The journey unfolded with a relentless intensity, the horses thundering along the road, their hooves setting the very path ablaze with urgency. Ruth, the mage, usually composed and deliberate, rode at the forefront with a palpable sense of urgency.
"I've never seen the mage in such a hurry," one of the knights remarked, a wry grin playing on his lips as he motioned toward Ruth.
"We have no time to lose," Ruth snapped, the determination etched in his voice cutting through the air like a blade, "The last reports from Ethlene were extremely worrisome." His jaw clenched with a mix of anxiety and resolve, his gaze focused on the unseen horizon. The worry for Belisent, a thread that bound him to an unsettling fate, gnawed at his core.
The landscape blurred as they raced forward, each mile marking a cadence of apprehension. Dust billowed in the wake of their swift procession, and the rhythmic beat of hooves echoed the urgency that fueled their journey.
***
Near Ethlene Castle, Sir Ursuline and the other knights busied themselves at a nearby river after fending off a monster attack. The rhythmic sounds of water lapping against the shore accompanied the clinking of armor and swords being cleansed of the vile residue left by the monstrous assailants. As the knights diligently washed off the blood, Ruth wandered higher up the river, seeking solace in the cold, clear water.
Squatting down, he submerged a clean cloth into the river, the cool liquid refreshing on his face and neck as he methodically cleansed away the traces of battle. Glancing up, he spotted a petite figure approaching.
"Bell?", Ruth stood up, his eyes widening and his heart skipping beats at the sight of her. He rushed forward, immediately enveloping her in an intimate hug.
"Ruth... finally," she whispered, looking up at the silver-haired man. His eyes stared at her hungrily, as she touched his face with gentle fingertips. Ruth hastily guided her against a tree, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss, as they were granted privacy by the branches and bushes around them.
Yet, something felt amiss.
His hand trailed up her spine, finding its way to her neck. In a sudden shift, he pushed her away, holding her in place with a strangling grip. "Who the hell are you, and where is Bell?", he growled.
The woman in front of him grinned. "You realized it faster than I anticipated. What a pity, I really was enjoying this..."
Bell's visage melted away, revealing the true identity of the woman.
"Morwynn," he growled angrily. "Where is Bell?"
"Who knows, perhaps dead, perhaps alive?" she grinned, licking her lips with pleasure. "But it's nice; I finally got to taste you, mage Ruth. And how delicious your lips are. Mhhhh..." She moaned in delight before choking as his grip tightened around her neck.
"You really are repelling," he pierced her with the deadliest look, a heavy frown etched across his face. Turning her around, he led her back to the rest of the knights, while she continued to wear her devilish grin.
"We have a prisoner," Ruth declared, pushing Morwynn in front of Sir Ursuline.
Sir Ursuline surveyed the captive Morwynn with a stern gaze, his features reflecting wariness. Morwynn, despite being restrained, exuded an unsettling air of captivation. The sunlight danced upon her face, highlighting the sinister gleam in her eyes.
Ruth, his jaw still clenched in restrained anger, spoke to the assembled knights. "This is Morwynn, the traitor who killed Sir Aegis, and a deceiver who took on the appearance of Commander Belisent. We must extract information about Commander Belisent's whereabouts and the nature of her plans."
Sir Ursuline nodded solemnly, signaling for Morwynn to be secured. As they bound her hands, Morwynn chuckled, her laughter echoing eerily through the air. "Oh, mage Ruth, you're even more captivating when you're angry," she purred, her eyes fixated on him.
Ruth met her gaze with cold determination, ignoring her attempts to unsettle him. The knights exchanged wary glances as they led Morwynn away, her every step a calculated dance of defiance.
Despite the urgency of their mission, a sense of foreboding lingered in the air. The river, witness to both deception and captivity, mirrored the complex currents of the unfolding tragedy. Ruth, with a heavy heart, remained focused on the task at hand, driven by the desperate need to find the real Bell.
***
Sir Ursuline secured the captive Morwynn to his horse as they pressed on in their journey toward Ethlene.
"Something is off..." Ruth murmured, his senses on high alert as he scanned the surroundings.
Approaching a clearing, the air suddenly filled with clashing and crushing noises, the cacophony of battle echoing through the stillness.
Morwynn pursed her lips, a twisted satisfaction in her eyes. "Looks like my friends are having some fun."
Growls and screeches, the clash of blades, and the desperate screams of warriors intermingled, creating an ominous symphony.
