"Mom! Dad!" Elif screamed, tears streaking her cheeks as black smoke twisted like serpents around them.
Icariel sprang up, eyes slicing through the fog. "They're okay," he said sharply, pointing.
As the smoke parted, Aelar stood in front of Elena, his arm raised. A thin, translucent shield of mana shimmered between them, its surface rippling from the recent blast. Neither of them had a scratch.
Elif collapsed into Icariel's sleeve, sobbing in relief. "What's happening, Teacher?"
Aelar's voice was a grim whisper, low and tight. "An invasion," he said, watching dark-cloaked figures descend like crows from the sky.
Then—footsteps.
Princess Virethiel stormed onto the balcony, flanked by Lonor and Eldrin.
"What was that explosion?" Virethiel demanded, eyes flaring.
"They're here," Aelar snapped. "We've been compromised. The plan is no longer viable."
He turned on instinct. "Eldrin—gather the royal guards. Lonor, stay with the Princess. Guard her with your life and engage if necessary. I'll intercept the closest ones until the soliders responds—they must've heard that blast."
The others moved without hesitation—but Icariel stepped forward.
"Teacher," he said quickly, voice tight. "They're not just here. They're in the tribal village too."
"What?!" All eyes turned to him in disbelief.
"I saw it from the balcony—flames. Fighting. They're already there."
Aelar's face turned to carved granite. "I'll alert Tessara," he muttered, then raised his voice with sudden clarity.
"Icariel, Elena, Elif—come with me. I can't fight with you exposed."
They sprinted through the grand hall, footsteps echoing like war drums. Aelar stopped at a white stone wall, pressed a faintly marked brick—and with a soft grind, a hidden passage groaned open, revealing stairs plunging into darkness.
"Follow this path. It leads to a secured chamber—food, warmth, and cloaks inside," Aelar said quickly. "Stay hidden until I return. Icariel, rely on your senses. If anyone comes—you'll feel it first."
His hand landed on Icariel's shoulder—firm, heavy. "And… thank you. For protecting Elif."
Icariel nodded.
"Elif, go—now!" he barked. "No time to argue!"
"But—Father—!"
"GO!"
Another explosion thundered through the castle. The ceiling shivered. They vanished into the hidden stairwell, and Aelar sealed the stone shut behind them.
He exhaled through clenched teeth. "To think they'd strike today… while we were vulnerable." His fists clenched. "And still no signal from the portal—damn it."
He bolted outside—
And froze.
Three cloaked figures stood at the castle gates, unmoving. Like tombstones.
"Well, well, well…" said one, voice slick with venom. "Look who came to greet us."
The leader pulled back his hood.
A human—dark-haired, sharply featured. His eyes were black wells, emotionless. His armor, obsidian and blood-forged, shimmered beneath the cloak. Stamped on his chest: a cruel emblem—a blade severing a head from its neck.
"I'll take the famous Warleader," he told his companions.
They nodded.
"So I'm popular in the human world now?" Aelar muttered, stepping forward. Metal along his arms shifted with a whir, forming a long blade with a handle twisted like aged tree bark.
"His energy…"Aelar thought, teeth gritted. "That darkness—it's unnatural. He's powerful."
"Oh, you have no idea," the invader said with a grin like rotting teeth.
"Good thing I wore my armor today," Aelar replied.
Without hesitation, he launched forward.
CLASH!
Swords met—thunder cracking with each strike. The air split. Sparks danced like dying stars. Their duel exploded away from the castle in seconds—two forces of nature tearing through the dawn.
One of the other cloaked figures chuckled. "Let's wait. Then gut him when he tires."
"I don't think so," said a voice behind them.
BOOM!
One of the invaders was flung forward, crashing into the stone path. His cloak slipped off.
Standing where he had been—Eldrin. Fists clenched, stance solid.
"Not a very honorable way to fight," Eldrin growled.
The invader—a girl now revealed—rose slowly. Her appearance was jarring: one crimson eye, the other golden. Hair of pale yellow streaked with deep red, a faint burn scar across her cheek. Her features were plain, but her aura bled instability.
"Oh, look," Eldrin said dryly. "A little rainbow come to play."
She hissed, furious.
"Grinis, don't—" the final figure began.
Shing.
A dagger sliced through the air. He barely dodged, the blade carving through his cloak, revealing his face.
