The creak of wood came first.
Constant.
An uneven rhythm, strained under the weight it carried.
The wagon moved along the narrow road, cutting through the dense forest without haste — the wheels sinking slightly into the damp earth, leaving grooves that wouldn't last long.
The dark cloth covering swayed with the motion, filtering the pale light that managed to pass through the closed canopy above. It wasn't quite shadow.
But it wasn't light either.
The air was cold.
Not from the weather — but from what lingered there.
Silent.
The trees did not react to the wind as they should.
The branches moved too late.
The leaves… silent.
Inside the wagon, no one spoke.
Telvaris kept a firm posture, even seated — his body adjusted to the sway, gaze fixed ahead as if he were still marching.
Kael remained in absolute silence.
His head slightly inclined.
Feeling.
Not the path.
But what moved with them.
Éreon was still.
Fingers resting lightly over the katana, the touch precise, almost automatic.
His gaze did not rest on the road.
Nor on the inside of the wagon.
But on something beyond.
As if two layers of reality overlapped... and he watched both.
Brianna remained upright.
Without relaxing.
Without deviating.
Her gaze scanned the surroundings with each small shift of the wagon — not searching for immediate danger.
But confirming patterns.
Gaps.
Irregularities.
At the front, Karna drove.
The reins firm in his hands.
Posture loose.
But the control… absolute.
The silence was not uncomfortable.
It was deliberate.
Like something that had not yet been resolved… and awaited the exact moment to emerge.
The creak of the wheel shifted in tone as it passed over a deeper stone.
A brief adjustment in movement.
Nothing beyond that.
And then—
"Still angry, Brianna?"
Karna didn't turn his body, only slightly tilted his head, like someone who already knew the answer before hearing it.
"You asked for transport. I brought one that doesn't stand out, doesn't raise suspicion… and still keeps us moving."
Brianna didn't take long to answer.
"I asked for horses, Karna."
Her voice came low, firm, without any unnecessary rise.
"Not a cargo wagon."
He let out a short breath, almost a humorless laugh, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Then next time ask in a place where choice still exists."
His hand adjusted the reins slightly, guiding the animal through a firmer bend in the road.
"This was the best that village could offer."
A brief pause, but natural, without breaking the flow.
"A war doesn't pass without cost. And those who pay first… are never the ones who started it."
Brianna held the silence for a moment, as if weighing not the words, but what lay behind them.
"Villages always pay first."
Her tone remained controlled, but now there was something sharper beneath the surface.
"The difference is that, this time, it wasn't only survival that was taken from them."
She shifted her gaze for a brief second, following the line of the forest before continuing.
"It was structure."
Without altering her posture, she concluded:
"When nobility loses in the field, it compensates elsewhere. Taxes rise, harvests are taken, routes are closed… and what remains is reorganized to sustain what they still intend to keep standing."
Karna gave a slight nod, like someone who had already expected that reading.
"Exactly."
His fingers tightened on the reins for a moment before relaxing again.
"And a count who lost as much as they say doesn't gather men out of pride."
He tilted his head a bit more now, just enough for his voice to carry better to the back.
"He gathers because he needs to."
Silence settled between them again, denser than before — not from doubt… but from recognition.
"Not much longer."
Karna kept his eyes on the road, adjusting the reins slightly as the wagon moved between the trees.
"A few more hours… and we'll see the first lands of the county."
Silence returned for a brief moment, until Brianna moved.
She turned her face toward Éreon, holding his gaze with controlled firmness.
"Considering you don't know what followed the war a year ago, Éreon… I'll be brief."
Her voice came steady, with precise cadence, unhurried.
"The county you'll find is not the same."
A short pause, enough to settle the weight of the statement.
"Even with the support sent by the Emperor, the count suffered significant losses."
Her gaze did not waver.
"The forces of the Red District… and the orphanage… proved more efficient than expected."
Without changing her tone, she continued:
"The troops were reduced consistently, not in a single blow, but over the course of confrontations that wore down his structure."
She tilted her head slightly, as if organizing the sequence of facts.
"And by failing to achieve the objective imposed on him… the cost became inevitable."
A brief pause.
"Resources were drained.
Support was reevaluated.
And what remained had to be maintained by force."
Her gaze narrowed by a fraction.
Without raising her voice, she concluded:
"A weakened count… who still gathers what he can.
Not out of prudence.
Out of ambition."
A short, firm pause.
"And that is precisely what we will exploit."
Her gaze remained fixed, steady.
"He needs a new force.
And to obtain it… he has been gathering mercenaries from every corner."
Brianna's eyes then moved.
Slow.
Precise.
They passed over Telvaris.
Kael.
And finally, came to rest on Éreon.
When she spoke, her voice did not rise — but it carried direction.
"We are gathered here for a single purpose."
A short pause.
"The fall of the count."
Her gaze remained firm.
"And not by chance."
She held the silence for a moment before continuing.
"Each of us lost something under his rule."
Without dramatizing.
Without softening.
Only fact.
"But that is not what sustains us.
And it certainly will not be what carries us to the end."
Her gaze passed over the three again, unhurried.
"Prudence is not weakness."
"It's what separates intent from outcome."
Her voice dropped a degree, firm.
"He may be weakened."
