The heat did not return.
Where there had once been flames, there were only embers left — scattered, unstable, pulsing in low tones of red beneath a layer of ash that still breathed.
The air, once violent, now felt forcibly contained, heavy as if every movement had to be allowed.
No one advanced.
The body did not respond in the usual way.
It wasn't pure fear — it was something deeper, older, like a limit pressing in from the outside.
She was at the center.
Motionless.
The presence did not diminish with stillness. On the contrary — it became clearer, more unbearable.
The space around her seemed slightly compressed, as if reality itself had been pulled a few inches closer than it should be.
The fissures along her body continued to move slowly, opening and closing in rhythms that followed no breath.
Something inside pressed. Not to get out — but as if being there was already restraint.
The eyes changed.
It wasn't a full movement.
Only the focus shifted — cutting across the field, passing through each of them without haste, without hesitation.
When the attention stopped—
the air yielded further.
It fell over Éreon like a weight that didn't come from above, but from within, as if something in him had been recognized before it was even observed.
The creature tilted its head slightly.
A minimal gesture.
Wrong.
The voice came after.
It didn't leave the mouth like a common sound — it moved through the space, low, dense, as if it were perceived before it was heard.
"The heat… does not belong to this place."
A short pause.
Not of doubt.
Of recognition.
"And yet… it remains."
The fissures along the neck opened a little more, releasing a contained glow that did not illuminate — it only bore down on the eyes of whoever tried to focus.
The eyes did not leave Éreon.
"Ancient."
The word carried no surprise.
It carried memory.
"And, still… divided."
The air around them sank a little more.
Karna did not draw the string.
Telvaris did not move.
Even the sound of the embers seemed to diminish as if the whole space was waiting for the next movement no one there controlled.
The silence remained heavy after the last word.
No one answered.
There was no need.
Her presence still occupied everything — the air, the space, the interval between one thought and the next.
The focus shifted.
Not onto them.
Beyond.
The head turned slowly, at an angle that did not seem to fully obey the structure of its own body, until the gaze fixed toward the west.
For a moment, nothing happened.
But the air… yielded.
As if something in that direction had been perceived before fully existing.
The fissures along the body contracted, then expanded in a single denser pulse, like an internal response.
The voice came again.
Lower.
More distant.
"There is still… a bond."
The pause was not long.
It was heavy.
"Something that must be fulfilled."
The weight in the environment shifted.
It did not lessen.
It moved.
The embers on the ground began to vibrate slightly, ash being lifted in short, circular motions, as if the air around the creature had begun to turn — not by wind, but by presence.
Dry leaves were pulled from the ground.
First few.
Then many.
Spinning around her in a growing flow, forming an irregular circle that obeyed no known direction.
The space at the center began to fail.
Not like a rupture.
Like absence.
The creature's form did not unravel.
It simply stopped being held.
The fissures opened one last time — wider, more unstable — and the internal glow pressed outward for a single instant that did not quite light the surroundings.
Then—
it ceased.
No sound.
No displacement.
No trace.
The leaves lost strength and fell.
The ash returned to the ground.
The air… broke loose.
All at once.
Heavy.
As if something that held it had been removed without warning.
Karna was the first to move.
Not a step — just enough for the body to return to its own axis, fingers still close to the string, as if the shot could happen at any moment.
He let the air out through his nose, short, controlled, eyes still locked on the empty point where the creature had been.
"I've seen strange things… but that—"
He shook his head once, minimal.
His gaze left the void and found Éreon.
Direct.
No detour.
"What was that?"
The silence that followed did not last.
Isabela's blade was already at Éreon's neck before any answer could take shape.
Clean movement.
No warning.
The steel rested sideways, precise enough not to cut — but close enough that any wrong breath would settle it.
"Funny." her voice came low, firm, with a slight trace of contained irony "She crosses the entire field… looks straight at you… speaks as if she already knows you…"
The blade pressed a millimeter more.
