Elena’s appearance in the sky went unnoticed by almost everyone.
Almost.
Evan had just finished decapitating sothing that could only be described as an unsettling cross between a squirrel and a spider when he shifted his attention away from the battlefield and toward the sky, where he felt a strong presence making itself known.
It wasn’t the only one. He sensed four others, appearing at different points across the city, so to the north, others to the west and south, and this one to the east, where his sector of the battlefield was.
’It’s that woman from before,’ he thought, recognizing her imdiately.
He hadn’t known much about her at the ti of their first encounter, but in the days that followed he had learned more, about the council mbers of the BranLeaf Association branch, and where she fit among them.
Firstborn of the current duke. An Elite at the peak of B-rank. Capable and well-regarded, seated among the council of this Association branch.
A woman who served as a bridge between the duke who governed this duchy and the Association, an organization that answered not to the duke, but to the king. A link that kept operations between the two parties running without friction.
None of which was particularly relevant to Evan. She wasn’t soone he had dealings with, or expected to.
Or so he thought.
Hm?
Evan had only just glanced at her when he was taken slightly by surprise as she t his gaze in return, clearly noticing his stare.
It was within his expectations, but what he didn’t expect was the smile she gave him, neither polite nor a greeting, but teasing, almost seductive in a playful way, or at least that was how it seed to him.
’Better to keep my distance from that one,’ he thought, already sensing trouble in the particular shape of that smile.
He returned it briefly, then looked away, having no interest in letting whatever that interaction was beco anything more.
The stillness had settled over the battlefield like a held breath, and for a short while it softened the tension in those who didn’t know better. But just as the stronger fighters had expected, it didn’t last.
The beasts that had halted their advance began to stir, not forward, but into sothing else entirely. Sothing that confused nearly everyone present.
They lowered their heads.
In unison. Deliberately. Toward sothing that had yet to appear.
The weaker and newer adventurers exchanged uncertain looks. The stronger ones narrowed their eyes.
They understood what they were seeing. They understood what it ant.
And then it arrived.
A presence. Heavy, unmistakable, categorically different from anything that had co before it. It didn’t matter whether you were strong or weak, everyone on every front felt it at the sa mont, felt sothing pushing toward them that belonged to a different order of threat entirely.
Then they saw it.
A shadow erged from the mass of still beasts.
At first it seed like nothing more than a distortion, a trick of the light, a bend in the air itself, as if space had shifted slightly to allow it through. Then it took shape.
It didn’t move the way the other beasts moved. It didn’t need to.
The ground beneath it wasn’t trampled. It was acknowledged, as though reality itself hesitated to refuse it passage.
Its body was long, but not with the natural continuity of a serpent. It appeared to be composed of mismatched segnts, as if multiple creatures had been fused together and then left unfinished. Dark scales, almost liquid in their sheen, reflected the light at wrong angles, giving the impression of sothing that didn’t entirely belong to this world.
And then the head.
Not one.
Two. Distinct forms, balanced in an arrangent that had no natural precedent, as if two separate wills had been forced to share the sa body and had reached an uneasy agreent about it.
The eyes opened.
And in that mont, the silence changed.
It was no longer simply quiet.
It was awareness. Intelligence. Patience.
The beast didn’t roar. It didn’t attack.
It observed.
And for the first ti since the battle had begun, many felt a certainty settle over them like weight, this year’s tide was going to be considerably harder than anyone had anticipated.
Because what had just appeared wasn’t an unfamiliar creature. Quite the opposite. Those who had lived in this city long enough knew exactly what it was.
The Twin-Head Naga.
A Beast Lord in every sense of the term. One of the five most powerful known creatures in this forest.
Last year, it had been the one to lead the beast tide against the city. It had failed, but in failing, it had managed to escape with its life, and had taken a B-rank and several C-ranks with it on the way out. A considerable loss for BranLeaf.
That had been when it was a B-rank at advanced stage.
It was at peak now. One step from A-rank. Substantially more dangerous in every asurable way.