"But he does not hold that position by accident."
"To underestimate him… will be the quickest mistake you can make."
A brief pause.
"When we cross the walls… do not look at what was lost.
Look at who remains beside you."
A final pause.
"Because a wrong choice… will not cost only your life."
Silence settled again.
This time… accepted.
No objections.
No one there needed one.
Only the constant sound of the wheels against the earth.
One by one, they nodded.
Not in agreement — but in understanding.
Ahead, the line of trees began to open.
The light changed.
The air as well.
Karna pulled the reins slightly, reducing the pace as the wagon left the forest's cover.
And then—
The walls emerged.
Tall. Heavy.
Marked by time… and by something more recent.
Before the gates, the line had already formed.
Men and women armed, worn cloaks, hard stares.
Karna watched for a moment, assessing the flow, the movement, the entry points.
Then he murmured, more to himself than to the others:
"Looks like we weren't the only ones invited."
The wagon slowed until it came to a full stop.
The wood gave in one last creak before silence settled once more.
Karna was the first to step down.
A simple movement.
Controlled.
His feet touched the ground lightly, but his gaze was already ahead — assessing.
One by one, the others followed.
Black cloaks.
Hoods raised.
No face fully exposed.
Their presence didn't stand out at first.
But it did not go unnoticed either.
They stopped beside the wagon.
All facing the same point.
The line.
Long.
Mercenaries of all kinds — some armed beyond necessity, others poorly equipped, but all with the same look: calculation, expectation… and something deeper.
Telvaris broke the silence.
His voice came firm, direct.
"There are far more than we estimated."
Brianna did not shift her gaze.
"That's a problem."
Karna let out a light breath through his nose, crossing his arms in a relaxed way.
"Problem?"
He tilted his chin toward the line.
"At this rate, it'll take us two days just to reach the gates.
Look at the size of that."
"It's not the line."
The answer came immediately.
Without rise.
Without hesitation.
Karna turned his face slightly.
"Then what is it?"
Brianna raised her hand subtly, pointing.
"That."
Karna's gaze followed the direction.
A banner.
Raised above the entry line.
Light fabric, almost pale under the filtered light.
At the center… a symbol.
An incomplete circle, cut through by a vertical blade.
Like something trying to divide what should not be separated.
Still.
But imposing.
He frowned slightly.
"It's a banner.
And?"
Brianna kept her gaze fixed.
"The symbol of the Faith."
A short pause.
"That indicates active presence of the Church in the entry process."
Karna let out a dry, quiet laugh.
"And what's so bad about that?"
Before Brianna answered, Telvaris stepped half a pace forward.
"The Church doesn't oversee."
"It judges."
The tone was direct.
Brianna resumed, without shifting:
"To them, all those who crossed the Abyss are considered heretics.
Without exception."
A short silence formed.
Karna tilted his head, thoughtful — but without losing the light tone.
"I still don't see the full problem."
"If you think about it… the count shouldn't even be gathering mercenaries."
He made a vague gesture with his hand.
"Most of those there crossed the Abyss precisely because they had no other option.
If the Church sees all as heretics… doesn't that directly conflict with what he's doing?"
For a moment, no one answered.
Then—
Brianna's eyes turned to him.
They met his without hurry.
When she spoke, her tone did not change.
But there was something denser beneath the words.
"There is a prophecy."
A brief pause.
"Spoken by Odin himself."
The silence around seemed to adjust.
"About the return of those who dared seek the fall of the gods."
Her gaze remained firm.
"They would not return as men.
But as something beyond that."
Unhurried.
Without dramatization.
"Abyssaes."
The word was not raised.
But it weighed.
"Those who crossed the Abyss… and came back."
A short pause.
"Now do you understand?"
Her gaze did not move.
"This isn't about faith."
"It's about control."
The wind passed lightly through the line.
Almost without sound.
Brianna concluded:
"For the Church… the reason doesn't matter."
"Only the fact."
"And that… is more than enough for judgment."
Brianna did not take her eyes off the banner for a moment longer.
Then she turned slightly.
Her eyes met Kael's.
"Can you identify any opening?"
Kael did not answer immediately.
He knelt.
The movement was slow, careful, as if each gesture obeyed a thought older than the action itself.
His fingers touched the ground.
For a moment… nothing.
Then, a subtle vibration ran through the soil.
It rose through his fingers.
Through his arms.
Spread.
He remained still.
Feeling.
Not what was ahead.
But what sustained everything around.
When he spoke, his voice came low.
Calm.
"No…"
A slight pause.
"There is no passage."
His fingers pressed lightly into the ground, as if testing an invisible resistance.
"The flow… does not disperse.
It returns."
Another pause.
"As if something contains it."
Kael withdrew his hand slowly.
His head remained slightly inclined.
"There is an interference.
Intentional."
Brianna turned her gaze forward again.
The banner.
The line.
The entry point.
"A barrier."
Karna frowned slightly, crossing his arms.
"And now?"
Brianna did not hesitate.
"You come with me."
The tone was direct.
No space for objection.
Then she added:
"The other three stay here.
Avoid unnecessary exposure."
Karna looked at her for a moment… and nodded.
Without further words, the two moved toward the line.
The rest remained still.
Waiting.