Over at the Whitecrest Clan's territory.
The wind howled through the clearing as Lalira stood alone in her white dress, the fabric fluttering like torn silk. White grass swayed around her ankles, and pale trees rose like silent statues beneath the towering waterfall. Everything was white — the land, the mist, even the light itself.
She held her white fanged blade at her side, staring at the roaring curtain of water.
"So this is where it is?" she muttered, raising her palm toward the stone wall hidden behind the falls. "Since I don't have access to open whatever's behind this… I'll just force it open."
She inhaled sharply.
"Dalar'ol!"
A black beam erupted from her hand, tearing through the air and slamming into the waterfall—
But instead of piercing through, the beam struck the water like it was solid stone.
The waterfall froze.
The water stopped moving.
The grass stopped rustling.
Even the wind died.
"The hell…?" Lalira whispered.
Silence.
Then—
A faint rustle behind her.
She spun instantly, firing another beam toward the sound. It struck a tree—
and the tree absorbed it like ink sinking into paper.
"What the actual fuck…"
Then she felt it.
A presence.
Cold.
Heavy.
Standing directly behind her.
Her chest pounded as she turned.
Several feet away stood Eiden.
His tied‑back white hair flowed in the dead wind. His black cloak and robe shifted with a slow, unnatural ripple. His grey eyes were half‑lit, empty of mercy, filled only with bloodlust.
One of the three blades at his waist was already unsheathed — a katana, its edge gleaming with quiet hunger.
"No way… you're not even supposed to be here—!"
She didn't finish.
In a single, silent dash, Eiden moved past her.
She didn't even see the swing.
Her vision tilted.
Her body felt weightless.
Then—
Thud.
Her head hit the ground.
Her body collapsed a heartbeat later, falling sideways into the white grass.
Her blade slipped from her fingers and clinked softly beside her.
The world stayed frozen.
Only Eiden moved.
And Lalira was no more.