The battlefield was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ash drifted through the broken air where thousands had fallen. The storm clouds above Eryndor still churned, but slower now, as if even the sky was catching its breath. The tower loomed overhead—Atlas—its upper floors hidden beyond the clouds, watching.
Kaelus rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard.
"Mid diff my ass," he muttered, then straightened with a grin. "Still worth it."
Rein cracked his neck. "Yeah. Warm-up's over."
Stellar turned, ice melting off her arms. "Let's move. I don't like lingering."
Darius was the first to feel it.
His smile didn't fade—but his eyes sharpened.
"…Hold."
The air shifted.
Not pressure.
Not killing intent.
Authority.
Cold. Ancient. Patient.
A laugh echoed behind them.
Slow. Amused.
Mocking.
"Well now," the voice said, smooth and entertained, "you won't even let a man finish his sentence?"
The five turned as one.
Grim stood where ash had been moments ago.
Whole.
Unbroken.
Alive.
Dark magic poured from him like a second atmosphere, his presence heavier than before—refined, stabilized, complete. His cloak fluttered though there was no wind near him, and his smile was wide with delight.
Rein blinked. "…Didn't we kill you?"
Grim laughed, spreading his arms.
"I was about to say—" he paused deliberately, eyes glowing, "—it's just beginning."
The ground trembled.
Then it answered him.
All across the battlefield, the earth cracked open.
Hands burst free.
Claws.
Fangs.
Bone and armor and ruined flesh dragged itself upward.
The dead rose again.
And again.
And again.
Beyond the undead soldiers—mages crawled from graves long forgotten, curse markings still burned into their remains. Beasts followed—massive shapes that blotted out the ground beneath them, world-class monsters reborn from centuries past, their power intact, their rage endless.
Ten thousand became a hundred thousand.
A hundred thousand became millions.
The battlefield turned black with motion.
Grim looked at them, eyes alight.
"Let's have one more go."
Eryndor exhaled slowly.
Then he smiled.
"I knew it wasn't so easy."
Darius laughed, shadows rippling at his feet.
"Yeah. Wouldn't be Atlas otherwise."
Stellar laughed outright—sharp, thrilled—as she launched herself forward.
"Try to keep up."
Rein leapt beside her, fist already cocked back.
"Now that's what I'm talking about! A real challenge!"
Kaelus sighed, drawing Tempest Blade and resting it against his shoulder.
"…Guess I'll have to work harder."
And then—
They moved.
The undead surged like a tide.
Kaelus was first to meet them.
He vanished into motion, blade singing as he cut through ranks of revenants and beasts alike. Every strike of Tempest Blade carved wind into the wounds it left behind—regeneration slowed, halted, denied.
A massive undead chimera lunged.
Kaelus ran up its arm, leapt, and split its skull in two with a descending arc that ripped the air apart.
"Too slow," he muttered, landing lightly.
Nearby, Stellar turned the battlefield into her canvas.
With a simple gesture, ice spread across the ground in expanding rings, freezing undead mid-charge. She flicked her wrist—
—and thousands of ice spikes formed above her, suspended in the air like a crown.
They fell.
The impact echoed like thunder as frozen bodies shattered beneath them.
Rein didn't bother with finesse.
He crashed into the densest cluster of undead, fists coated in dominion energy, every strike detonating force through multiple targets at once.
One punch erased a monster's upper body.
A kick sent another flying half a kilometer before it stopped moving.
He laughed as he fought, blood and dust spraying across his arms.
"COME ON! I KNOW YOU'VE GOT MORE!"
Darius stepped once.
His shadow stretched.
Where it touched, undead stopped moving.
He snapped his fingers.
Blades formed from darkness and rose from the ground, cutting through enemies in clean, silent arcs. Shadows pulled bodies down, dragged them away, erased them from the battlefield entirely.
Calm. Precise. Absolute.
Yet even as they fought—
The undead kept coming.
Because Grim stood untouched.
And Eryndor faced him alone.
"You're persistent," Grim said, walking forward as curses formed and dissolved around him. "Most assume killing the caster ends the spell."
Eryndor met him halfway, lightning dancing across his arms.
"Most casters don't cheat death for a living."
Their clash sent shockwaves through the field.
Storm and dark magic collided, tearing trenches through the ground. Grim raised barriers of necromantic force; Eryndor shattered them with raw momentum and lightning-charged strikes.
Grim countered with curses layered in sequences—erosion, decay, suppression.
Eryndor broke through them anyway.
"You hit harder than before," Grim noted, stepping back. "But you're still missing something."
Eryndor narrowed his eyes.
Grim smiled.
"You can't kill what doesn't die."
They exchanged blows at speeds that distorted perception. Grim's magic repaired his body almost instantly; wounds closed before blood could spill.
Eryndor noticed.
Again.
And again.
"…So that's it," Eryndor said suddenly.
Grim raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Eryndor blocked a strike and leaned in slightly, storm crackling louder.
"It's pretty neat."
Grim frowned.
"What is?"
Eryndor's eyes gleamed.
"Your source."
For the first time—
Grim froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
His gaze flicked—instinctively—toward the tower wall behind him.
That was all Eryndor needed.
He kicked Grim straight into Atlas.
The impact carved a massive crater into the tower's structure, stone and metal collapsing inward.
Eryndor didn't slow.
He raised his hand.
"Domain authority."
Darkness surged.
Wind howled.
Lightning screamed.
The three forces merged, spiraling into a rotating spear of compressed power—dense enough that the air itself screamed as it formed.
Grim burst from the rubble, rushing forward, rage burning through his expression.
"You think that's enough?!"
Eryndor's eyes locked onto a point behind Grim.
"I think your timing's perfect."
He hurled the spear.
The sound barrier shattered.
Space itself distorted.
The spear crossed the distance faster than thought—piercing Grim's chest, tearing through him, and continuing onward—
Straight into the hidden core embedded within Atlas' structure.
The core shattered.
Light erupted.
Grim screamed.
His body came apart mid-motion, dark magic unraveling as the source powering him collapsed into nothing.
Across the battlefield—
The undead stopped.
Then they fell.
Millions of bodies dissolved into dust, ash, and fading mana.
Silence returned.
Slowly.
A black door manifested where the core once was.
Kaelus exhaled, leaning on his sword.
"…Man. That was exhausting."
Darius nodded, shadows settling back into place.
"It was indeed troublesome."
Rein wiped blood from his cheek, grinning.
"That was fun."
Stellar smirked, ice fading from her fingertips.
They all looked toward the door.
Eyes fierce.
Smiling.
Unbroken.
Atlas hadn't ended them.
And they weren't done yet.