The Wrath of Sword

The battlefield was silent.

The ash drifted like slow snow.

Colins' feet pounded over blackened ground, breath ragged as she closed the distance to Solis, Layla accompanies him. "Solis! That's enough—!"

He didn't respond.

He was standing over Hamad's limp body, sword raised high. His orange-glowing eyes, ringed in black, flickered like embers caught in wind. The aura around him was unbearable — not hot, but oppressive, like standing at the center of a collapsing world.

Hamad groaned faintly below. He was broken, half-conscious, barely breathing — but alive.

And Solis was about to change that.

Layla stopped short, suddenly afraid. "Sir, that's not Solis..."

The sword pulsed in agreement. It was no longer a weapon. It was an executioner.

And then—

Wind shifted.

A blur cut through the smoke.

Selvine.

She appeared behind Solis in a split-second, expression unreadable, eyes sharp and precise. Her tunic fluttered as she slid forward, fingers curled into a compact spear-hand.

"Ghost Knuckle."

She struck.

A precise blow to the solar plexus, her fingers landing just beneath Solis's sternum.

His body seized.

The aura, the flare around him shattered.

The sword dropped from his hands like a dead weight.

And Solis collapsed forward into Selvine's arms.

She gently caught him. "Rest, Knight. You did enough."

Colins and Layla rushed forward as the aura dispersed. The heaviness in the air lifted. It was like the battlefield exhaled for the first time in minutes.

Selvine knelt beside Solis, lowering his unconscious form onto the ground.

Bronn, Karina and her followers arrived seconds later.

Bronn stared at the fading sword aura. "That... that thing was going to kill Hamad."

Layla held her breath. "Was it really Solis?"

"No," Colins answered quietly. "It was the sword. And it was using him, as a medium."

"But that's not possible... right?" Karina asks intuitively.

"As long as I know. That shouldn't be." Colins says, "But this sword is quite different. We don't know what it is. You may have seen thatbwhat it caused right?"

"Yeah we all have noticed." Bronn interrupts, "A dragon's illustration. A big one. Like a spirit dragon."

"Yeah we need to be careful with it. (Colins pauses for a little) Selvine I would like you to take this sword to Caldemount. We need proper research on it."

"Yes sir." Selvine nods without asking any question.

---

Aftermath

They moved quickly.

Colins gave the order to begin emergency cleanup. Knights tended to the wounded, retrieving stretchers and salvaging supplies. Bronn finally opened a portal, this time leading to a secured outpost a few miles away.

Karina and Selvine stood side by side near the unconscious Solis, who now rested with a medical cloth over his forehead. His breaths were shallow, but calm.

"He's stable," Layla said, checking his vitals. "But completely exhausted. Like his body was pushed past its limit, and then kept going."

Selvine said nothing for a moment.

Then: "That sword... It responded to his emotions. But when his anger reached the peak, it overtook him."

Karina glanced at her. "Why didn't you let Solis kill Hamad?"

"Because," Selvine said without hesitation, "I knew he'd never forgive himself if he woke up to blood on his hands."

"I thought so." Karina exhales. "So my perception was wrong after all."

"What do you mean by this?" Selvine asks, withoany change in expression.

"I always thought government is corrupt. They do things to benefit themselves. And all the Knights and authorities under them is

They looked to the side — to where Hamad lay, restrained by magical chains, groaning in pain. His magic had burned out. The once-dominant cultist leader was now a broken man, barely clinging to consciousness.

Vaidya, though injured, had insisted on being wheeled over to see for himself.

He looked down at Solis and whispered, "You saved us again..."

---

Nightfall at the Temporary Outpost

A fire crackled in the heart of the temporary outpost. Karina sat near the edge of the camp, sharpening her staff in slow, distracted motions. Her eyes flicked occasionally toward the tent where Solis rested, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Colins approached, brushing off soot from his coat. He sat beside her quietly.

"Still awake?" he asked.

Karina didn't look at him. "Couldn't sleep. Too much happened."

Colins nodded. "Same on our side too."

A long silence stretched between them, the fire crackling the only sound.

Finally, Karina spoke. "I should've stopped him sooner."

Colins looked at her. "Hamad?"

She nodded. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "We started it together. The movement. The cult. Back then... it wasn't a cult. It was a sanctuary. For people the system failed. The forgotten. The rejected. We built something — a place where they could matter."

Colins blinked, clearly caught off guard.

She continued, "Hamad was my teacher... my mentor. Brilliant. Passionate. But then came the whispers of power — ancient artifacts, forbidden magics. He became obsessed with one thing: Aegle's Veil. Said it could cleanse the world and rewrite the rules."

Colins's voice hardened. "The artifact that could disrupt all magical balance. That Veil?"

"Yes indeed, Mister. When Hamad find out that Phill is the key. He became a madman. He devised a plan to attack the village while he drags Phill out. For me that was the points to rebel against him. Our path got separated." She says. "But I knew he would eventually do that. As our men were low in number I decided to atleast save the child. (She gasps) But that never happened."

"I can understand the frustration. But it's not entirely your fault. You never knew what it can cause."

Karina nodded, eyes still on the fire. "I helped him look for it. I believed him. Thought it could be used to heal — to shield the weak. But as time passed, it wasn't about helping people anymore. It was about control. He stopped seeing them as people... started seeing them as pawns."

She gripped her staff tighter.

"I tried to stop him. Left with those who still believed in what we originally stood for. But it was too late. The movement fractured. And the war began."

Colins sat still, absorbing the weight of it.

Karina turned to him, eyes steady. "This is my responsibility. I know you have every right to detain me. So I'm not going to run."

She rose to her feet, stepped back from the fire, and unbuckled the insignia that marked her former rank among the rogue faction. "I surrender. Me, and everyone who followed me here."

Colins stood too, surprised, but he met her gaze. "You're choosing this?"

"I'm choosing accountability," she said. "That kid risked everything out there. It has costed his friends life. When I look at him, I feel disgust for my actions. The least I can do is own the part I played in letting it all spiral."

Colins looked at her for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded.

"I'll inform headquarters. You'll get your trial."

Karina's lips curled into a weary smile. "Let's hope it's a fair one."

---

Final Scene: Inside the Tent

Solis lay still, a thin blanket over his bruised frame. His breath was even, but shallow — the kind of sleep born of absolute exhaustion.

Outside the tent, Layla watched over him.

Just beyond her, sealed in a case lined with runes, the sword rested. The faint crimson glow had long since dulled, but the air near it still felt... tense.

Inside the tent, Solis's fingers twitched, reaching subconsciously for a weapon that wasn't there.

Then—

A whisper.

"Be strong... grow stronger..."

It came not from a person — but from the sword.

A flicker of light pulsed beneath the case's seal. Crimson, laced with shadow. And then it faded, like a breath held too long finally released.

Outside, the night stretched on.

But the danger had not passed.