Scene 1: The Female Assassin
The mysterious assassin remained perfectly still.
For the first time since appearing on the battlefield, even she had encountered something she had not anticipated. Someone had interfered with her attack. Everyone had seen the silver needle change its trajectory before reaching Avi, yet nobody could determine who had done it. No footsteps had been heard, no Zhivava had been sensed, and even the battlefield itself seemed unable to perceive the hidden presence.
However, the woman allowed herself no distraction.
Her mission came first.
The countless needles floating around her slowly rose higher into the air as the surgical threads connected to her fingers began to glow. One by one, the needles started revolving around both her and Simargl, moving like celestial bodies orbiting a sun. Their rotation became faster and faster until they formed a protective barrier of steel and explosive Zhivava around the Guardian and his assailant.
Inside that spinning prison, the massive anti-Zhivava weapon embedded within Simargl's chest continued its work.
Dark liquid pulsed through the transparent chamber of the enormous syringe while the Regalia slowly emerged from the Guardian's body. Every passing second weakened the divine beast further.
Simargl gritted his teeth.
His flames flickered violently.
Even the Guardian of Pskov could feel his power being drained.
Hidden among the ruins, Bezlik immediately understood her intentions. He moved closer through the shadows, yet the rotating needles left no opening. One wrong movement would trigger dozens of explosions simultaneously. The woman had created not only a barrier but also an operating room upon the battlefield itself.
Realizing that concealment no longer served any purpose, Bezlik finally stepped forward.
The reactions were immediate.
Yudhir rose despite his exhaustion. Varun instinctively moved in front of Rusalka. Gabriel raised his shield while Boris positioned himself before his nephews.
It felt as though a person had materialized out of thin air.
Nobody had sensed his approach.
Nobody had heard him move.
His face remained hidden behind the smooth white mask that made him appear completely faceless. Looking at it felt deeply unsettling, as though one were staring into endless white emptiness. His dark clothing merged with the ruins around him while his very existence seemed detached from the natural world itself.
Only Avi remained calm.
Blood continued flowing from his forehead, and his vision still swam from the concussion, yet he felt no hostility from the masked stranger. Strangely, he sensed kindness.
Not warmth.
Not familiarity.
But kindness.
The person who had saved him carried no malice whatsoever.
Bezlik's emotionless voice finally broke the silence.
"What is a disciple doing on this battlefield? I thought your organization had already left this city after taking Alexander and Novgorod's Regalia."
The word alone shocked everyone.
Disciple.
The female assassin's eyes narrowed slightly.
This unseen spy knew about the Disciples.
He knew about Alexander.
He knew about the Regalia.
For the first time since arriving in Pskov, her composure cracked ever so slightly.
Without hesitation, two needles shot toward him.
The attacks crossed the battlefield almost instantly.
Bezlik calmly drew his sword.
Or rather—
what should have been a sword.
There was only a hilt.
No blade.
Nothing extended from it.
Yet he swung.
Two metallic sounds echoed across the battlefield as both needles shattered before reaching him. The explosions illuminated his motionless mask while fragments of silver rained around his feet.
The assassin's eyes widened.
She had clearly seen the movement.
But she had seen no blade.
An invisible sword.
A weapon that did not exist.
Meanwhile, Yudhir rapidly analyzed the situation. His exhausted mind reached only one conclusion. They could not fight these two. Not now. Not in their current condition.
Avi was barely standing.
Varun had exhausted most of his Prana.
Simargl was restrained.
Even Boris and Gabriel had little strength remaining.
Bezlik spoke without turning toward them.
"Take the young man back. I will hold her."
Yudhir and Varun exchanged glances.
Neither trusted him.
But both understood the situation.
Without wasting another moment, they rushed toward Avi and supported him from both sides. The others slowly retreated with the wounded, creating distance between themselves and the battle that was about to begin.
The woman finally spoke.
Her voice remained calm.
Cold.
Measured.
"Who are you? A lapdog of Red Winter?"
Bezlik answered immediately.
"Yes. You could say that."
His faceless mask turned toward her.
"And you are Moraena the Frostingale, the Fourth Disciple of the Disciples of Fate Reverser."
For the first time, genuine surprise appeared upon her face.
