Queen Mary stood before the Gate of the Sand Desert, surrounded by her soldiers.
Durgal stood at her side, while Lunaire the genie remained silent, his wings folded tightly against his back, his gaze fixed on the enchanted forest stretching before them.
There was no reason for concern... at first.
Then the ground trembled-slightly.
A few soldiers paused, dismissing it as a passing disturbance.
But the tremor came again.
Stronger.
Then came the sound.
Not an explosion.
Not the echo of battle.
It was closer to a distant, muffled roar—something vast shifting deep within the forest.
Every head lifted at once.
One of the soldiers spoke quietly:
"Did... did you hear that?"
The queen did not answer.
The ground shook again, harder this time. Sand shifted beneath their feet, spilling from the edges of the ancient stone gate.
Then the sounds began.
Screams.
Human... and not.
A short, broken cry, followed by others—layered, overlapping, without language or direction. As if many creatures cried out at the same moment.
Lunaire's wings snapped open slightly, tension sharp in his voice:
"These are not battle sounds..."
He hesitated.
"These are the cries of creatures sensing danger."
Durgal's hand moved to his weapon.
"The forest is reacting."
That was when Queen Mary felt it.
Not shock.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
An invisible pressure passed through her body—an old reminder.
A power she knew... and had hoped never to feel again.
Her gaze lowered slightly, as if she were seeing something unseen by others.
She whispered to herself:
"Damn it... this energy."
Her fingers curled slowly into a fist.
"We haven't felt it for years."
"We believed it had faded... or vanished."
Another sharp scream echoed from within the forest, followed by more—chaotic, overlapping, impossible to separate.
Several soldiers' spears trembled in their grips.
Her thoughts sharpened.
"Why now?"
"What is he doing to release this much power?"
She raised her head and stared directly at the forest.
"Is this a warning... or an announcement?"
A chill ran down her spine-not because of the sounds, but because of who this power belonged to.
She did not speak the name.
She did not need to.
Turning, she saw fear in the soldiers' eyes, tension in Durgal's stance, and clear unease on Lunaire's face.
The decision was made.
"We will not enter," the queen said.
Some soldiers stiffened—but no one argued.
"We withdraw immediately to the Dwarven Kingdom," she continued.
"I want an emergency council."
"Everyone who knows anything about the gates—summon them."
Lunaire looked at her.
"And this power?"
Her gaze was sharp, final.
"This is not today's battle."
"Anyone who enters the forest now will not return."
She turned away without waiting.
As the forces withdrew, the enchanted forest behind them continued to tremble—
as if something within it had awakened,
determined to make sure the world felt its presence.
The next wave did not come all at once.
At first, there was only pressure.
A weight that made movement harder, breathing slower.
Sera was the first to press a hand to her ear—not from pain, but from the feeling that the sound was not merely heard... but invading.
Eileen staggered back a step, then froze.
Her body refused to respond.
Her knees shook, and her blue right arm flared instinctively, her power reacting on its own.
Ryan clenched his teeth and lifted his arm, but the pounding in his chest only grew stronger.
The staff in his hand released dark energy—black, threaded with violet—answering something far older.
"...This energy—" he began.
He couldn't finish.
His body grew heavy.
Every movement demanded twice the effort, as if unseen force pressed from all sides.
Sera tried to advance. She couldn't.
Her breathing shortened.
"What is this...?" she whispered, not searching for an enemy, but for a source.
Siron alone did not bend.
He was affected—yes.
But he remained standing.
Slowly, he lifted his head, watching the black energy condense before them.
"So... you've decided to show yourself," he said calmly.
He wasn't addressing a visible form.
He was speaking to the presence itself.
The spiritual energy gathered—not into a full body, but into a dense, irregular mass of deep black.
The screaming returned, closer now.
Voices of creatures and humans blended together, impossible to separate.
Eileen squeezed her eyes shut.
"Ray... I can't—"
"Hold on," Ryan said, gripping the staff.
But his voice lacked certainty.
Within this presence, no words were spoken aloud.
Yet the mysterious sorcerer spoke.
Not to them—
but to the world.
"Look."
It was not a shout.
It was a declaration.
"I am still here."
"I did not disappear."
"I did not weaken."
Another surge of power erupted—stronger than before.
The earth shook.
Trees bent.
And the pressure inside their minds intensified.
Ryan felt his heart sink.
He knew this feeling.
He remembered his first step into the enchanted forest.
The suffocation.
The inability to breathe.
And the voice that had spoken then:
Power stands before you.
"...It's him," Ryan whispered.
The staff pulsed, confirming what went unsaid.
Siron narrowed his eyes.
"Reminding them you exist?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Or threatening them?"
There was no answer.
Only more power.
The mysterious sorcerer was satisfied.
"Let them remember."
"Let them know the prison did not break me."
"And that the forest was never an end."
In that moment, no one thought of attacking.
Each of them was fighting only one thing—
To remain standing.
The darkness inside the Ambition Prison was not still.
Nerath felt the pressure before he understood its source.
Not the pressure of the prison itself...
but a familiar presence forcing its way through from outside.
His awareness froze for a moment.
Then he whispered, shock unmistakable in his tone:
"...Master?"
It was not a call.
It was immediate recognition.
This was not surveillance energy.
Nor a command transmitted from afar.
This was his power.
"Why... why did you appear personally?"
He said it inwardly, his thoughts tight and strained.
"What are you doing here... on the battlefield?"
Nerath turned within the void that bound him.
He felt the tremors.
The distant sounds.
The crushing weight of that presence.
No further explanation was needed.
His master was no longer content with watching.
His master... had chosen to appear.
And that choice... was not one he made lightly.