Ancestral Lineage

The first creature lunged, shadow flesh extending like tendrils of smoke and ash. Vorden met it head-on, his Dark Mantle blooming out around him like a living cloak. Each swing of his katana cut deep—where there was form to cut. But the creature's body seemed semi-real, always shifting between phases of substance and thought.

"Left flank! Lisa! Kyle!" Vorden called, eyes never leaving his foe.

"I've got it!" Lisa shouted, her twin daggers wreathed in water, slicing through the twisted arms of a second creature. Kyle, his entire body glowing faintly with his Beast God-Art, transformed mid-motion—muscles tightening, his white tiger ears perking, and his claws glowing violet.

"Let's see if you bastards bleed!"

With a beast-like growl, Kyle dashed toward the nearest writhing horror and struck low, ripping through its legs—if one could call them legs.

Meanwhile, Lith soared above, surrounded by three creatures. Their forms coalesced into sharp, spindled limbs and weeping faces. His Fire God-Art flared violently.

"Explode!"

The air distorted as his Artim lit up—a blazing crimson kite, spinning in his palm. He flung it toward the center of the enemy trio. The symbol expanded midair, slamming into the center of the group—

BOOM!!

A controlled explosion rocked the square. One creature was vaporized, and another was flung across the plaza. The third staggered, twitching.

Lith didn't stop.

"Fire Fists!"

His arms burst into flame, a second pair forming from his shoulders. With four blazing arms, he crashed into the enemy, raining strikes like meteor showers. The heat burned the stones underfoot.

Nearby, Radar panted, dirt and wind blasting around him. "I need… more pressure!" he shouted.

He slammed both fists into the ground.

"MUD PIT!"

The stones cracked. A surge of thick, viscous mud erupted beneath three creatures, dragging them down like quicksand. He held his palms forward.

"SANDSTORM!"

A swirl of fine golden sand roared from his body, cutting through the enemy like blades. Even the formless beasts staggered.

But for every one they cut down, two more emerged from the edges of the buildings, from cracks in the street, and from behind windows and doors that no longer held reality.

"Captain!" Rhoda called out, shielding Keira, who'd taken a hit to the ribs.

"I see them!" Vorden replied, just as a creature leapt behind him—

—and was pierced midair by a crimson spear.

"Wind Saber."

Alma's voice was calm, as cold as the steel in her eyes.

Her team had arrived.

Eight in shining uniforms. No hesitation. No delay.

Alma moved like a storm. Her double swords slashed in circular patterns, drawing a cyclone that pulled creatures into her reach and flung them back torn apart. The air around her howled in a high, keening pitch—wind made wrathful.

Beside her, a boy with glowing silver tattoos stomped the ground, releasing a light wave that incinerated two shadow fiends outright. Others on her team hurled spells and weapons with calculated precision.

"Hold the outer lines!" Alma barked. "Team 1 has the center!"

Lisa spun beside her. "Nice of you to show up."

Alma didn't reply—her focus was on the creature trying to phase through her left side.

She cut its spine in one motion.

Vorden and Alma's eyes met across the chaos.

A nod passed between them.

But this wasn't over.

From the center of the mist, a larger figure emerged.

Almost twenty feet tall, its body is composed of hundreds of faces screaming in silence. Runes glowed on its chest, and tendrils of darkness spiraled off its back like broken wings.

The smaller ones froze.

Then bowed.

"Oh no…" Kyle whispered.

Lith narrowed his eyes. "That's… a leader."

The air thickened again, and all Artim symbols began to distort, flickering erratically. It was trying to sever their connection to the god-arts.

Vorden stepped forward, his katana at his side.

"This one's mine."

The massive abomination loomed at the center of the battlefield, casting a nightmarish silhouette under the fractured moonlight above. Faces writhed across its form—some weeping, others twisted in agony, and a few laughing in endless mockery. The mist thickened, drawn toward it as if obeying a master.

It wasn't just a creature—it was a nexus of fear.

"Orders, Captain?" Kyle called out, wiping blood from his cheek.

Vorden didn't speak. He moved.

Straight toward the creature.

"Vorden—!" Lith called, ready to back him up, but stopped when he noticed another blur racing from the opposite end of the square.

Alma.

She arrived in a flurry of green wind, her double swords drawn, hair fluttering in the swirling pressure. She didn't look at him but stood beside him nonetheless.

"…We're doing this together?" Vorden asked, his voice low.

Alma gave a scoff. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want to watch you get killed before I finish my research."

Vorden's lips quirked into a slight smirk. "Good to see you too."

The creature stirred.

Its distorted voice echoed across the square—not in words, but in intentions. Sadness. Despair. Rage. Endless loss.

Dozens of Artim symbols—kite-shaped, broken, reversed—hovered around its core, dripping shadow.

"Can you cut through that?" Vorden asked.

"Easily," Alma replied, wind forming around her like a second skin. "Keep it distracted."

With a flap of her cloak, she launched into the air, a cyclone spinning to life beneath her. Twin swords ignited with Wind Saber, slicing a path forward.

Vorden dashed, Shadow Steps activating. He vanished and reappeared closer, his body flickering through patches of darkness.

The creature reacted—slamming one of its tendrils downward like a hammer.

BOOM!

Cratered stone flew.

Vorden twisted midair, Dark Mantle shielding him. He slammed into the tendril with his katana, embedding it deep—then let the shadow cloak expand, corrupting the limb with darkness.

The creature screeched, staggering back.

That was when Alma descended like a goddess of war, spinning with a full Cyclone. The blades carved two glowing arcs straight into its head, releasing a burst of psychic backlash.

"Now!" she yelled.

Vorden leapt from below—his katana now drawn fully, surrounded by a coiled spiral of shadow.

"Shadow Severance!"

He sliced clean across the creature's runed chest. The Artim symbols flickered violently—some bursting like broken glass.

The beast howled, throwing both of them backward with a shriek that ruptured windows and tore shingles from the roofs.

Alma rolled midair, recovering gracefully.

Vorden skidded along the ground, gritting his teeth but rising again. "Not… done…"

Alma touched down beside him. Her breathing was sharp, but her expression remained stoic. "It's healing."

Sure enough, the creature's body was already reknitting, runes reforming. But something was different—its aura now flickered. Weak points had emerged.

"Hit the exposed flanks," Alma ordered. "You go low, I'll go high."

Vorden nodded. "Copy."

They surged in once more—Alma rising like a storm front, wind blades dancing, while Vorden sank like a shadow dagger through the fog.

Together, they became a synchronized force of precision and ferocity.

Every strike Alma made pulled the creature's attention upward.

Every cut Vorden delivered from below drained it faster than it could recover.

Finally, Vorden plunged his katana into its core—the broken Artim sigils scattered like petals on the wind. The monster gave one last shriek—

Then collapsed.

Black mist dispersed into the air like dust on the wind.

Silence fell.

Alma sheathed her swords.

Vorden stepped back, breathing heavily. "Nice coordination."

Alma turned to him. Her expression was unreadable.

"Don't misunderstand," she said coldly. "This changes nothing between us."

Vorden shrugged, faintly amused. "Sure. See you at debriefing, teammate."

As she turned and walked away, Vorden caught the faintest flicker of hesitation in her stride—just a sliver—but said nothing.

From afar, the rest of both teams watched the two Paladins return, silent awe etched into their faces.

The captain and the tyrant.

Together, they'd felled a god of mist and shadow.

And the mission was far from over.