"Red Winter still lacks a complete understanding of your organization. But I suppose it is fair to say that they are following your trail."
The revelation disturbed her.
Her identity.
Her title.
Her position.
This man knew all of it.
His existence had suddenly become far more dangerous than any soldier present.
Moraena's eyes grew colder.
"If you know this much, then you understand I am not an easy opponent."
Bezlik remained perfectly still.
"I am aware."
"But I see no problem in trying."
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Bezlik vanished like a shadow.
Dozens of needles descended simultaneously, bombarding every place he stepped. Explosions shattered the frozen earth while silver threads danced through the air like webs woven by death itself.
The Guardian continued to howl.
The extraction continued.
Moraena accelerated the process by pouring more Zhivava into the anti-Zhivava weapon while simultaneously battling the hidden spy.
Bezlik moved like a being without presence.
Moraena fought like a surgeon performing an operation.
Every movement was efficient.
Every attack was lethal.
To the exhausted heroes watching from afar, the battle appeared almost impossible to follow. Silver flashes collided against invisible strikes while explosions erupted throughout the battlefield.
Even Boris and Gabriel watched in stunned silence.
These were not ordinary warriors.
These were monsters.
Meanwhile, Rusalka and Varun quickly treated Avi's injuries using medical supplies gathered from both Boris's and Gabriel's soldiers. The bleeding slowed, but his body remained unstable.
The moment the bandages were secured, Avi attempted to stand.
Varun immediately grabbed his shoulder.
"Captain, what are you doing? You're in no condition to fight."
Rusalka frowned.
"He's right. Even if you reach them, what can you do against those two?"
Avi slowly rose to his feet.
His legs trembled.
His vision blurred.
Yet his eyes remained fixed upon Simargl.
"I know."
"But I can't stay here while the Guardian dies."
He clenched his fists.
"I promised Ruslan that I would help save Pskov."
"That includes Simargl."
Everyone understood his feelings.
Everyone also understood reality.
They could not defeat those two.
Yudhir finally stepped forward.
"I won't let you go."
Avi looked at him.
"I have to."
Yudhir shook his head.
"I know."
"That's exactly why I won't let you go alone."
The meaning behind his words finally reached Avi.
Not alone.
Never alone.
Varun suddenly cracked his knuckles and grinned despite his exhaustion.
"Then what are we waiting for? Captain, we're waiting for your orders."
Boris burst into laughter.
"You three better return safely. Otherwise my nephews will kill me."
Even Gabriel silently nodded in agreement.
Yudhir stepped beside Avi as the wind slowly gathered around him once again.
"We're a team."
"We don't abandon our captain."
Avi looked at the two standing beside him.
The brothers he had forgotten.
The friends he had found again.
Even if their memories had been lost, fate had brought them together once more.
Perhaps memories could disappear.
But bonds could not.
A small smile appeared upon Avi's face.
He slowly raised his frozen sword.
"Dragon Fury."
"Our second mission."
"Save the Guardian of Pskov."
Yudhir and Varun stepped beside him.
Despite their wounds.
Despite their exhaustion.
Despite the overwhelming enemy before them.
They smiled.
"Yes, Captain."
The mysterious assassin remained perfectly still.
For the first time since appearing on the battlefield, even she had encountered something she had not anticipated. Someone had interfered with her attack. Everyone had seen the silver needle change its trajectory before reaching Avi, yet nobody could determine who had done it. No footsteps had been heard, no Zhivava had been sensed, and even the battlefield itself seemed unable to perceive the hidden presence.
However, the woman allowed herself no distraction.
Her mission came first.
The countless needles floating around her slowly rose higher into the air as the surgical threads connected to her fingers began to glow. One by one, the needles started revolving around both her and Simargl, moving like celestial bodies orbiting a sun. Their rotation became faster and faster until they formed a protective barrier of steel and explosive Zhivava around the Guardian and his assailant.
Inside that spinning prison, the massive anti-Zhivava weapon embedded within Simargl's chest continued its work.
Dark liquid pulsed through the transparent chamber of the enormous syringe while the Regalia slowly emerged from the Guardian's body. Every passing second weakened the divine beast further.
Simargl gritted his teeth.
His flames flickered violently.
Even the Guardian of Pskov could feel his power being drained.
