The camp had become a furnace.
Rain-soaked earth hissed beneath the spreading flames as burning canvas collapsed inward, sparks drifting into the damp night like dying stars. Smoke clung low to the ground, thick and bitter, crawling through the torn tents and shattered lanterns of the Lust faction's compound.
Bjorn moved through it like a wounded animal refusing to die.
Mia's hammer roared past his face, the wind of it tearing through his tangled hair. He twisted aside, boots sliding in wet ash as the weapon slammed into the soaked soil with a violent crack. The ground shuddered. Bjorn answered with a low swing toward her ribs, but Mia pivoted smoothly, her body turning with the grace of someone who had fought countless battles. Her second hammer came in fast from the side.
Bjorn raised his forearm to intercept.
Pain exploded through his injured wrist.
His guard faltered for half a heartbeat.
The hammer glanced off his shoulder, forcing him backward through a curtain of smoke. His boot struck something soft—one of the fallen Lust soldiers—and he nearly lost his balance before catching himself.
Another swing came.
Bjorn ducked.
Firelight flickered across Mia's face as she pressed forward relentlessly, twin hammers weaving arcs through the burning air.
Bjorn's breathing was ragged now.
Heavy.
Slow.
Damn it…
His mind dragged behind his body, sluggish beneath exhaustion. Every movement pulled at the torn flesh of his wrists where the ropes had eaten into him earlier. Hunger gnawed at his gut like an animal with teeth, and every breath scraped his ribs raw.
And still she kept coming.
Bjorn's eyes narrowed through the smoke.
At this rate…
He slipped under another swing, boots sliding in mud and blood.
I'll die…
Mia's hammer smashed into the charred remains of a support beam beside him, splintering it in half.
…if I don't snap out of it.
Across from him, Mia said nothing.
But inside, her thoughts stirred with quiet disbelief.
He should have fallen already.
The wolf's body was a mess—wrists shredded, breathing uneven, blood leaking steadily from half a dozen wounds. Anyone else in that condition would be barely standing.
Yet he was still moving.
Still fighting.
Still keeping up with her.
Her golden eyes flickered briefly with surprise.
What kind of monster are you…?
But the moment passed.
And she attacked again.
Mia stepped forward, raising one hammer high above her shoulder.
This time the strike came straight down.
Direct.
Brutal.
Almost careless.
Like bait.
Bjorn saw it immediately.
His lips curled into a crooked, arrogant smirk.
"Too obvious…"
Just before the hammer landed—
CRACK.
His fist shot forward, slamming into Mia's wrist.
The impact twisted her grip open and the hammer slipped free, spinning through the smoky air.
Mia reacted instantly.
Her second hammer came rushing toward his head.
Bjorn moved again.
Another sharp punch.
Another crack of bone and metal.
The second hammer tore from her grasp and flew upward, spinning wildly above them.
Both weapons now sailing into the night sky.
Bjorn stepped forward before she could recover.
His hands shot out.
Grabbing both of hers.
Locking her wrists tight.
His grin widened through the blood on his teeth.
"Gotcha."
Mia looked up at him.
And smiled.
"Are you sure?"
Before Bjorn could react—
Her body dropped backward.
She lunged her legs up behind her, folding like a coiled spring as she flipped backward in a smooth, violent back tumble.
Bjorn's eyes widened.
The hammer he had knocked away earlier was falling.
And Mia caught it—
With her feet.
Her toes hooked around the handle midair with perfect precision.
Using the momentum of her flip, she whipped the hammer downward like a pendulum.
The strike came from below.
Too fast.
Too sudden.
Bjorn barely had time to turn—
CRASH.
The hammer slammed into his shoulder.
Bone cracked.
Blood exploded into the air, splattering across the damp ground and burning canvas around them.
Bjorn's grip broke instantly.
His body staggered back.
Then dropped.
One knee hitting the soaked earth with a dull thud.
Smoke drifted between them.
Bjorn's arm hung uselessly at his side, blood running down his sleeve.
His teeth clenched as pain flooded his nerves.
This woman…
His breath shook.
She was willing to sacrifice an arm for that attack…
"Damn it…"
Mia stepped forward slowly, retrieving her fallen hammer from the wet soil.
Firelight flickered across her ruined cheek, the bite wound from earlier now dark with dried blood.
Her golden eyes looked down at him.
Cold.
Amused.
"Have you finally learned your place?"