Rushing towards the tumult, the Remdragon Knights entered a scene of chaos. Ancient guls—morgols—engaged in a brutal skirmish with an infantry division of Livadon. Ruth, his eyes scanning the fray, spotted Tylena and Maevis fighting within the chaos. He hastened towards them, unleashing a massive fireball to scatter two approaching morgols.
"Maevis! Tylena!" he called out, relief washing over both of them as they saw their comrades arriving. Tylena and Maevis, visibly worn out and exhausted, met Ruth's gaze.
"What is going on?" he asked, deflecting the relentless attacks of the morgols.
"We've been fighting monsters for weeks now. These morgols are especially dangerous, but they stopped accreting in numbers for the past few weeks," Maevis explained, while Tylena added, "Also a huge monster army is forming, mage Ruth. We're constantly spreading out, trying to disturb their formation and kill as many monsters as possible, but it seems to be in vain."
"I understand..." Ruth surveyed the chaotic battlefield. "Where is Commander Belisent?" - "She must be fighting that orc. He was the strongest of this monster division," Maevis pointed in the northwest direction, and without hesitation, Ruth took off.
***
Belisent's breath ragged as she finally drew her sword through the muscular neck of the orc, severing its head after an exhausting struggle.
Landing on her knees, she muttered, "Finally," only to abruptly jump to the side, narrowly dodging the venomous attack of a necromancer.
"You again," she growled at the creature, and the necromancer chuckled. "Funny to meet you here again. How did you manage to survive my attack?" He tilted his head, then shrugged. "Well, it won't matter now because your life is going to end here. You are a real pain, look what you did to my poor orc commander." He hissed and launched an assault on Belisent, who, worn out from the fight with the orc, barely evaded the necromancers attacks.
Ruth's dagger activated itself again, shielding her.
„Interesting shield...", the necromancer muttered, altering his attacks now.
The intensity of his blasts grew, straining the daggers magical shield.
Belisents breaths labored, her armor strained with the remnants of her recent battle. She sought to a moment of respite, desperately avoiding the necromancers attacks.
‚I can feel the shield weakening... damn it. I have to push myself further.', she decided, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply reminding herself of a mantra from her training at the Enigma Sanctum.
Feel the mana surrounding you. Enhance it, allow it to flow through you and borrow its energy.
The air pulsated with tension as she opened her eyes again. The shield from the dagger now slowly started to crack under the constant attacks. „This is my last resort.", Bell pulled out her sword charging towards the necromancer activating her last resources.
„Not so fast.", another participant joined the battle attacking Bell from the side. Morwynn, having eluded Sir Ursuline's capture, emerged with a dagger, a sinister gleam in her eyes. Belisent was grappling with exhaustion and attempted to evade the assault, but the combined threat of Morwynn and the necromacer left her vulnerable.
CRACK.
The dagger made from dragon bone broke in half, its shield vanishing.
Bell's eyes widened as she avoided the necromancers blast curtly, only to find herself being sliced by Morwynn's dagger. She clutched her right arm, the searing pain mirrored in the blood that dripped onto the battlefield.
"Morwynn, my love, where have you been?" the necromancer grinned, and Morwynn responded with a dark chuckle.
"I just had a delightful encounter with a certain silver-haired mage," she purred, casting a sly glance at Belisent, whose eyes now smoldered with unbridled rage.
"I got a taste of him. He is delicious. Mhhhh," Morwynn provocatively moaned, a wicked grin playing on her lips, „He really missed you, Bell.", Morwynn snickered as she revealed herself wearing Belisent's own face with a sweep of her hand. "My love here graciously allowed me to borrow some of his dark magic. How easy it is to wear your identity on my face," Morwynn taunted, reveling in the chaos she sowed.
Rage overcame Belisent, fueled by deeply worry of what had happened to Ruth. Her body trembled as every single muscle in her body tensed. In a frenzy, Belisent, grappling with a distorted reality, charged at her own mirrored image.
But Morwynn was no easy opponent. A fierce struggle unfolded as Belisent and Morwynn clashed in a deadly dance. Each movement was a calculated defiance, a test of strength and will. Morwynn, skilled and agile, danced around Bell, mocking her at every turn. Bell, fueled by fury and a determination to end this torment, fought with every ounce of her being.
Finally, with a surge of strength, Bell managed to disarm Morwynn and gain control of the situation. The two locked eyes in a silent battle of wills. The battlefield, already scarred by war, bore witness to their intense struggle.
In a final, desperate move, Bell drew her blade through Morwynn's heart. The air crackled with the weight of the moment as Morwynn's sinister grin faded into the abyss of death: „Shit... you got me.", were her last words.
