[Third Person].
At the sa ti, another force carved its way through the war.
Draven moved like sothing untethered. There was no hesitation in him anymore, no restraint held back for the sake of control or appearance.
He tore through a line of vampires, his claws ripping through one before turning instantly to the next, his movents never slowing, never faltering.
Blood stained the ground beneath him, but he didn’t stop. Because even as he fought, his gaze kept flickering across the battlefield again and again, always returning to redith.
Every ti the pressure around her increased, he felt it. Every ti she drew more attention, he adjusted.
At one point, a cluster of enemies closed in on her from behind, their approach masked by the chaos of the fight, but Draven saw it.
In an instant, he broke away from his current position, moving faster than most could track, intercepting them before they could reach her.
The attack never landed. Bodies fell before they got close enough.
redith didn’t turn, but she knew. She always knew.
From afar, Estella, who had just beheaded a Beta wolf with her claws, cast her gaze on redith.
She let it linger on the shielding, the control, and the way she moved between defense and attack without losing balance.
Then her attention shifted to Draven. She watched him tear through her forces, and just then, her expression changed as she noticed the pattern.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed the pattern. Even in the middle of his assault, Draven’s attention never fully left redith. He moved with purpose, not just to destroy, but to protect.
Estella exhaled slowly, then clicked her tongue. "Tsk. Tsk... I need to take you out."
The decision was made, so she stepped forward.
The battlefield seed to shift as her presence fully entered it, her aura cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Those closest to her instinctively moved aside, creating space without being told.
Right then, her eyes locked onto him. "Draven." Her voice carried.
Even through the noise and the war, he heard it, and he stopped only for a mont, but it was enough.
His gaze found her imdiately.
The battlefield around them continued, but between them, sothing else settled—focus, recognition and intent.
Then Estella moved first. She closed the distance with terrifying speed, her attack direct, precise, and ant to kill.
Draven t her head-on, their collision sending a shock through the space around them as power t power without restraint.
Their fight began without preamble.
Estella struck fast, her movents fluid and calculated, every attack aid with purpose. Draven countered with equal force, his responses sharp, adaptive, eting her speed with his own.
Claw t claw, and force t force.
"You have changed," Estella said as she moved, her tone almost conversational despite the violence of her attacks.
"So have you," Draven replied, deflecting her strike before driving his own forward.
She twisted away, her lips curving faintly. "Not enough."
They clashed again, faster this ti. But around them, the war continued.
---
The battlefield had reached its breaking point.
What had once been controlled lines and calculated advances had dissolved into sothing far more volatile.
The ground was marked by the fallen, the air thick with the scent of blood and ash, and yet the fighting did not slow. If anything, it intensified.
The humans had adapted. Their initial shock at redith’s resistance had faded, replaced by coordination.
They repositioned quickly, forming tighter clusters, their weapons raised with sharper intent. This ti, they fired together rather than in scattered bursts.
A coordinated volley tore through the battlefield, bullets cutting forward in a dense, relentless wave that no single shield could easily withstand.
Several wolves were struck before they could evade, their advance faltering under the sudden pressure.
The montum began to shift.
redith felt the strain and the imbalance imdiately.
Her eyes sharpened as she took in the spread of human units, the way they adjusted angles, the way they compensated for her previous defenses.
If this continued, Stormveil’s forces would be forced back.
With this knowledge, she stepped forward again. The energy within her surged with a depth it had not known before. It responded to her fully now, as sothing that was hers.
Her hand lifted slowly, and everything changed. At first, it was subtle.
The weapons in the hands of the human soldiers trembled. A few faltered, confused, and tightened their grip.
Then, every firearm on the field lifted.
Hundreds of weapons were pulled from their owners’ hands at once, rising into the air as though caught in an invisible current. The motion was precise, controlled, and overwhelming.
Gasps broke through the battlefield.
The humans stared upward, disbelief flashing across their faces as their advantage vanished in an instant.
redith’s expression did not change. Her hand closed, and the weapons bent.
tal warped under invisible pressure, crushing inward, twisting into useless forms before being flung together into a single, collapsing mass high above the battlefield. Then, with a sharp motion, she released it.
The heap of destroyed weapons dropped heavily to the ground.
A brief, stunned silence followed. Then, panic started sweeping through.
The human soldiers, now disard, faltered imdiately. Their formations broke, their confidence shattered, leaving them exposed in a way they had not anticipated.
The wolves surged forward again, with the advantage shifting completely.
From across the battlefield, Estella saw it and temporarily broke free from Draven.
Her expression hardened instantly. "Impossible..." she muttered under her breath.
Her gaze locked onto redith, eyes narrowing as she watched the aftermath unfold. The ease, the control, the sheer scale of what she had just done—it was beyond what she had anticipated.
Fury rose sharply within her.
"Kill her. Now!" Estella ordered, her voice cutting through the battlefield like a blade.
The command spread instantly. Vampires started redirecting.
Dozens, even more, began moving towards redith at once, abandoning other engagents for a single objective.
She had beco the centre of the war once more.
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