In the darkness of the room, a lone figure with long black hair sat in a chair, quietly reading a book. He was none other than Kelar.
For the past night, he had been waiting for news from his n but none had arrived. What made things worse was that Cynthia had gone to Daisy Town, killing several of his subordinates in the process.
It was a grim situation. Being exposed was already a disaster, but losing Cynthia was far worse. Sothing he could not afford to let happen.
Suddenly, from the shadowed corner of the room, a figure cloaked in black erged and bowed deeply before him.
"My Lord, I have returned. I apologize for the delay."
Kelar clenched his fist tightly as his knuckles pale. But after a mont, he released the tension and exhaling slowly. He set the book down on the table, stood, and turned toward the kneeling man. Raising one hand, he signaled for him to relax.
"Tell the situation in Daisy Town," he said evenly.
"The Kaosliths were successfully activated, despite the shortened incubation period," the man reported. "However, only two reached full power. The one within the boy’s body... is operating at rely half its potential."
Kelar placed a hand on his chin, quietly digesting the report.
"It seems the mana within the host’s body also plays a significant role," he murmured to himself. "I’ll take that into account for the next sample."
The hooded figure continued, his tone steady and respectful.
"Azul is currently in control of one of the Kaosliths. According to our intel, both princes have arrived with their armies to aid the townspeople. The Dawnbloom Guild mbers are also involved."
At the ntion of that na, Kelar’s blood boiled. His expression darkened, and the faint light in the room seed to dim with his rising fury.
"Why do they always insist on standing in my way?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "No matter. Tell Azul to use this opportunity to strike them down as well. Summon as many monsters as he can using the Kaoslith’s mana, I give him full permission."
"Understood, my Lord. And... one more thing."
The cloaked figure turned toward the shadows from where he had co. A mont later, sothing heavy fell to the floor with a dull thud. It was Cynthia, unconscious with blood still flowing from a deep wound in her abdon.
"Azul fought her," the man explained. "She was injured, but not fatally."
Kelar’s eyes softened slightly. He approached slowly, his boots echoing against the stone floor. Kneeling beside her, he turned her body gently to examine the wound.
Extending his hand above the injury, a faint purple aura began to emanate from his palm. The energy shimred, seeping into the torn flesh as a dark, glowing patch spread over the wound until it was completely sealed.
Kelar then placed his hand on Cynthia’s forehead, releasing the sa eerie purple aura.
"Forget everything you saw today, girl," he whispered softly, his tone laced with twisted affection. "You’re far too precious to lose again."
A wicked smile crept across his face as the energy pulsed faintly from his palm.
After several minutes, the glow faded, and he withdrew his hand.
"Bring her back to her room," he ordered calmly. "And place soone to watch her at all tis."
The hooded figure nodded silently.
"One more thing," Kelar continued. "Did you discover who defeated our three n last night?"
"We cannot confirm the culprits, my Lord," the man replied. "But we believe they were new mbers of the Dawnbloom Guild, the sa group involved in the Coldshire Cave incident."
Kelar’s expression hardened as his brow furrowing in irritation. These newcors were an unknown elent, one he hadn’t accounted for in years of careful planning.
The figure faded into the shadows, carrying Cynthia’s unconscious body away.
For a mont, silence returned to the room. Then Kelar strode toward the window and pulled open the curtains. Sunlight spilled into the chamber, illuminating rows of glass containers, each holding eerie, half-ford specins suspended in liquid.
He stared at them with a cold smile.
"It seems I’ll need to et these new Dawnbloom mbers soon..." he muttered, his grin widening as the morning light glinted off his eyes.
---
"The Kaoslith is just over the block, right in the middle of the plaza," one of the soldiers reported to Prince Reymond and Captain Dave.
Reymond’s army had been marching for over an hour toward the Kaoslith’s location. Along the way, they had slain hundreds of monsters, with more than half of them falling to Reymond’s own hand.
"Good," Reymond said, his tone sharp. "Now, everyone, get into position. Once the battle starts, follow Captain Dave’s orders! Understood?"
"Yeah!"
A unified roar erupted from the soldiers. Their morale was still burning bright, even after hours of relentless combat.
Dave, standing beside Reymond, couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. It was always the sa whenever the prince entered battle mode, Reymond would focus purely on the fight, leaving Dave to coordinate the army. Yet, this system worked perfectly. It allowed Reymond to unleash his full offensive power while Dave maintained battlefield control.
After a few more minutes of marching, the soldiers ca to a halt. The Kaoslith was now visible, a grotesque, pulsating structure sitting in the center of the ruined plaza, once a bustling night market.
The scene was grim. Bodies littered the ground, and the remnants of stalls lay shattered and splintered. Yet, what struck them as most unusual was the eerie absence of monsters. For a device that should have been the heart of their spawn, the silence was unnatural.
Reymond led the vanguard forward cautiously. He raised his spear, Esapturah, its golden edge gleaming under the daylight, and scanned the surroundings.
Sothing was wrong here.
All the soldiers moved forward cautiously, their hearts pounding erratically as they braced for an attack that could co at any mont.
Screech!
Roar!
Suddenly, from the rooftops surrounding the plaza, hundreds of monsters erged, leaping, crawling, and spreading their wings. Their combined roars shook the air, a nightmarish chorus of hunger and rage.
"Finally, they showed up! Everyone, get ready!" Captain Dave shouted.
The soldiers imdiately ford ranks, shields up and weapons drawn, their breathing steadying despite the fear in their eyes.
But ahead of them, Reymond was already moving.
Before anyone could react, the prince had lunged forward, his armor flashing under the pale sunlight, a manic grin carved across his face. The soldiers didn’t even flinch. This was typical.
There was a reason people called him the Battle Maniac. He thrived in chaos, he lived for it.
While others hesitated before the storm, Reymond was already deep within it.
Dozens of monsters charged down the crumbling rooftops, converging toward him.
"Co here, bastards!" Reymond roared, his voice echoing through the plaza.
And then the slaughter began.
Swoosh! Pang! Ping!
The air rang with the symphony of violence, his spear Esapturah slicing through hide, bone, and muscle with lightning speed. Each thrust struck true, each spin broke through another wave. Blood splattered, claws clashed, and yet, the prince never wavered.
He was one man surrounded by a flood of monsters and still, he stood unshaken, his spear dancing like a raging storm through the tide of chaos.
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