"Speak… before I decide to settle the doubt… another way."
Karna didn't take long.
The bow was already raised, the string drawn in the same motion, the arrow aligned directly with Isabela's face.
"Don't." the voice came low, but firm "At this distance, you don't dodge."
His gaze did not leave her.
"And I don't miss twice in the same day."
The air grew heavy again between the three.
Different from before.
Less crushing.
More… unstable.
Now it wasn't only the absence of the creature occupying the space.
It was them.
Telvaris stood up without haste.
The movement was direct, economical, as if each gesture had already been decided before it even happened.
His eyes passed over the empty space one last time, then fixed on Isabela — assessing, measuring, discarding excess.
"He has no connection to that."
A short pause.
"This is the count's doing."
Isabela did not pull the blade away.
Her gaze did not leave Éreon.
"Curious." low, measured "Because, from what I witnessed… that's not how it seemed."
The blade remained steady.
The silence stretched for a moment.
"And yet… you expect me to accept that as coincidence?"
Telvaris did not change posture.
"What you interpret does not alter the fact." he said, unhurried "We are here for the same objective."
His eyes remained firm.
"Therefore, restrain yourself."
"Restrain myself?" the tone did not rise, but hardened with elegant coldness "Tell that to the villages that were reduced to ash."
A pause.
"Perhaps they still have something to hear."
Telvaris's eyes narrowed.
Not out of irritation.
Out of decision.
The air around them shifted.
Fragments of metal scattered across the field began to vibrate, at first lightly, then with growing tension.
Small shards lifted a few millimeters off the ground.
The blade at Éreon's neck responded along with it, trembling under an invisible force.
Telvaris did not raise his tone.
"I'll repeat." the voice came lower, colder "Restrain yourself."
The pressure in the environment increased.
"You are at a disadvantage."
Isabela did not withdraw immediately.
Her eyes moved.
Quick.
Calculating.
Karna still with the bow raised.
Telvaris steady.
Éreon motionless.
The metal vibrating.
She let the air out slowly.
"I may have moved too soon." she said, without losing posture "My knights are already on their way."
Telvaris tilted his head slightly.
"They are." he confirmed "What matters now is whether they arrive in time."
A pause.
"Enough time… to eliminate you and withdraw before they interfere."
Silence returned.
Denser.
Their gazes locked.
None yielded.
Then—
Isabela pulled the blade away.
Without looking away.
Telvaris did not move.
But the metal around them ceased at the same instant.
The fragments fell.
The blade stabilized.
He glanced to the side.
Karna understood.
The bow lowered slowly.
The string relaxed.
Isabela did not lower the blade completely.
Her gaze moved across the three with calculated coldness, lingering the exact time on each, like someone deciding value before judging usefulness.
"Trust is not something I grant."
Her eyes remained firm.
"So start justifying why I should make an exception."
Telvaris answered without haste.
"I believe you are already aware of what occurred at the Blackthorn Orphanage."
The shift was subtle.
But enough.
Isabela did not look away.
"The entire Empire is."
A short pause.
"The demigod Moroz intervened, injuring an Imperial Archduke."
Her gaze narrowed slightly.
"Continue."
Telvaris held the silence for a moment longer than necessary.
"We were there."
Isabela remained motionless.
But the air around her… changed.
"That contradicts all reports." she said at last "It was declared that there were no survivors."
Karna let out a light breath through his nose, tilting his head to the side.
"Yeah… then someone should start checking their sources better."
The tone wasn't disrespectful.
But it didn't ask permission either.
"Because, from where I'm standing… we're right here."
He turned the bow slightly in his hand, without tension.
"And if everyone here wants the same thing… maybe it's better to stop arguing about who's lying."
His gaze flicked briefly to where the creature had been.
"And start figuring out what that thing wants… before we become part of it."
Isabela did not respond immediately.
Her gaze returned to the field.
Then to Éreon.
It remained there for a moment longer.