Hidden among the ruins, Bezlik immediately understood her intentions. He moved closer through the shadows, yet the rotating needles left no opening. One wrong movement would trigger dozens of explosions simultaneously. The woman had created not only a barrier but also an operating room upon the battlefield itself.
Realizing that concealment no longer served any purpose, Bezlik finally stepped forward.
The reactions were immediate.
Yudhir rose despite his exhaustion. Varun instinctively moved in front of Rusalka. Gabriel raised his shield while Boris positioned himself before his nephews.
It felt as though a person had materialized out of thin air.
Nobody had sensed his approach.
Nobody had heard him move.
His face remained hidden behind the smooth white mask that made him appear completely faceless. Looking at it felt deeply unsettling, as though one were staring into endless white emptiness. His dark clothing merged with the ruins around him while his very existence seemed detached from the natural world itself.
Only Avi remained calm.
Blood continued flowing from his forehead, and his vision still swam from the concussion, yet he felt no hostility from the masked stranger. Strangely, he sensed kindness.
Not warmth.
Not familiarity.
But kindness.
The person who had saved him carried no malice whatsoever.
Bezlik's emotionless voice finally broke the silence.
"What is a disciple doing on this battlefield? I thought your organization had already left this city after taking Alexander and Novgorod's Regalia."
The word alone shocked everyone.
Disciple.
The female assassin's eyes narrowed slightly.
This unseen spy knew about the Disciples.
He knew about Alexander.
He knew about the Regalia.
For the first time since arriving in Pskov, her composure cracked ever so slightly.
Without hesitation, two needles shot toward him.
The attacks crossed the battlefield almost instantly.
Bezlik calmly drew his sword.
Or rather—
what should have been a sword.
There was only a hilt.
No blade.
Nothing extended from it.
Yet he swung.
Two metallic sounds echoed across the battlefield as both needles shattered before reaching him. The explosions illuminated his motionless mask while fragments of silver rained around his feet.
The assassin's eyes widened.
She had clearly seen the movement.
But she had seen no blade.
An invisible sword.
A weapon that did not exist.
Meanwhile, Yudhir rapidly analyzed the situation. His exhausted mind reached only one conclusion. They could not fight these two. Not now. Not in their current condition.
Avi was barely standing.
Varun had exhausted most of his Prana.
Simargl was restrained.
Even Boris and Gabriel had little strength remaining.
Bezlik spoke without turning toward them.
"Take the young man back. I will hold her."
Yudhir and Varun exchanged glances.
Neither trusted him.
But both understood the situation.
Without wasting another moment, they rushed toward Avi and supported him from both sides. The others slowly retreated with the wounded, creating distance between themselves and the battle that was about to begin.
The woman finally spoke.
Her voice remained calm.
Cold.
Measured.
"Who are you? A lapdog of Red Winter?"
Bezlik answered immediately.
"Yes. You could say that."
His faceless mask turned toward her.
"And you are Moraena the Frostingale, the Fourth Disciple of the Disciples of Fate Reverser."
For the first time, genuine surprise appeared upon her face.
"Red Winter still lacks a complete understanding of your organization. But I suppose it is fair to say that they are following your trail."
The revelation disturbed her.
Her identity.
Her title.
Her position.
This man knew all of it.
His existence had suddenly become far more dangerous than any soldier present.
Moraena's eyes grew colder.
"If you know this much, then you understand I am not an easy opponent."
Bezlik remained perfectly still.
"I am aware."
"But I see no problem in trying."
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Bezlik vanished like a shadow.
Dozens of needles descended simultaneously, bombarding every place he stepped. Explosions shattered the frozen earth while silver threads danced through the air like webs woven by death itself.
The Guardian continued to howl.
The extraction continued.
Moraena accelerated the process by pouring more Zhivava into the anti-Zhivava weapon while simultaneously battling the hidden spy.
Bezlik moved like a being without presence.
Moraena fought like a surgeon performing an operation.
Every movement was efficient.
Every attack was lethal.
To the exhausted heroes watching from afar, the battle appeared almost impossible to follow. Silver flashes collided against invisible strikes while explosions erupted throughout the battlefield.
Even Boris and Gabriel watched in stunned silence.
These were not ordinary warriors.