And if that wasn’t enough, it hadn’t co alone this ti.
Four other presences made themselves felt around the city’s periter. Four signatures, each one close in weight to the Twin-Head Naga itself.
The other four Beast Lords of the forest.
This was no longer a standard beast tide commanded by a single Beast Lord. This was a coordinated assault, a full-scale offensive led by all five Beast Lords simultaneously, hitting every front at once.
Across every sector of the battlefield, the pressure intensified. Legs went unsteady beneath the weaker fighters. Hearts tightened in the chests of the stronger ones.
Then the Twin-Head Naga opened its mouth.
Not to attack.
A voice ca out instead, thin, almost human, perfectly comprehensible.
"Hahaha. What a lovely little gathering you’ve prepared to welco ."
The voice sent a visible shudder through much of the crowd. The Naga didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care.
It was a Beast Lord at B-rank. Powerful, and far more intelligent than anything lower, intelligent enough to communicate across species, humans included. It was a trait common among the strongest beasts, and one that unsettled people more than most were willing to admit. Many believed the intelligence of the most powerful beasts could surpass that of humans, not impossible, just too frightening a reality for most to accept openly.
"Lizard." A calm, clear voice cut across the battlefield, audible from one end to the other. "I see you’re still alive. I hope you enjoyed the gift I left you last ti."
Elena. Her expression hadn’t moved from composed, though sothing brief and sharp had passed through her eyes.
"Hisss. Human woman. You again." The Naga’s tone shifted, fury first, then sothing closer to contempt. "Last ti you caught off guard. It won’t happen again. Believe when I tell you, this ti you have no chance of surviving. All you can do is stand there and be crushed beneath our strength."
Elena didn’t appear particularly troubled by this.
Instead, a greatsword materialized in the air beside her, hilt upward, suspended without support. Her hand found it without looking, fingers closing around the grip as she settled into the quiet readiness of soone who had already decided how this was going to go.
"You know," she said lightly, as though they were discussing sothing trivial, "I’ve been craving lizard skewers today."
Her blade rose with lazy ease.
"Co on then... don’t disappoint this ti."
***
While the battle against the beast tide reached a new level of intensity above, sothing different was unfolding far beneath the surface.
Hundreds of ters underground, beneath the great stump on which BranLeaf had been built, a vast open space stretched into the dark.
Parts of it lay in complete shadow, others bathed in a faint erald glow generated by clusters of strange flowers that pulsed with a cold, living light, growing from roots that jutted out from the walls in every direction, spreading across the stone like veins. But the flowers weren’t the only things growing here.
Thicker roots, massive and gnarled, pushed through from every side as well, all of them converging toward a single point at the center of the space.
There, suspended in the air and bound by those roots like sothing cradled rather than contained, hung a sphere of light nearly ten ters in diater. It glowed deep green, and it pulsed, slowly, steadily, like sothing breathing.
Like sothing alive.
Beneath it, filling the floor of the cavern, was what could only be described as a research installation.
Buildings of various types and functions had been constructed here, deep underground, away from any eye that might stumble upon them by accident. Personnel moved between them, n and won in refined attire who carried themselves with the particular focus of people engaged in work they considered important. All of them occupied. None of them idle.
Toward one end of the space, a staircase rose from the floor, wide and deliberate, ending at a throne that commanded a full view of everything below.
A man sat on it.
Middle-aged in appearance. Posture relaxed, one elbow resting on the armrest, his chin set against the back of his closed fist. Still. Silent. Still enough that he might have been mistaken for a statue, or sothing long dead.
Then his eyes opened.
Dark, and colored in a way that was difficult to place, but sharp. The eyes of soone who had seen enough to stop being surprised by most things, and had decided long ago what to do with what remained.
He looked at the pulsing sphere of light at the center of the cavern.
"At last, the mont has arrived," he said, his voice calm as he rose from the throne. His movents were unhurried, almost ordinary, yet they carried a quiet regality.
"The ti has co to fulfill my destiny."
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