Battle over Night

The sun was beginning to fade behind the snowcapped ridges, casting long shadows across the frostbitten trail. The smell of blood still clung to the air as Kalamari and his companions rode in silence, their breaths misting in the cold. The aftermath of the ambush still weighed heavy—not in guilt, but in anticipation. If a bandit raid had already reached this far north, then word of Veth's return was spreading.

Kalamari's horse, a dark-coated stallion with streaks of silver in its mane, trotted steadily along the winding road. He kept his hand near the hilt of his Soul Blade, eyes scanning the tree line for any flicker of movement.

Unomi rode beside him, cleaning the blood from her gloves with a wet cloth. "That man," she said finally. "The one who ran. He'll tell others."

"That was the idea," Tozi muttered from behind them, flicking a broken bit of ice from his sleeve. "Fear spreads faster than fire. Might give the next group a reason to hesitate."

Lakrima rode in the rear, her staff glowing faintly, offering warmth against the creeping cold. She stared upward at the clouds. "Hesitation doesn't stop gods. Not this one."

Kalamari's voice was low. "No… but it buys us time. And we'll need every second."

The road narrowed ahead, twisting between snow-packed boulders. A ruined watchtower stood half-collapsed against the ridge—ancient stone overtaken by vines and frost. Lakrima signaled a halt.

"We make camp soon," she said. "We're a day from the next kingdom, and the horses need rest."

Unomi frowned. "Camping this exposed?"

"Better than riding blind into another ambush in the dark," Tozi added, hopping down and tying his horse to a frost-bitten pine. "I'll start the fire."

As the group dismounted and prepared a small campsite near the ruins, Kalamari wandered away slightly, sword still in hand. Nylok crept out of his shadow again, curling up beside a rock, watching its master closely.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" Kalamari whispered.

The demon blinked slowly, then nodded. A low growl hummed in its throat.

Something else was coming.

And this time, it wasn't human.

---

The fire crackled low in the pit Tozi had built, its light barely enough to pierce the thickening fog that rolled in with the night. The ruined watchtower stood like a broken tooth behind them, jagged and ominous against the pale moonlight. Snow fell in soft spirals, gentle but endless, wrapping the world in silence.

Unomi sat with her back to the fire, arms crossed, head resting lightly on her knees. Lakrima curled beneath her cloak near a glowing sigil she had etched into the ground for warmth. Tozi was already snoring softly, one hand on his satchel and the other near a bottle of enchanted smoke he kept like a pillow.

But Kalamari did not sleep.

He stood away from the camp, sword planted in the snow, eyes fixed on the shifting woods beyond the campfire's reach. Nylok sat beside him, the little demon's black body melting into the shadows like a second cloak. Its crimson eyes mirrored Kalamari's own—sharp, alert, waiting.

The wind howled louder as midnight drew near.

Nylok stirred. Its eyes narrowed. A faint, unnatural chill passed through the trees.

Kalamari raised his sword slowly.

"Here they come," he whispered.

The first one emerged on four legs—its body long and sinewed like a panther, but made entirely of translucent ice. Its fangs were icicles, its eyes glowing with frigid hate. More followed—lumbering ice trolls with frostbitten armor fused to their skin, wolves with smoke for breath, and serpentine things that slithered through the snow, leaving frozen blood in their wake.

Dozens.

A herd of silence and death.

Kalamari didn't wait. He took a single breath—and leapt into motion.

The Soul Blade ignited with golden energy as it struck the first beast clean through the jaw, shattering its crystalline skull into a mist of frost and shards. He twisted, slicing the neck of a second before it even reached him. A third lunged—only to be intercepted by Nylok, who expanded into a black blur and drove claws deep into the beast's chest, hissing dark arcane curses.

They kept coming.

Kalamari fought with precision and fury, moving with the grace of a warrior born in battle. For every monster he felled, two more took its place. His blade howled through the night, cutting through fur, bone, and ice as golden sparks lit the trees.

The snow became red.

One of the trolls roared and slammed a massive icicle club down—but Kalamari caught it with his blade, redirected the force, then spun and severed both its legs in a flash. The creature hit the earth screaming. Another beast tried to flank him, but Kalamari dropped to one knee and thrust his blade up, spearing the monster through the underbelly.

For hours, he fought—silent, focused, tireless.

Nylok darted between enemies, raking claws across eyes and tearing through tendons. He feasted on frozen flesh and spat shadows that froze blood in place.

One by one, the monsters fell.

By dawn, the field was littered with broken ice beasts, their forms melting into puddles of magic-stained snow. Kalamari stood alone, breathing heavily, his blade steaming in the morning frost. Blood dripped from a gash on his shoulder, and Nylok limped slightly, but neither said a word.

From behind, Lakrima stirred, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "What...?"

Then she saw them—the bodies, the frost, the blood.

Unomi rose, grabbing her sword. Tozi stumbled to his feet, shocked silent.

Kalamari didn't look at them.

"They came in the night," he said simply. "They're gone now."

Unomi walked forward slowly, scanning the destruction. "All of them?"

Kalamari nodded.

Tozi blinked. "You didn't wake us?"

"I couldn't risk it," Kalamari said. "We need all of you alive. The real battle hasn't started."

Nylok curled at his feet, licking a wound. The little demon let out a satisfied grunt.

Lakrima stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Kalamari's arm. "You shouldn't carry all this alone."

Kalamari looked at her—his golden eyes dim but steady.

"I'm Arcadian," he said. "This is what we were made for."

The snow stopped falling.

The sun crept over the mountains.

And the group packed their things, hearts heavy with the weight of what was coming, as they rode toward the next kingdom—where worse awaited.

But none rode harder than Kalamari.

Because now, he had seen what Veth had released into the world.

And he would not let it reach the next gate alive.