These were monsters.
Meanwhile, Rusalka and Varun quickly treated Avi's injuries using medical supplies gathered from both Boris's and Gabriel's soldiers. The bleeding slowed, but his body remained unstable.
The moment the bandages were secured, Avi attempted to stand.
Varun immediately grabbed his shoulder.
"Captain, what are you doing? You're in no condition to fight."
Rusalka frowned.
"He's right. Even if you reach them, what can you do against those two?"
Avi slowly rose to his feet.
His legs trembled.
His vision blurred.
Yet his eyes remained fixed upon Simargl.
"I know."
"But I can't stay here while the Guardian dies."
He clenched his fists.
"I promised Ruslan that I would help save Pskov."
"That includes Simargl."
Everyone understood his feelings.
Everyone also understood reality.
They could not defeat those two.
Yudhir finally stepped forward.
"I won't let you go."
Avi looked at him.
"I have to."
Yudhir shook his head.
"I know."
"That's exactly why I won't let you go alone."
The meaning behind his words finally reached Avi.
Not alone.
Never alone.
Varun suddenly cracked his knuckles and grinned despite his exhaustion.
"Then what are we waiting for? Captain, we're waiting for your orders."
Boris burst into laughter.
"You three better return safely. Otherwise my nephews will kill me."
Even Gabriel silently nodded in agreement.
Yudhir stepped beside Avi as the wind slowly gathered around him once again.
"We're a team."
"We don't abandon our captain."
Avi looked at the two standing beside him.
The brothers he had forgotten.
The friends he had found again.
Even if their memories had been lost, fate had brought them together once more.
Perhaps memories could disappear.
But bonds could not.
A small smile appeared upon Avi's face.
He slowly raised his frozen sword.
"Dragon Fury."
"Our second mission."
"Save the Guardian of Pskov."
Yudhir and Varun stepped beside him.
Despite their wounds.
Despite their exhaustion.
Despite the overwhelming enemy before them.
They smiled.
"Yes, Captain."
Scene 2: Pskov's Guardian
The members of Dragon Fury charged forward once more—toward the very Guardian they had once fought.
The battlefield had become a storm of destruction. Every clash between Bezlik and Moraena unleashed violent shockwaves that tore apart whatever remained standing. Ruined houses crumbled beneath the force of their exchanges while broken branches and frozen debris from the Tree Giant were hurled across the city like deadly projectiles. Moraena's countless surgical needles carved through the air with merciless precision, while Bezlik's invisible blade erased everything caught within its path.
Even reaching Simargl had become nearly impossible.
The weakened Guardian remained on one knee, his body trembling as the anti-Zhivava weapon continued draining the Regalia from within him. Time was slipping away with every passing second.
Varun clenched his fists anxiously.
"How are we supposed to reach the Guardian?"
Avi's eyes remained fixed on Simargl despite the blood running down his face. His mind rapidly searched for an answer.
"I have an idea..." he said quietly. "But it'll be risky. We need to distract them first... somehow."
A grin slowly spread across Yudhir's face.
"Leave that part to us."
He looked toward Varun.
"Ready?"
Varun answered by slamming his fists together.
"I've been waiting for you to say that."
Meanwhile, the battle between the two assassins only intensified.
Moraena launched volley after volley of surgical needles, each one accelerated by Zhivava until they became little more than silver streaks. Bezlik weaved effortlessly between them, his body gliding through the battlefield without wasting a single movement. Whenever evasion became impossible, his bladeless sword intercepted the attacks with flawless precision, detonating the explosive needles harmlessly before they could reach him.
At the same time, Moraena twisted and bent with almost unnatural flexibility, narrowly avoiding the invisible slashes of his weapon. Since only the hilt was visible, predicting the true reach of the blade required instincts bordering on the supernatural.
Neither assassin could gain the upper hand.
Behind his expressionless white mask, Bezlik spoke in the same flat, emotionless voice.
"This fight has dragged on long enough... don't you think?"
Moraena's calm eyes narrowed.
"I was thinking the same thing."
She slowly raised her hand.
"It's time to finish this."
The dozens of floating needles immediately returned to her side. Instead of scattering again, they merged together, rotating faster and faster until they formed a gigantic spiral needle nearly the length of a man's arm. The terrifying weapon screamed through the air as layers of Zhivava compressed around it.
