[POV Liselotte]
The air in the lower levels of the castle was frigid—but not because of me. It was a stagnant cold, carrying the scent of ancient stone and secrets meant only for the royal bloodline of Whirikal. The mana torches along the walls flickered weakly, struggling against the darkness that seemed to seep through cracks in the ceiling. Behind me, the survivors’ ragged breathing formed a faint mist in the air.
We had abandoned the surface only minutes ago. Elliot, his face hardened by remorse and newfound resolve, led the center of the column alongside Leah. The heroes of Terra moved in tight formation, protecting a small group of servants and scribes whom the Crystal of Memory had managed to free before exhausting itself. As always, I took the vanguard—the cold presence carving a path through the blackness of the tunnels.
“How much farther, brother?” Leah whispered. Her voice echoed along the curved walls, sounding smaller than she would have liked.
“The Judgment Tunnels stretch for miles beneath the city’s moat,” Elliot replied without turning. His right hand never left the hilt of his sword. “They were designed so the royal family could escape if the city fell. Ironically, we never thought we would be fleeing from our own people.”
I stopped abruptly, raising a gloved hand. The metal of my light armor let out a faint creak.
“Silence,” I ordered. My voice was no more than a breath of polar air.
I closed my eyes and expanded my perception. The mana here was unstable, but I managed to detect rhythmic vibrations.
Footsteps.
Many footsteps.
Not the dragging, clumsy movements of the possessed students above. These were precise, measured—accompanied by the metallic clink of chainmail and the brushing of heavy cloaks against stone.
“Royal guards,” I murmured, opening my eyes. My emerald gaze glinted in the gloom. “They’re coming from the side branches. The enemy knows the evacuation tunnels.”
“That’s impossible,” Elliot hissed, stepping forward. “Only the captains of the Golden Guard and the royal family know these passages.”
“The Shadow doesn’t need maps if it can read your captains’ minds, Elliot,” I replied bluntly, making his jaw tighten. “They’re coming for us. And they’re not here to negotiate.”
The tunnel widened into a circular intersection—a stone node where three paths converged. From the shadows of the side tunnels, they emerged.
Twelve men.
The elite of Whirikal’s guard.
Their golden armor was tainted by the same darkness I had seen in the executor on the bridge. Their eyes were milky white voids, devoid of soul, moving with terrifying synchronization.
“Wait!” Leah cried, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. “I am Leah of Whirikal! Your princess! Stand down!”
The guards did not hesitate.
In unison, they drew their longswords.
The sound of steel leaving its sheath echoed like a funeral chorus.
“They can’t hear you, Leah,” I said, stepping between her and the attackers. “Their minds have been erased. They’re just tools of the Shadow now.”
“Lotte, don’t kill them!” Elliot pleaded, though his voice trembled with desperation. “They’re my best men… many of them have families…”
“I’ll try to be gentle—but I won’t promise miracles in the dark,” I replied.
I surged forward.
The first guard struck with a downward thrust that would have split a normal man in half. I slid beneath his guard, my feet barely touching the damp ground, and struck his wrist with the hilt of my dark crystal sword. The bone didn’t break—but the instant frost I generated numbed his nerves, forcing him to drop his weapon.
I pivoted, dodging a coordinated side attack from two others. They were fast—far faster than the students. The Shadow was using their existing combat skill and amplifying it with dark mana that erased fatigue and fear.
“Julian! Shield!” I shouted.
The shield hero reacted instantly, charging forward and blocking a three-man assault that aimed to flank me and reach Leah. The clash of steel against his sacred shield lit the tunnel with golden sparks.
“Mizuki! Immobilize their legs!” Leah ordered, finally accepting that words wouldn’t work.
The lancer moved like lightning, sweeping the guards’ feet with the shaft of her weapon. Meanwhile, I wove frost through the air. My hands traced intricate patterns, forming nearly invisible threads of ice that tangled around the joints of their golden armor.
“Arctic Crystal Prison!”
The vapor of our breath condensed instantly.
The royal guards froze in place—not as solid statues, but as if encased in a translucent, icy resin that prevented even the slightest movement. Their empty eyes remained fixed on us, but their bodies were sealed.
I exhaled sharply, feeling the strain. Holding twelve elite warriors alive while immobilizing them was far more exhausting than simply piercing their chests.
“Move—central tunnel,” Elliot said, his voice heavy with pain he couldn’t hide. “If the Shadow sent the royal guard down here, it means the palace has completely fallen.”
We ran for what felt like hours. The underground labyrinth grew narrower and wetter as we distanced ourselves from the city’s heart. Eventually, we reached a heavy iron door covered in moss and rust. Elliot inserted an ancient key, and with the combined effort of Arthur and Julian, the door gave way with a groan of corroded metal.
We emerged to the surface.
The cool night air hit our faces—but it brought no relief.
We stood in a dense forest, several kilometers from the capital’s walls. When we looked back, we saw Whirikal shrouded in a violet mist rising toward the clouds. The castle towers—once symbols of hope—now resembled black fangs against a blood-stained sky.
“It’s over…” Mizuki whispered, dropping her spear. “The capital… has fallen.”
“No,” Leah said, stepping beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “The capital is its people—and as long as we’re here, Whirikal still lives. We have to find my father.”
Elliot looked north, toward the mountains rising like sleeping giants.
“The Valley of Laments is two days away if we push hard,” he said. “It’s a zone of magical distortion, which means the Shadow will have more difficulty tracking our mana there. It’s our only chance.”
I stepped forward, brushing frost from my hands. My gaze drifted into the forest.
I knew we weren’t alone.
The Shadow would not let us escape so easily. We had fled the cage—but now we were in the hunting grounds.
“Chloé should be nearby,” I said, trying to sense any trace of her. “I asked her to watch the outer exits before everything collapsed.”
A distant howl—fierce and unmistakably familiar—echoed through the trees.
For the first time that night, Leah smiled.
“Looks like our wolf has been waiting for us,” she said.
“Don’t waste time,” Elliot ordered, reclaiming his commanding presence. “The Shadow already knows we’ve escaped. Whirikal has lost its throne—but the Lion still lives in the north. Let’s go find him.”
We stepped into the forest, leaving behind the city we once called home.
The journey to the Valley of Laments would test us all—but as I walked beside Leah, I felt the absolute cold in my heart steady itself.
No matter how many shadows tried to extinguish us—as long as the ice did not melt, the hope of Whirikal would continue to burn beneath the snow.
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