The wind grew colder as they traveled westward, away from the broken Ardent Veil and toward the next stronghold—Elarion, a sanctuary untouched by war... or so it seemed.
Seraphen walked behind Kaien, his presence a quiet reminder that not all power came from violence. Yet even he seemed uneasy.
"The veil here... it feels wrong," Iria murmured, her staff glowing with warding light. "Like we're being watched."
"You are," came a voice. Gentle. Sultry. Too perfect.
They froze.
From the mist stepped a woman cloaked in elegant gold-laced robes, eyes shimmering with pink light. Her beauty was unnatural, mesmerizing—and hollow.
Solryn's breath caught in his throat. "That's not human."
Kaien gripped his sword. "Who are you?"
She smiled, placing one finger on her lips.
"I am what your heart desires. The warmth you lost. The peace you crave. The love your soul aches for." Her tone twisted as her eyes flashed with something feral. "I am Remiel, once the Commandment of Love. Now… I am free."
Seraphen stepped forward, hand trembling. "Remiel… we thought you were dead."
She laughed, crystalline and cruel. "No, Mercy. I was reborn. Love cannot die—it only changes."
Behind her, a pillar crumbled, revealing rows of citizens kneeling, faces blank with devotion. Controlled. Emptied.
"She's feeding off them," Iria whispered. "Twisting love into submission."
Kaien's sword ignited with dark light. "So this is the truth you fear us finding, Alteron…"
Remiel's grin widened. "Oh no, little truthbreaker. I want you to find it. I want you to look into the heart of the light you serve… and break."
Then she vanished into pink mist, her voice echoing in Kaien's mind:
"When Elias falls, you'll be mine too."
Kaien's jaw clenched.
The war wasn't just physical.
It was emotional. Spiritual.
And the battlefield now extended into the soul.