The burning tents crackled behind her, rain-soaked earth steaming beneath the spreading flames as the night watched the wolf kneel.
The air around Bjorn trembled with heat.
Even kneeling, he could feel it.
His body temperature was rising—no, boiling. Each breath came heavier than the last, ragged and animalistic, dragging through blood-filled lungs. His wounds had reopened completely now. Blood ran freely down his arms, dripping from his torn wrists where the ropes had once bound him. His shoulder, shattered moments earlier by Mia's hammer, pulsed violently, soaking his side in crimson.
Yet he remained on his knees.
Barely conscious.
Perhaps not conscious at all.
Before him, Mia stood beneath the crimson moon.
She spread her arms wide.
A perfect T-pose, each hand gripping one of her heavy war hammers. The weapons hung at her sides like extensions of her body, dark silhouettes against the burning camp behind her.
The red moonlight bathed her face.
The flames reflected in her golden eyes.
"Oh…"
Her voice came out soft, trembling with a strange pleasure.
"How I wonder…"
The burning tents crackled behind her as injured Lust soldiers struggled desperately to smother the flames spreading across the damp camp. Rain-soaked earth steamed beneath the growing fires, the smell of wet ash and blood thick in the air.
Mia tilted her head slowly, staring down at the kneeling wolf.
"Will you finally be obedient… if I paint your blood upon a tent… where this dazzling crimson moon can shine upon it?"
Her voice shivered with a disturbing delight—like someone savoring the final moment before an overwhelming sensation.
Bjorn heard her.
But he couldn't see anymore.
Darkness swallowed his vision completely.
His body swayed slightly where he knelt, blood loss dragging him deeper into unconsciousness. Hunger gnawed through his empty stomach, his strength long since drained.
The world around him faded.
Only sound remained.
And within that darkness—
A voice.
A familiar one.
Cold.
Calm.
"I own you."
The witch.
Bjorn's fingers twitched.
Something deep inside him stirred.
Anger.
In reality, Mia leaned closer.
Her voice sharpened.
"What do you say?"
Her grip tightened on her hammer.
"Are you finally going to be obedient?"
Bjorn's head remained lowered.
Unmoving.
Then suddenly—
His chest expanded.
A breath tore into his lungs.
And though his eyes remained shut—
He roared.
"GO TO HELL… DAMN HAG!"
Mia froze.
For a split second.
Her eye twitched.
Her smile vanished.
She thought the words were meant for her.
And something inside her snapped.
Elsewhere—
Aira burst through the edge of the Lust camp.
Her breath caught immediately.
The sight before her stopped her cold.
Chaos.
Tents burned across the soaked ground, orange flames clawing toward the dark sky as injured Lust faction members desperately tried to contain the spreading fire. Some kicked dirt over the flames, others dragged torn canvas away before the blaze could spread further.
The entire camp looked like it had been struck by a storm.
Aira's eyes widened.
This…
Then a memory surfaced in her mind.
Lan's calm voice.
A quiet warning.
"Destruction follows Bjorn wherever he goes."
Her heart pounded.
"Bjorn…"
She began searching frantically through the smoke.
Her eyes darted from one burning tent to another.
Seconds passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Then she saw it.
In the distance—
The Lust leader.
Standing beneath the red moon.
Arms spread wide.
Hammers in both hands.
Bjorn kneeling before her.
Aira's blood ran cold.
"BJORN!"
She started running.
Back at the center of the camp—
Mia lowered her head slightly.
Her hand rose to cover her eyes.
The other still held a hammer.
"How unfortunate…"
Her voice trembled with cold disappointment.
"I was prepared to dispose of you… if I couldn't have you anyway."
Her fingers tightened around the weapon's handle.
Then she swung.
With everything she had.
The hammer roared through the air.
And—
CRACK.
The weapon slammed into Bjorn's skull.
The impact echoed across the burning camp like thunder.
Blood burst outward, spraying across the wet ground as Bjorn's body collapsed sideways into the mud.
The crimson moon hung silently above.
The flames crackled.
Smoke drifted.
From across the camp—
Aira saw it.
Her eyes widened in pure horror.
"NO!!"
She ran faster, tears forming instantly as panic surged through her chest.
"dont you dare touch him!"
Her voice tore through the night as she sprinted toward them, throwing furious threats into the burning air.
But Mia didn't even hear her.
She stood over Bjorn's fallen body.
Completely focused.
Completely calm.
As the wolf lay motionless beneath the crimson moon.
what say you?