The sun had barely begun to rise above the ruined walls when the delegation from the Kingdom of Carpathia appeared on the horizon. The city that had once been full of order and life now looked empty, broken, as if something had torn it apart from the inside. Houses leaned at unnatural angles, some completely collapsed, and the streets were covered in dust, smoke, and the remnants of a chaotic evacuation.
It was a scene that did not look like mere destruction, but something stranger, as if the land itself had rejected its inhabitants.
Amid the smoke and the distant echoes of the few survivors, the Kingdom's expedition advanced. And at the front, beside Princess Elizabeth's carriage, rode Lusian Douglas of Mondring.
His presence stood out even in the middle of the chaos. Not because of noise or exaggerated movements, but precisely because of the opposite. He remained completely calm, almost too still, as if nothing around him could disturb his concentration. That stillness contrasted sharply with the ruined surroundings, filled with debris and signs of a recent catastrophe.
Elizabeth rode beside him, observing the city with a serious expression, assessing the situation as the commander of the expedition. Lusian, meanwhile, never took his attention away from the immediate surroundings, as if he were evaluating every shadow, every movement, every possible invisible threat.
The air was saturated with unstable mana, causing the sunlight to filter through in strange ways, as though the atmosphere itself had become distorted. Even the movement of Lusian's horse seemed different, heavier, as if the world itself reacted to his presence in a subtle but constant way.
Around them, the expedition advanced cautiously, slowly entering what had once been a prosperous city and now resembled a territory abandoned by the normal rules of the world.
Around them moved nearly 7,500 people across fractured cobblestones.
4,500 soldiers of the Kingdom of Carpathia marched in perfect formation, with rigid discipline that did not break even in such an unstable environment. Every step was synchronized, as if the army itself were a single moving structure.
Behind and among them advanced nearly 3,000 civilians: priests, former adventurers, and volunteers who had followed Lusian and Princess Elizabeth out of faith, fear, or necessity. Unlike the soldiers, their movement was irregular. Some ran to help the wounded or inspect the remains of the city, while others walked with difficulty, overwhelmed by fear or the tension of the place.
That difference created a constant contrast within the column. The discipline of the army maintained the general order, but the civilian group introduced a visible instability, as though at any moment the rhythm of the advance could collapse.
The atmosphere in the ruined streets was fragile. Every step over the cracked cobblestones raised dust and made damaged structures creak. There was a constant sense of danger, as though the ground itself was not completely stable and could give way at any moment, forcing everyone to pay attention to every movement.
—Stay calm —Lusian whispered without taking his eyes off the front.
A strand of shadow slid from his mount and spread across the ground, moving between the hooves of nearby horses. Whenever it encountered a concentration of unstable mana, it slightly dispersed it, reducing small bursts of energy that distorted the surroundings.
—Stay close.
Elizabeth nodded discreetly. Her posture remained firm, as suited her position, but her tension was visible in subtle details, especially in the way her hands gripped more tightly than usual.
Ahead of them, a tree twisted by distorted energy moved unnaturally, as though it were trying to keep breathing without having a stable body. It was not the natural movement of vegetation, but a reaction to the corrupted mana saturating the area.
The priests began organizing the evacuation of the survivors who still remained among the ruins, guiding them toward safer zones within the expedition's perimeter.
On the flanks, Thunder, the lightning steed, and Umber, the living shadow with crimson eyes, remained alert, watching for any strange movement. Their presence was not only defensive, but also intimidating, as if even the environment itself hesitated before approaching them too closely.
The expedition advanced carefully through a city that no longer seemed completely stable, where every step could reveal a new collapsed area or another manifestation of uncontrolled mana.
The warriors and priests fought against mid-level creatures emerging from the remains of the city. They were not especially powerful monsters, but dangerous enough to keep the expedition in constant combat as they advanced through the ruins.
Lusian remained one step behind Princess Elizabeth. He did not participate in combat like the others. Instead, he raised dark barriers with exact precision whenever a threat managed to break through the defensive line. His goal was not to defeat the creatures, but to prevent any of them from getting close to the princess.
Every time an attack managed to pierce the formation, Lusian's shadow moved before the danger itself. Defenses appeared at exactly the right moment, deflecting blows, stopping charges, or dismantling ambushes that would have been lethal to anyone else.
Elizabeth continued advancing without stopping, trusting the constant protection surrounding her, though it was obvious the situation demanded attention in every direction.
A little farther back, Emily observed everything in silence. She saw how the monsters were being defeated by the Kingdom's heroes rather than by Lusian, but she also understood that the real difference was not who killed them, but how the battlefield itself seemed to organize around him. Every movement he made prevented a disaster before it could happen.
At one moment, Emily and Lusian exchanged glances. It lasted only an instant, but it was enough to leave a clear tension between them, something neither of them commented on. Lusian looked away first, returning his attention to Elizabeth and the surroundings. Emily, meanwhile, was left with the uncomfortable feeling that there were things he was not saying and probably never would.
The screams of survivors, mixed with the roars of the creatures, formed a constant noise accompanying the expedition's advance. It was not a clean or orderly battle. It was a forced march through a broken city, where every street could hide a threat and every corner could become an ambush.
Lusian sensed something strange in the atmosphere. The saturated mana was not only damaging the structure of the city, it was also affecting the people. Fear became heavier than normal, harder to control, as if the energy of the place itself were pushing humans into a constant state of tension.