Across from her, Bezlik quietly lowered his stance.
No one present recognized it.
It resembled Romanov swordsmanship...
Yet it wasn't.
His right hand lowered the hilt toward the ground while his body remained perfectly still, every ounce of his concentration focused upon the spinning projectile before him. Nothing else seemed to exist.
Moraena spoke first.
"Helical Needle Style..."
Bezlik answered without emotion.
"Bladeless Sword Style..."
Their voices overlapped.
"Impact."
"Faceless."
The spiral needle shot forward like a bolt of judgment.
Bezlik moved at the same instant.
His body disappeared.
One upward swing.
That was all.
The invisible blade met the giant needle head-on, splitting it apart before it could even explode. Fragments scattered across the battlefield in a shower of sparks and frozen steel.
The same slash continued past the shattered weapon—
—and sliced cleanly across Moraena's mask.
A thin crack spread across its surface before one half fell silently to the ground.
Neither combatant moved.
For the first time...
They had reached a stalemate.
Yet before either assassin could continue, both suddenly sensed something behind them.
Two immense concentrations of prana were rapidly converging.
Yudhir and Varun stood shoulder to shoulder several dozen meters away. One commanded the wind, the other the water. Their raised palms faced one another as both elements compressed into a single rotating sphere.
The air screamed.
Water spiraled around violent currents of wind, spinning faster until the surrounding ground began to crack beneath the pressure.
Both boys smiled.
"Dragon Style Combo Attack..."
Their voices became one.
"Twin Dragon Hurricane Point!"
The compressed sphere shot across the battlefield.
Bezlik and Moraena instinctively moved to destroy it before it could reach them.
Exactly as Avi had predicted.
The moment their attacks struck—
—the sphere exploded.
Twin dragons burst forth.
One formed entirely from roaring winds.
The other is from violently rotating water.
Together they spiraled around both assassins, trapping them inside a raging hurricane. Blades of compressed wind sliced relentlessly from every direction while torrents of water crashed endlessly against them, dragging their movements into chaos.
Yudhir and Varun immediately dropped to one knee, pouring everything they had left into maintaining the technique.
Neither of them believed it would defeat monsters like these.
It didn't have to.
It only needed to buy one opening.
Avi was already moving.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward Simargl.
Half of Moraena's needles still revolved around the Guardian, maintaining the anti-Zhivava weapon embedded within his chest. If he could destroy those needles, the extraction might finally stop.
He looked toward the kneeling guardian.
Pain quietly crossed his face.
"Just a little longer, Simargl..." he whispered.
"I'll save you."
His greatsword instantly shrank into a straight blade more suited for precision.
Avi inhaled.
His breathing slowed.
His body settled naturally into a deep stance.
His feet spread wide apart while his hips sank low, every muscle coiling with restrained power. The posture resembled a lion preparing to strike—not through rage, but through perfect composure.
Cold mist escaped his lips.
His eyes glowed icy blue.
"Dragon God Sword Style..."
The surrounding air froze.
"Frost Tempo."
His blade became a blur.
Instead of powerful downward strikes, each slash flowed seamlessly into the next, tracing perfect circles through the air. Every movement carried the momentum of the previous one, allowing the sword to dance continuously without losing speed.
In the blink of an eye—
The revolving needles froze solid.
Unable to detonate, they fell harmlessly onto the battlefield.
Avi immediately shifted toward the anti-Zhivava weapon.
But he was one step too late.
Moraena shattered the hurricane with overwhelming force and flicked a single needle toward him.
Avi reacted instantly.
His sword intercepted it—
BOOM!
The explosion blasted him backward before he could land another strike.
Without wasting even a heartbeat, Moraena released another barrage toward Bezlik, forcing him to defend instead of pursuing her.
She had already calculated everything.
Simargl finally collapsed onto the frozen earth.
The extraction...
was complete.
The Regalia had left the Guardian's body.
Moraena's mission was finished.
Only Bezlik remained.
She analyzed the battlefield with a single glance.
Dragon Fury was exhausted.
The Guardian had fallen.
Bezlik stood between her and escape.
With a flick of her fingers, several needles shot toward Avi and his companions.