"I do not trust you." she said, low, firm "But, if what you claim is true…"
A pause.
"And considering what that entity declared… about something that must be fulfilled…"
"Western Marquisate." Telvaris cut in, direct.
Karna turned his head at once.
"No… no, you've got to be kidding."
He let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"You felt that. Everyone felt it."
His expression hardened slightly.
"If that thing is heading there… we have no power to stop it."
Telvaris did not hesitate.
"Correct."
The word came dry.
"Karna is right."
Silence formed.
Short.
Heavy.
Then—
Éreon moved.
His hand rose with exact precision.
The shadows around responded immediately, gathering around his fingers as if they had been waiting for the command.
The crow took shape without rupture — it simply began to exist.
Its wings opened in absolute silence.
And it departed.
Direct.
Toward the west.
Telvaris followed its path with his eyes.
Unhurried.
Without surprise.
"Are you going to insist on this?"
The voice came low.
Éreon did not answer immediately.
He held the gaze for a few seconds.
Silence.
Then he turned.
The movement was simple — but definitive.
Telvaris acted before the second step.
His hand closed around his arm.
Firm.
Without hesitation.
Éreon stopped.
Not by force.
By choice.
He glanced sideways.
Black eyes met Telvaris's golden ones.
Neither yielded.
"In the county, you acted as you wished." Telvaris's voice remained controlled, precise "Here it's different."
He slightly raised his own arm.
The sleeve receded just enough.
The dark engraving marked the skin — ancient lines intertwining in exact patterns, forming a crow with open wings at the center of a rigid, almost absolute geometry.
It wasn't a symbol.
It was a bond.
"We made an oath."
Short.
Without unnecessary emphasis.
"It's not optional."
Éreon's gaze dropped for a brief instant.
He recognized it.
Nothing changed in his expression.
"Then return."
Telvaris's fingers tightened slightly on his arm.
Silence.
Short.
Enough.
"Reversum."
The word did not echo.
It sank.
The shadows beneath Éreon's feet responded at once — not expanding, but aligning, as if they found something that already existed there.
A mark.
Invisible at first glance, but present — engraved in the shadows, old enough not to be noticed in the flow of battle.
Space did not fold.
It gave way to something else.It was a swap.
No displacement.
Éreon's body disappeared at the exact point where it stood—
and, in the same instant, something took its place.
A crow.
Wings already open, as if it had been there the whole time, merely waiting for the moment to exist.
There was no delay between one and the other.
Telvaris kept his gaze on the trajectory for a second longer than he should have.
Then lowered his focus.
The crow was on the ground before him.
Motionless for a moment too brief.
"That is suicide."
The voice came low.
Heavier.
"He is advancing straight toward his own death."
Isabela did not comment.
She watched in silence.
Then brought a hand to her own neck.
Her fingers closed around the chain for a brief moment — as if weighing the gesture — before pulling it.
The medal came with it.
Cold metal.
Engraved with the symbol of a valkyrie.
She did not hesitate.
She threw it toward Karna.
The whistle came right after.
Short.
Precise.
The sound split the air — and was answered.
A horse emerged from the trees, breaking into the space with the certainty of one that already knew the path.
There was no surprise in the movement.
Only arrival.
Isabela reached it in two steps and mounted with fluidity, adjusting the reins in the same motion.
"Show this to your knights." she said, without looking back "And nothing will happen to them."
Then she departed.
In the same direction.
West.
Karna remained silent for a moment, looking at Telvaris.
The tension still held in his body.
"Tel…"
Telvaris cut him off before he continued.
"He has always been like this."
A pause.
"There was never space for anyone else."
"Only his own will."
"And that blind obsession… with the count."
The crow was still on the ground, where it had appeared.
Motionless for a moment too brief.
Telvaris stepped forward.
And crushed it.
The form came apart under the weight, dissipating into shadows that left no trace.
The silence that remained after—
was not empty.
It was chosen.