Ethan dismounted from the ch and recalled Shatterstar into its compact form. Activating stealth mode, he sharpened his perception to the extre, wrapping himself in silence and shadow. Every ounce of focus went into preparing for his infiltration of the enemy’s camp.
The frozen plain stretched endlessly around him. Then the stillness broke. Space itself rippled like disturbed water.
To the east, thousands of figures suddenly erged from the distortion.
Ethan froze. Since arriving on this vast ice field, he had crossed between different sectors himself without ever feeling the slightest ripple in space. Yet now, watching this phenonon with his own eyes, his heart gave a heavy jolt. Could the beings within that crimson pillar of light have sensed him when he first entered with Shatterstar?
The distortion didn’t stop. More figures poured out. In the span of minutes, the trickle beca a flood—one hundred thousand strong.
"Why are there so many?" Ethan whispered to himself.
He recognized the insignias and banners among the groups. "That’s Clearspring City... and the Forgotten City as well."
The initial thousands were all elites, warriors of at least Elysium rank, with nearly a third at War God rank. At their head marched two n. One wore fine silks and jewels, the very image of a wealthy rchant-lord. The other dressed like a young noble eager to appear dashing, though his round fra made the attempt almost comical, like comparing a buyer’s advertisent to the actual product.
Ethan knew them both. Baelor Wane, Lord of Clearspring City. And beside him, without question, Shaw Zilo, Lord of the Forgotten City.
"I didn’t expect the Forgotten City to still have this many survivors..." Ethan thought grimly.
The picture ca together in his mind. Shaw Zilo’s reckless choices must have provoked disaster, leading to the massacre of his city. Now Baelor Wane had co demanding answers.
And that crimson fortress looming in the distance, where millions had been twisted into Bloodkin—those were likely the slaughtered citizens of the Forgotten City. Only two million uncorrupted souls remained within, though their reasons for being there were still unclear. To Ethan, their chances of survival looked laughably slim. Among them, he sensed a handful of Saint-ranked powerhouses, but against the ancient Voidbreaker-level monster leading the Bloodkin, they might as well have been lambs to the slaughter.
"Did Shaw not tell Baelor the truth?" Ethan wondered. Otherwise, why would that shrewd old man march so willingly into the jaws of death?
Just as Ethan considered abandoning his infiltration and slipping closer to the gathering for answers, his senses brushed against sothing. A few auras he knew all too well—but the sheer press of bodies obscured his vision.
His frown deepened. He condensed his soul sense tighter around himself, searching for clarity. Then, with a deliberate breath, he extended it outward to cover the group.
The mont his perception brushed them, soone inside the formation snorted.
A razor-sharp soul strike followed his own thread of thought straight back to his brow. Ethan’s expression hardened. He knew that aura. Her!
In a blink, he cut the connection, severing the thread before it pierced deeper. The counterattack dissipated, but the damage was done. His stealth collapsed in an instant.
"There! An intruder—kill him!"
The shout split the air, and three figures shot from the mass like arrows loosed from a bow. One of them really did draw a bow, releasing an arrow that howled through the sky with crushing force, aid straight at Ethan.
He rembered the archer. Back outside Hurricane City, when Ethan had been trapped by beasts, this man had stood among the Forgotten City’s ranks, felling a mid-stage War God beast with a single shot.
"Luna!" Ethan roared. His body surged, activating bear Form.
The Twilight War Spear shimred into his grip, its haft extending as he whipped it upward.
tal rang against tal. The incoming arrow clanged off the spear tip, the impact so fierce it forced Ethan half a step back.
"Damn... this guy’s stronger than I thought." His mind sharpened. Even in his Bear form, he had felt the weight of that attack.
One of the three attackers was already upon him, descending from above with a roar. "Sky-Shattering Palm!"
The warrior’s palm slamd down from mid-air, dragging with it a crushing field of gravity. The pressure was imnse, though still weaker than the brutal oppression Ethan had endured climbing the Ascension Staircase.
In Ethan’s hands, the Twilight War Spear split and reshaped, layering its essence over his palms. He called upon two skills at once—Heavy Strike and Rend—coalescing them around his hands.
With a stomp that cracked the ice beneath him into a spiderweb pattern, Ethan launched upward to et the attack. His palm collided with the descending strike, Heavy Strike exploding outward. At the sa ti, his other hand lashed toward the man’s chest, claws brimming with the Rend technique.
The clash rocked the air, a shockwave splitting the silence. The man’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t thought anyone could withstand his Sky-Shattering Palm, yet Ethan had stopped it head-on. Worse, Ethan’s other hand was already tearing toward his chest.
"Saint Body Protection!" the man bellowed.
White radiance burst from his body, forming a shimring barrier across his skin. Ethan shifted instantly, twisting his strike at the last mont.
His palm cracked across the man’s face instead.
The slap echoed, and the force hurled the warrior back like a ragdoll. Ethan, driven by the recoil, landed hard, knees bent against the frozen ground.
"Don’t attack! He’s one of ours—he’s my boss!"
The cry rang out from the mass of soldiers, but it was already too late. Two water arrows had been launched, transmuted by the freezing air into jagged ice spears. Their casters, both priests, frantically tried to dispel them, but the magic was already beyond their control.
Ethan tensed, ready to dodge.
Suddenly, two streaks of fire lanced across the field, colliding with the ice.
Hissing steam filled the air as both spears vaporized on the spot, the flas dispersing just as quickly.
Ethan straightened, eyes narrowing.
From within the gathered ranks, more than ten thousand riders took to the sky on Illusionary Qilin Beasts. Leading the charge were figures he recognized at once.
Blackie. Julian. Micah.
And two won—one in a long flowing green gown, the other in a blazing red dress.
"Boss! We’ve been searching for you!" Blackie shouted, his voice booming across the ice. He was also the one who had stopped the earlier attack.
The group landed before Ethan.
"You... you’ve recovered?" Ethan asked, his gaze lingering on the woman in green.
"Not fully," she admitted with a calm glance. "But enough to deal with this." Her eyes flicked toward the towering crimson pillar that split the sky.
This was the Dragon Child—though in this form, she seed more like a maiden cloaked in human grace.
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