At the same time, every battle, every spell cast by the priests, and every clash with the creatures left an accumulating sensation in the air, as though something invisible were reacting to the violence. Lusian did not say it aloud, but he sensed that none of this was a coincidence, but part of a larger phenomenon they still did not fully understand.
—This place… —Elizabeth murmured as she observed the ruins around her—. So many lives lost…
Lusian looked at her for a moment. His expression softened slightly before hardening again.
—We'll deal with this —he replied firmly.
He added nothing more, but his presence beside her made it clear that he would not allow danger to approach her.
The expedition continued advancing, leaving the destroyed city behind. Little by little, the ruins faded into the distance, though the echo of what had happened there remained in the minds of everyone who had witnessed it.
On the horizon, the silhouette of the Empire's capital began to take shape. It was still far away, but its presence already felt different. It was not just another city. It was the center of everything that was about to come.
As the column crossed the old marketplace, the ground trembled with a deep roar that caused even the most experienced soldiers to stop for a moment.
From among the ruins rose a level 65 chimera. It had three heads —wolf, dragon, and serpent— and each emitted fragments of pure mana that distorted the air around it. The stone beneath its feet cracked with every step, as though the environment itself could not withstand its presence.
The former adventurers reacted first, driven more by instinct than by any real strategy. They rushed toward the creature, trying to attack before it could advance, but the professional soldiers intercepted them immediately to stop them from charging in without coordination. Even so, some disorganized attacks managed to strike the chimera, creating more chaos than real damage.
Lusian intervened immediately, extending a wave of shadow that struck the creature hard enough to destabilize its advance for a moment. It was not an attack meant to defeat it, only to halt its momentum and prevent it from breaking the expedition's formation.
But the chimera recovered quickly. Its attention focused on the most visible fighters: the Kingdom's heroes, who had advanced to the front without coordinating with one another.
Emily attacked first. She used light magic to fire a direct beam toward the dragon head, partially blinding it. At the same time, Alejandro covered the serpent tail with intense flames, attempting to limit its movement. Leonardo and Kara split toward the flanks, attacking from different angles but without synchronizing their actions.
The problem appeared immediately.
The four heroes were fighting individually, not as a team.
Emily, by using her magic, also affected nearby civilians trying to escape. Alejandro, by creating pillars of fire, blocked the vision of part of the soldiers attempting to reorganize the defensive line. Leonardo launched electrical bursts without coordinating the space, nearly causing an accident with a priest retreating nearby. Kara, relying on her strength, attempted to confront the chimera directly without waiting for the others to stabilize the battlefield.
Within seconds, the battle stopped being an organized strategy and became a chaotic clash inside an already unstable zone.
—Fall back, heroes! —Lusian shouted with a firm voice.
It was not a cry of panic, but one of absolute control.
As he spoke, he kept one hand near Elizabeth while the other extended his shadow across the ground. Darkness spread like a flexible layer that absorbed part of the impact from the disorganized attacks while simultaneously forming a barrier protecting the civilians behind the combat line.
The chimera tried to advance again, but Thunder reacted first.
The lightning steed unleashed a precise burst that struck the creature's hind legs. It was not an attack of brute force, but a perfectly aimed impact, enough to break its balance and halt its charge.
At the same time, Umber moved around the monster, attacking specific points to disrupt its stability without allowing it to regain its rhythm. Its movements were not spectacular, but they were precise.
The Kingdom's soldiers took advantage of the moment.
Without breaking formation, they organized themselves into a defensive semicircle. They raised enchanted shields and reinforced spears, creating a solid line that did not seek to attack directly, but to contain the chimera and limit its movement space.
Behind them, the priests began acting together. Their spells were not individual, but synchronized. Mana barriers connected with one another, forming a stable network that controlled the battlefield and reduced the creature's room to maneuver.
In contrast to the heroes' initial chaos, this structure functioned as a complete system. Every group had a clear role, and every action fit with the next without interfering with the others.
The chimera became trapped, not by individual strength, but by coordination.
—Emily, focus the beam on the tail, not the civilians! —Lusian ordered firmly.
This time, Emily reacted immediately. She adjusted her spell in midair and redirected the attack with greater control, avoiding the area where civilians were trapped beneath rubble.
Alejandro clenched his teeth, clearly frustrated, but forced himself to stop his attacks for a second when he realized he was blocking more than helping.
—Wait for the opening —Lusian said without looking directly at him.
Kara, who until now had been applying direct pressure, finally began to see the pattern. It was not strength against strength. It was control of space. She changed her approach and pushed the chimera toward a flank Thunder and Umber had already weakened.
Thunder attacked again with precision, forcing the creature to lose stability. Umber took advantage of the opening to strike specific points, reducing its ability to move.
Within minutes, the battlefield changed completely.
The chimera no longer had freedom of movement. It was cornered.
The civilians were no longer in immediate danger.
The soldiers maintained the line without breaking formation.
And the heroes, though still tense, had begun adapting to the rhythm of organized combat.
The creature released one final roar, but it no longer had a clear escape route. Finally, it retreated and fled toward the destroyed harbor, disappearing among the ruins.
The silence left afterward was heavy.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at Lusian while he continued watching the surroundings carefully.
—Without your strategy, everyone would have fallen —she said softly, leaning slightly against him—.
Her tone was not exaggerated, but sincere, carrying a mixture of relief and respect.
Around them, the heroes observed Lusian in silence. It was neither pure admiration nor complete rejection. It was something in between: they had understood that individual power meant very little without real coordination.
And without using his sword for anything other than protecting Elizabeth, Lusian had been the point that prevented disaster.