„No!!!", the necromancer charged at Bell, who was now unable to move anymore. She faced his attack coming closer, but couldn't find any strength to doge it. Ruth's dagger was broken, unable to shield her anymore.
As the necromancer's venomous attack surged toward the weakened Belisent, Ruth himself suddenly appeared, weaved his magical incantations in a dance of silver and azure hues. The air crackled with energy as Ruth summoned a protective barrier, intercepting the deadly magic just inches from Belisent's vulnerable form.
The battlefield quivered with the clash of opposing magical forces. Ruth's counterattack manifested as a radiant shield, a luminous barrier that repelled the necromancer's venom with a harmonious resistance. The air shimmered with the interplay of their spells, an intricate ballet of light and darkness, life and death.
In the midst of the magical maelstrom, Ruth's determination burned bright. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity as he held the defensive line, shielding Belisent from the impending doom. The necromancer, realizing the formidable force he faced, hissed in frustration and recoiled, temporarily withdrawing from the fray. Ruth, however, wasn't content with merely repelling the threat. With a resolute gaze, he launched a retaliatory wave of magic, a cascade of ethereal tendrils that surged toward the necromancer. Each tendril bore the essence of pure magic, an embodiment of Ruth's prowess honed through years of study and experience.
The necromancer, now on the defensive, attempted to counter the incoming magical assault, but Ruth's precision and skill proved unmatched. The tendrils danced around the battlefield, a mesmerizing display of arcane prowess, closing in on the necromancer with an inexorable determination.
As the magical onslaught intensified, the necromancer, realizing the tide had turned, hastily retreated, „Not today!", his words hung in the air as his body dissolved in a dark cloud vanishing from the scenery.
Ruth, frowned but decided to let it go. He quickly turned his attention to Belisent. "Are you alright?", he asked, his voice a gentle murmur that cut through the quiet aftermath. Belisent, exhausted and drained, swayed on her feet before finally collapsing to the ground. The wounds, both physical and emotional, had taken their toll.
Ruth knelt beside her, assessing her condition. "You need rest. You used up all your strength," he said, his tone both caring and firm. He cradled her gently in his arms, mindful of the injuries she had sustained. The world around her started to fade away but feeling the warmth of the man she loved, comforted her with a sense of security.
The Remdragon Knights, Tylena and Maevis as well as the rest of the Livadonian infantry, having regrouped after the skirmish, approached the scene cautiously. "What's our next move?" one of the knights inquired, his eyes shifting between Belisent and Ruth.
Belisent, now unconscious in Ruth's arms, became the focal point of their attention. Ruth glanced at the concerned faces of his comrades. Exhaustion and tiredness were written over the faces. "The sun is setting. We need to find a safe place to rest and recover for the night. Our journey to Ethlene Castle will have to wait until tomorrow," he declared, determination lacing his words. The knights agreed and they all set off seeking for shelter.
***
Ruth cradled Bell's unconscious form with utmost care, his silver hair catching the moonlight as they moved through the night-shrouded landscape. The castle of Ethlene still loomed in the distance, its silhouette a haunting reminder of the challenges they faced. Sir Ursuline led the way, his stern gaze forward, contemplating the path ahead.
As they ventured deeper into the realm of shadows, the knights encountered an abandoned watchtower, its structure offering a semblance of protection against the unknown threats that lurked in the darkness. With a collective decision, they carefully settled Belisent inside, ensuring she was as comfortable as possible.
Ruth, now free from the immediate urgency, focused his attention on tending to Belisent's wounds. Gently, he examined the cuts and bruises, applying healing magic to expedite her recovery. The air within the watchtower was filled with an air of tension and concern, the gravity of the recent events still hanging in the air.
The Remdragon Knights faced a moment of introspection. Sir Ursuline addressed the group, his voice firm yet laden with the weight of responsibility.
"We stay vigilant. We don't know what challenges lie ahead, but our duty remains unchanged. Protect Ethlene, protect each other," he declared, rallying the knights to uphold their commitment even in the face of uncertainty.
As the night wore on, the flickering candles within the watchtower cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. Ruth remained by Belisent's side, a silent guardian watching over her rest. The Remdragon Knights took turns standing guard, their weapons at the ready, mindful of the dangers beyond the tower's walls.
The moon ascended, bathing the landscape in an ethereal glow. In the stillness of the night, the Remdragon Knights found solace in the unity forged through battles fought and shared hardships. The path ahead remained obscured, but their resolve stood unyielding, a testament to the enduring spirit that bound them together.