The storm had no mercy that night.
Winds howled across the ravaged plains like beasts freed from their cages, tearing through broken banners and shattered wagons. The sky itself bled gray, thunder cracking open its veins, pouring rain that washed over corpses and steel alike. Yet amidst that chaos—shadows moved.
Reiji stood atop the ridge, his cloak whipping in the gale, his eyes locked on the battlefield below. The enemy lines had broken hours ago, but they refused to flee. They fought like men possessed, cornered beasts that clawed even as the noose tightened.
Behind him, Kaede's voice cut through the storm.
"Reiji! The eastern flank is collapsing! If we don't reinforce—"
"I know," he interrupted, his voice quiet, yet it carried through the roar. "But if we split now, they'll surround us. We hold this line, or none of us walk away."
Kaede's lips pressed into a thin line. Her armor was drenched, her blade trembling slightly—not from fear, but exhaustion. Around them, the Shadow Vanguard—their small, ragged band—tightened formation. Fifty souls left from the original three hundred. Every face bore the same hollow look of men who had seen too much.
The storm intensified. Lightning illuminated the horizon, where banners of the Dominion army twisted and fell into the mud. From the darkness came the clang of steel and the distant wail of horns—their signal to charge.
Reiji exhaled slowly. "Then we answer."
He drew his blade. The moment the steel caught the lightning, it gleamed like a piece of night torn into form.
"Vanguard—forward!"
The world became a blur of rain and metal. Feet pounded into soaked earth as they rushed down the ridge, screaming through the storm. Arrows hissed through the air, barely visible before they buried themselves in shields and flesh alike. But Reiji didn't slow. Every swing of his blade cut through the chaos like purpose incarnate.
He ducked under a spear, slashed its wielder across the chest, then pivoted to parry a second strike. Each motion was precise—no wasted strength, no hesitation. Around him, Kaede fought with silent fury, her dual blades flashing in arcs of silver and crimson. Blood mixed with rain, painting the ground beneath them a sickening shade of black.
For every enemy that fell, two more came.
The storm made everything indistinguishable—friend and foe blurred into one writhing mass of violence. Screams vanished beneath the thunder. Yet even amidst that madness, Reiji could feel something… wrong.
The storm wasn't natural.
It pulsed.
Between lightning flashes, shadows moved where they shouldn't have. The wind whispered in a tongue he couldn't understand, and the rain carried a metallic taste. Then—he saw it. A figure standing unmoving amidst the battlefield, untouched by the wind or the rain.
A man in black armor, its surface engraved with sigils that glowed faintly red beneath the stormlight.
Kaede noticed too. "Reiji—who is that?"
He didn't answer. His heart pounded once, twice—and then the figure moved. It didn't walk; it shifted, appearing closer between the strikes of lightning. Soldiers who charged toward it never made contact—their blades passed through like mist, and in the next moment, they fell with throats slit by an unseen force.
A commander of the Dominion? No. Something else. Something beyond.
"Kaede! Pull the left flank back!" Reiji shouted, forcing his voice through the wind. "Don't engage it directly!"
But before the order could spread, the figure raised its blade to the sky. The storm answered.
Thunder exploded. A shockwave of wind tore through the field, sending men flying like leaves. Reiji dug his sword into the mud to anchor himself, the rain cutting his face like shards of glass. When the light cleared, dozens lay dead—both sides.
Kaede coughed, clutching her side. "What in the hells is that thing?"
Reiji stared, expression unreadable. "A harbinger. The Dominion's stormcaller."
He had heard the whispers—their elite, born not of blood but of rituals. Mages turned soldiers, bound to the will of their king. Weapons disguised as men.
The harbinger turned toward him, its red eyes locking onto his. A sound followed—not words, not human. A resonance that crawled beneath his skin. Then it raised its sword again, and the world flashed white.
Reiji barely blocked in time. The impact sent him skidding back, boots carving trenches through the mud. Sparks hissed where their blades met, rain turning to steam around them. The air vibrated with power.
His arm trembled. The harbinger pressed forward, its strength inhuman. Reiji gritted his teeth, shifted weight, and twisted, breaking the lock. He struck low—only for the blade to pass through shadow.
The figure vanished.
Lightning behind. Instinct screamed. Reiji turned, parrying just as the harbinger reappeared mid-swing. The shock rattled his bones, his grip nearly giving way. He countered, slashing upward, catching the edge of the figure's pauldron—metal cracked, and a faint glow seeped from beneath.
It bled light.
Reiji's eyes narrowed. "So you can be hurt."
The storm howled louder, almost in defiance.
He didn't wait. Step forward, pivot, strike—each movement fueled by grim resolve. The harbinger met him blow for blow, every clash echoing like thunder. Sparks and rain merged, flashes of light illuminating faces long gone, haunting Reiji's vision with every strike.
Kaede joined the fight, slashing from behind, her blades dancing in the rain. Together, they forced the creature back inch by inch. But then, the harbinger thrust its hand forward—and Kaede froze mid-motion. Her body trembled as veins of red light snaked beneath her skin.
"Kaede!" Reiji roared, lunging forward.
The harbinger turned its head slightly, as if amused. It raised its blade, ready to finish her.
Reiji's world narrowed to a single motion.
He slammed his foot into the mud, launching himself forward with all he had left. The impact when his sword struck the harbinger's chest cracked the air like lightning itself. The armor split. The figure staggered, a distorted sound escaping its throat—half-scream, half-static—before it dissolved into mist.
The rain fell heavier. The storm began to fade.
Reiji caught Kaede before she collapsed. Her breathing was ragged, but alive. The red glow receded slowly from her veins.
He exhaled, relief hidden behind exhaustion.
"It's over," she whispered weakly.
He looked up at the dark sky.
"No," he said quietly. "The storm's just beginning."
The battlefield around them was silent now—no cries, no clashing steel, only the endless rain washing over what remained. The Shadow Vanguard stood scattered, faces turned toward their commander. Broken, but not defeated.
Reiji rose, blood and rain dripping from his sword.
"Gather the wounded," he ordered. "We move before dawn."
Kaede looked at him, eyes weary but burning. "Where?"
"South," he said. "To the ruins of Vel'thar. That's where the next storm will break."
As the lightning faded behind them, the wind carried a whisper—an echo of the harbinger's dying resonance.
And far beyond the clouds, in a citadel untouched by the storm, another figure opened his eyes.