They exploded before anyone could evade them.
Avi barely managed to raise a wall of ice, shielding his friends from the worst of the blast before the shockwave hurled all three across the battlefield.
Yudhir...
Varun...
All lost consciousness.
Only Avi remained awake.
Barely.
His knees shook violently beneath him as he forced himself upright. His sword remained planted into the frozen earth, supporting a body that had already surpassed its limits. Every breath burned.
Every heartbeat hurt.
Yet he refused to fall.
Bezlik immediately seized the opportunity to pursue Moraena.
But she had anticipated that as well.
A small cluster of needles detonated between them, covering the battlefield in dense smoke. By the time Bezlik dispersed it with a single slash of his invisible blade—
She was already standing atop the highest branch of the frozen tree giant.
The regalia rested securely in her hand.
She looked down at Bezlik.
Her voice remained soft.
Cold.
Certain.
"Red Winter's lapdog..."
"Don't die before we meet again."
"I'll be the one to kill you."
Bezlik looked back without the slightest change in expression.
"I'm only a spy."
"I simply follow my master's orders."
His invisible sword lowered slightly.
"But if crossing blades is what you desire..."
"Come at me with everything you have."
Moraena ignored him.
Instead...
She looked toward Avi.
The boy still knelt upon the frozen ground, barely conscious, gripping the sword that supported his collapsing body. His eyes never left the Regalia she carried away.
She studied him quietly.
"Boy..."
"You fought well."
Her mismatched eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"But the strength you possess now..."
"...isn't enough to stand before someone like me."
Avi didn't answer.
He already knew.
His body wasn't weak.
It simply hadn't yet mastered the techniques his forgotten past had once engraved into it.
He needed to become stronger.
Far stronger.
Moraena slowly turned toward the city one last time.
"Before I leave..."
A faint smile appeared beneath the broken remains of her mask.
"Allow me to leave Pskov one final gift."
She stepped backward into a portal.
The moment it closed—
A deafening explosion erupted from the base of the frozen tree giant.
The entire trunk cracked.
The colossal tree began falling toward the Temple of Rod, where the survivors had taken refuge.
Bezlik had already vanished.
Avi desperately tried to gather Prana.
Nothing answered him.
Instead, blood burst from his lips as his exhausted body rejected the attempt.
Helpless...
He watched the gigantic tree descend.
Then—
Simargl moved.
Though stripped of his regalia...
Though robbed of nearly all his power...
The Guardian rose one final time.
His body expanded.
Every fragment of life force he still possessed erupted outward.
With a mighty roar, he caught the falling giant tree.
The earth trembled beneath his feet.
Then, summoning the last remnants of his divine strength, Simargl shattered the frozen monument into countless fragments of glittering ice that scattered across the evening sky like snowfall.
Avi watched in silent awe.
Even now...
The Guardian protected his people.
But the price was absolute.
Simargl's body began crumbling into countless particles of Zhivava, disappearing little by little into the wind.
Avi reached toward him with trembling fingers.
Tears quietly ran down his face.
"Hey..."
"You can't die like this..."
His voice cracked.
"What am I supposed to tell Pskov's people...?"
"What am I going to tell Ruslan...?"
Simargl smiled gently.
"You have already done enough, my mighty warriors."
His fading eyes looked upon the city one final time.
"It was an honor..."
"...to fight beside brave humans once again."
Then he turned toward Avi.
"Tell me, Child of the Dragon God..."
"Did I fulfill my duty as a guardian?"
Avi nodded through his tears.
A gentle smile finally appeared on his face.
"Yes..."
His voice barely remained above a whisper.
"You truly did."
The Guardian smiled.
Then his body dissolved completely into countless motes of Zhivava, returning to the world he had protected for centuries.
The moment he disappeared...
Avi finally collapsed.
Darkness claimed him beside his unconscious companions.
Yet before Simargl's Zhivava completely faded into the evening sky, a small portion suddenly changed direction.
It flowed toward a young boy running desperately across the battlefield.
Toward Ruslan.
He reached the fallen Dragon Fury with Rusalka only a few steps behind him. As the gentle light entered his body, Ruslan looked up at the empty sky where the Guardian had vanished.
His lips trembled.
"Simargl..."