"Tch… I didn't even sense her until now. What the hell was that?!"
From the shadows stepped Tessara—silver-eyed, masked, calm as death itself.
Sheathed in stillness, she said nothing.
The final invader shed his cloak. Eldrin's gaze sharpened.
"Oh, this just got interesting," he muttered.
The being before him towered—humanoid, monstrous. Gray-skinned, stone-cut muscles, eyes cold and blue as glaciers. A massive black spear hung from his back. His black hair fell like a curtain.
Eldrin's expression darkened.
"Monsters now? The Godless Abyss doesn't play fair."
The beast snarled at Tessara. "You'll pay for that," he said, voice like grinding granite.
But she wasn't looking anymore.
"Eldrin, stall them," she said. "I was hoping to kill one quickly, but I failed. I'm heading to the village."
"You always leave the hard part to me," Eldrin said with a smirk.
"Just protect the civilians," she replied—and vanished like a silver ghost.
Grinis smiled cruelly. "What now, elf? You're outnumbered."
"Who's outnumbered?" Eldrin asked coolly.
He raised a hand.
"Royal Guards—assemble!"
Fifteen elven warriors in golden armor burst forth from the castle, forming a shield wall around Eldrin, Virethiel, and the invaders.
"Sending just three second-rate invaders into an elven stronghold? Not your brightest plan," Eldrin said.
The monster laughed, deep and low. "We'll see about that…"
He doubled over—retching violently.
"…Is he vomiting?" Eldrin muttered.
The monster heaved, then coughed out a glowing blue orb—pulsing with mana. He caught it and smashed it against the ground.
It shattered.
A tearing sound split the air. A blue rift opened—ripping space itself. A portal.
"You wanted war?" the monster grinned. "You'll get it."
Something crawled through.
A clawed hand—too long, too thick. Then a grotesque body, moving on all fours like a beast. Yellow eyes gleamed. Its maw split into jagged, feline-toad jaws. Muscle bulged, claws dragging stone with each step.
"Disgusting," Eldrin whispered. "What is that?"
"Our newest allies," Grinis said, grinning wide. "The Crogs."
And then she kept speaking—counting.
"One… two… ten… thirty… sixty…"
Beasts kept pouring through the portal.
Ninety.
One hundred.
A swarm of nightmares.
A young elf guard trembled. "H-how… how is this happening…"
A veteran gripped his shoulder. "Stand firm. If we fall, so does the tribe."
But fear spread like wildfire.
"Damn it…" Eldrin cursed. "How do they have a portal artifact!?"
Suddenly, his armor flared with light. His bracer hissed—shifting into a gleaming golden spear. Its blade shimmered, its shaft engraved with sacred leafwork.
"Royal Guards! Shield the civilians! Slay as many as you can! Hold until the Warleader returns!"
Then—flash.
Eldrin soared forward, spear outstretched—aiming straight for the gray monster.
The monster met him mid-strike, his black spear singing.
CLANG!
The impact blasted shockwaves. The earth cracked.
"Now we're talking," the monster growled.
"Shut up, beast," Eldrin spat, pressing harder.
Grinis circled behind him—
BOOM!
She was slammed sideways, crashing into an elven home—stone walls cracking.
"Took you long enough," Eldrin grinned.
Lonor now stood beside him, tall and cold.
Behind them—Princess Virethiel, clad in her sleek black combat gear. Icariel had seen it once—the first time he met her.
"Let's switch," Lonor said. "You take the girl. The Beast will handle the monster."
"With pleasure," Eldrin said, turning toward Grinis without pause.
The gray monster turned to face Lonor. Spear lowered.
"A rare honor, Lonor the Beast," he rumbled. "But shouldn't you be guarding your Princess? She's wide open."
Lonor didn't blink. His eyes glowed—ancient, dangerous.
"Me? Worry about the Princess?"
From behind—one of the Crogs lunged.
SHUNK!
Without turning, Virethiel thrust out her hand—her fingers piercing clean through its chest. She flicked her wrist. The beast dropped like meat.
"One down," she murmured, wiping her hand.
Lonor smiled faintly. "You see… we have the only Princess in Iliriania who thirsts for battle."
He raised his spear—pointed it directly at the gray monster.
"And if you draw her attention…"
His voice turned deadly.
"…you'll be the one needing protection."
[End of Chapter 43]