The afternoon sun slanted across the rooftops of the quiet village, but peace shattered with the echo of screams. Lior, Kael, Junia, Tieu, Zyara, Siniadal, and Reres had just arrived when they saw smoke rising in the distance and terrified villagers running through the streets. From the edge of the forest, black shapes surged forward—packs of dark wolves, their eyes glowing red with corrupted fury.
"Wolves—dark ones!" Lior shouted, his sword already in hand. "Stay sharp, everyone. They're not here by chance."
A mother stumbled past them, clutching her child. "Help us! Please!"
Kael grit his teeth and readied his halberd. "I hate beasts like these. Fine, let's clear them out!"
The wolves lunged. The first wave charged straight at the group, snarling with teeth like daggers. Junia raised her staff, her voice calm but edged with determination.
"Stand back. Solar Gleam!"
Golden light erupted from her hands, searing the first line of wolves. They yelped in agony, scattering but quickly reforming to circle around.
Tieu, standing close to her sister, narrowed her eyes. "They're not afraid. They're being pushed to attack like this." She loosed a sharp crescent of lunar energy that sliced into two wolves before they could leap on Junia.
Zyara spun her twin blades, her stance balanced and predatory. "Then let's push back harder!" She darted into the pack, slashing with fluid precision, her blades carving arcs of silver light.
Beside her, Siniadal roared and swung his axe with brutal force, cleaving through a wolf that leapt from the flank. "Cowards! Preying on villagers while we're around?!"
Reres smirked grimly, his fists sparking with raw energy. "They'll regret crossing us. Come on, brother—we'll show them what real fighters are!" He dashed forward, striking with crackling force that sent two wolves crashing to the ground.
The battle raged. The wolves kept coming in endless waves, their claws tearing into cobblestones, their howls piercing the air. The defenders fought fiercely, their weapons flashing in rhythm as they formed a tight circle to protect each other.
But as the minutes stretched, Lior's sharp instincts caught something wrong. He parried a wolf's bite, driving his blade through its chest, and scanned the area.
"There are too many. Way too many." His eyes narrowed. "This isn't natural—it's coordinated."
Junia glanced toward him while blasting another wave with radiant energy. "What are you saying?"
He grit his teeth, slashing another wolf aside. "It's a distraction. Someone wants us stuck here while something worse happens elsewhere."
The realization struck them all at once. Tieu gasped. "Then Michi—"
"Damn it," Kael spat, shoving a wolf away with the shaft of his halberd. "They're keeping us away from him."
Zyara cut down another beast, her breathing sharp. "Then we hold until we can break free. But hurry!"
The clash of steel and snarls continued, each swing of their weapons echoing the growing urgency in their hearts.
Meanwhile, in the shadowed halls of the Arklight Guild, Michi and Canberas entered with guarded steps. The guild was eerily quiet now, as though battle had drained from its walls. The scent of blood lingered, sharp and metallic.
In the main hall, they found Pandora, her body battered and torn, slumped against a chair. She was being treated by Sylvia, the guild master herself, while Raksam stood nearby with a troubled expression.
Michi's eyes sharpened instantly. "Oh no you're badly injured…"
She lifted her head weakly, lips stained with blood but still managing to speak. "Michi… you made it…!"
Sylvia's hands glowed faintly as she pressed them to Pandora's wounds, sealing the worst of them. Her voice was clipped, tired. "You should know… we're not saints. The Arklight Guild takes jobs, no matter how dirty. If the money's good, we'll accept. That's the truth."
Her words hung heavy, but Pandora forced herself to add, her eyes locking with Michi's.
"But this… this is different. Drango… he's gone mad. This isn't a job anymore—it's slaughter, obsession. He took Shiro."
Michi's hands tightened at his sides, rage flickering in his eyes. "Where?"
Raksam suddenly stepped forward, his voice trembling yet firm. "Enough blood. I surrender. I'll guide you. Whatever Drango's planning—it's beyond us."
Canberas growled, his sword resting heavy against his shoulder. "You'd better not be lying."
"I'm not," Raksam replied quickly, lowering his weapon to the ground as a gesture of peace. "Come. I'll take you to the basement."
The three of them descended into the guild's depths. The air grew colder, the walls damp and lined with flickering torches. The silence pressed down like a weight.
At last, they reached a heavy iron door. Raksam hesitated, then pushed it open with both hands.
Inside was a room cloaked in shadows. At the center stood a figure—a woman shrouded in black robes, her presence suffocating. Her lips curved into a chilling smile as their eyes fell on her.
"Sister Death," Canberas muttered, his grip tightening on his weapon.
But before they could move, her form flickered like smoke. With that same smile etched on her pale face, she disappeared into thin air, leaving only the echo of her laughter behind.
Michi stepped forward, fists clenched, fury twisting his expression. "Damn it. She slipped away."
Sylvia's voice came from behind, calm but edged with regret. "There's a ruin nearby—the kind of place Drango would hole up in. If he's holding the boy, that's where you'll find him."
Michi turned, his eyes burning. "Then that's where we're going."
Canberas nodded fiercely, his blade already at the ready. "No more delays. We end this."
Sylvia and Raksam exchanged a glance but said nothing more. The path was set.
Together, Michi and Canberas left the guild's shadowed halls, the weight of truth and the scent of betrayal heavy behind them. Ahead lay the ruins, where Drango waited—and with him, answers drenched in blood.