of their own.

"Time to cleanse this plague."

He raised his sword—the blade reflected chaos, fire, and blood, but also a living, wild energy that seemed to feed on it all.

Kael advanced.

In a single movement, he vanished.

The air exploded behind him, and when he reappeared amidst the monsters, the blade was already in motion.

An arc of silver light sliced through the air—and everything before him simply vanished.

The creatures' bodies disintegrated, dissolved into a dark dust that the wind carried away.

But he didn't stop.

The shadows around him began to move independently, like mirrored specters. Kael's every movement created a dark reflection—fleeting copies that attacked alongside him. It was an impossible dance to follow: blows crossing from every angle, blades emerging from the ground, from the air, even from the creatures' own shadows.