The moon hung low, swollen and red — like an omen carved across the heavens. Its light washed over the encampment, turning every shadow into something alive.
Rian sat before the fading fire, sharpening his blade in silence. Around him, the murmurs of soldiers had died down to uneasy whispers. Tomorrow would be the last march — or so he had believed.
But betrayal had a way of arriving before dawn.
A ripple of movement stirred in the far tents. A faint glint — metal flashing in the dark. Rian's instincts screamed. He moved before thought, his blade slicing through the air just as a spear shot toward him.
It missed his throat by an inch.
From the shadows stepped Kael, the once-loyal commander of the beastkin legions. His dark mane was matted with blood, his golden eyes gleaming with something colder than rage.
"Kael," Rian said quietly. "Why?"
Kael's voice was low, trembling with conviction. "Because the gods promised us freedom. You promised hope — but all you've brought is death."
"The gods enslaved your kind for centuries!" Rian spat. "You think they'll spare you now?"
Kael's grip on his spear tightened. "They don't need to spare me. They only need to destroy you."
A dozen armored beastmen emerged behind him — traitors all. Their faces were drawn, their loyalty buried under fear and divine lies.
Lyra rushed to Rian's side, her daggers drawn. "So this is it," she hissed. "You trade your soul for mercy that will never come."
Kael's gaze flicked to her — and for a brief moment, sorrow flashed there. "You were like a sister to me, Lyra. But the world you dream of doesn't exist."
Rian rose slowly, his sword shimmering faintly with starlight. "Then I'll carve it into existence."
The ground trembled as the two forces clashed. Sparks burst under every strike; claws met steel, blood met fire. Lyra moved like silver wind, her blades tracing death in arcs of light. Rian's sword howled with celestial energy, each swing shaking the air.
But Kael was strong — too strong. His spear struck like lightning, cracking Rian's armor and hurling him back. Blood stained the earth.
Kael's voice roared over the chaos. "You are no god, Rian! You are a beast pretending to be one!"
Rian struggled to his feet, his breath ragged, eyes blazing gold. "Then let me show you what kind of beast I am."
The moon flared crimson. The mark of the Star Wolf ignited across his chest — burning, alive.
Kael's eyes widened in horror.
Too late.
Rian vanished, reappearing behind him. One swing. One flash.
Silence.
Kael fell to his knees, blood trailing from his lips. "Maybe… you really are… the Sovereign…"
Then the light left his eyes.
Lyra stood beside Rian, trembling — not from fear, but from the weight of loss. "He was your friend."
Rian stared down at the fallen commander. "He was my brother," he whispered. "And this is what the gods wanted — for us to destroy ourselves."
The red moon glowed brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
And in its light, something vast stirred beyond the clouds —
a divine presence awakening.