A suffocating stillness spread across the other camp, standing in sharp contrast to the frantic preparations happening on the other side of the battlefield, in Michael’s camp. No shouting or disorganized movent here. Only a quiet and controlled anticipation lingered in the air, as if everything had already been decided long before the first clash would begin.
Red stood at the very front, just a few steps before the gate that separated his forces from the open field beyond.
His posture remained completely still. But the space around him felt anything but calm. His head tilted slightly upward, his gaze fixed on the distant sky, as if he was listening to sothing no one else could hear.
At his side, a short sword rested against his hip.
Its black and deep purple blade looked as though it had been forged from materials that did not belong to this world. Thin streams of Ether mist curled from it continuously and it was visible even to the naked eye. The colors change between a dark violet and a burning orange that intertwines as they bled into the surrounding air.
The mist didn’t dissipate like normal Ether. It lingered and moved with intent, coiling and stretching like tentacles.
Every breath that the others took near it felt heavier.
Behind him, his troops stood in formation. So adjusted their grip on their weapons while others remained completely still with their eyes fixed forward. No one said anything.
But their attention wasn’t on the battlefield.
It was on him.
There was apprehension in their expressions, clear and undeniable. The kind that ca from standing too close to sothing dangerous. Sothing they couldn’t fully understand.
And yet, beneath that fear, there was sothing else: Reverence.
They had seen his growth. They had felt the change. Every battle, every mont since he had begun to change, his strength had risen at a pace that no one else could follow. It wasn’t just improvent. It was a transformation. And in this world, a transformation like that ant a good thing.
To them, Red was no longer just a leader. He was the guarantee of victory. As long as he stood at the front, they believed they could not lose.
A faint sound of crack broke the silence.
It was subtle, almost easy to miss, but it ca from Red himself.
The skin along his arm squird slightly as if sothing beneath it had moved. Thin lines that glowing faintly with a deep crimson light appeared for a brief mont under the surface before fading again.
Red didn’t react. But the change didn’t stop there.
His breathing slowed and beca unnaturally steady, while a faint heat began to radiate from his body. Not enough to burn, but enough to be felt by those closest to him.
His veins pulsed beneath his skin with that sa crimson glow and spread slowly like sothing that was taking a deeper root and begin changin the structure of his body.
His eyes lowered from the sky. For a mont the color changed.
The whites of his eyes dulled slightly, overtaken by a faint tint of red, while his pupils tightened into a more focused and far less human shape.
The corners of his lips lifted just slightly. The presence around him thickened.
The Blood Sun Embryo had already begun to take hold into this new vessel and Red gladly accepted it.
Peter walked to him and said. "Everything is ready."
"Move."
Red and his troops finally moved.
—
Michael stood at the very front of the crystal wall, his figure outlined against the pale light as his eyes fixed toward the north.
The wind brushed past him, carrying a faint heat that didn’t belong to this distance, and even before anything ca into view the tension had already settled deep into his chest.
Behind him, Rafe, Tobias, Darius, Selene, and Hana stood in a loose formation, their stances tight and ready. None of them spoke. Their gazes remained locked ahead. Their bodies already prepared for what was coming even if their minds weren’t fully there yet.
Beside Michael stood a boy with a small and fragile build. His fra looked almost out of place among fighters.
His shoulders narrow, his hands slightly trembling despite the way he tried to keep them steady. Yet the faint glow beneath his feet and along the edges of the towering structure beneath them told a different story.
The crystal wall.
It stretched across the camp like a barrier carved from solid light. The was translucent yet firm. Its surface shimring with layered Ether. Every line and edge carried the boy’s presence. It was his creation. His ability.
And it was the only thing standing between them and what was coming.
"This is it, huh..." the boy said quietly, his voice barely steady as he looked out into the distance.
"Yes," Michael replied.
His tone remained calm, but his eyes didn’t soften. He kept them fixed forward as if refusing to let anything else show.
The boy swallowed. He shifted his weight slightly. His fingers curled into his sleeves as he tried to hide the trembling that refused to stop.
He had been one of the survivors Michael pulled from Red’s camp. One of the few who managed to escape that place alive.
Even now, the mory hasn’t left him.
"Do you... think we can win?" the boy asked, his voice lower this ti, almost hesitant.
He tried to keep it together and tried to sound normal. But the fear seeped through anyway.
Michael turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on him for a few seconds. For a second, the tightness in his expression loosened, just enough for him to form a small smile.
"We will," he said. The words ca out steady. But deep inside, the conviction in his heart didn’t match it.
He felt the uncertainty. The weight pressing against him, growing heavier the closer this mont ca.
But he didn’t let it show. He couldn’t.
The boy looked at him, searching his face for sothing, anything to hold onto. Then he nodded slowly, forcing a small smile of his own.
"As long as I keep this wall up... they won’t be able to break through," he said, his voice carrying a fragile confidence.
Michael gave a short nod. "Yeah."
For a brief mont, silence settled again.
"I see them."
The voice ca from one of the others behind them, sharp and imdiate.
Every head turned at once.
Their gazes snapped forward and then they saw it.
A line of figures erging from the distance.
At the very front, a single figure walked ahead of the rest, his pace steady and unhurried, as if the battlefield already belonged to him.
Behind him, the army followed.
The mont they ca into view, sothing inside everyone on the wall tightened.
Their hearts trembled.
Even from this distance, the pressure reached them.
—
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