The Stain grew four Kilometres overnight.
Not at the edges—from within. New cracks opened in the earth. New shadows bled from the sky. The air itself felt thicker, harder to breathe, as if the world was slowly drowning.
Valeris ordered a full evacuation of the forward camp.
"We're pulling back to the valley," she announced. "The Stain is spreading faster than we can contain. We need to regroup."
Thalia slammed her hand on the table. "Regroup? We have people inside! Scouts, patrols—they're still out there!"
"They're gone, Thalia."
"You don't know that."
Valeris's voice was cold. "I know that no one has made contact in twelve hours. I know that the knights are moving closer. And I know that if we stay here, we'll all die."
Thalia looked at Aurelion. "Tell her."
Aurelion was silent for a long moment. Then: "She's right."
"You—!"
"We need to pull back. Not because we're giving up. Because we need time." He met her eyes. "Time to understand what we're dealing with. Time to prepare. Time to find a way to close that door for good."
Thalia stared at him. Then she turned and walked out.
Ami watched her go. "She won't forgive you."
"She doesn't have to. She just has to survive."
The retreat took two days.
Hundreds of hunters, support staff, and refugees moved south toward the valley. The roads were clogged with vehicles and wagons and people on foot. The Stain followed them—not quickly, but persistently, like a tide that never receded.
Aurelion walked at the rear.
Ami stayed beside him. Corrin and Kael flanked the column, watching the treeline for knights.
"You think they'll follow us?" Corrin asked.
"I think they're already following us," Kael said. "They're just waiting."
"For what?"
No one answered.
They reached the valley on the third day.
The walls had been reinforced. The watchtowers were manned. The gates were closed.
Valeris stood at the entrance. "We're setting up a defensive perimeter. Anyone who can fight will be assigned to a post."
Aurelion nodded. "Put Valley's Watch on the eastern ridge. That's where they'll come from."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
That night, Aurelion sat on the ridge.
The stars were still bright. The valley was still quiet. But the Stain glowed on the horizon—closer than before, brighter, angrier.
He reached inward. The upper dantian shuddered. 20% became 21%.
But the fear remained.
Not the fear of death. He had made peace with death long ago.
The fear of failure.
Of watching the valley fall. Of watching Ami fall. Of watching everyone who trusted him die because he wasn't strong enough to protect them.
This body, he thought. This weak, fragile body.
It's not enough.
But it's all I have.
Ami found him an hour later.
"You should sleep," she said.
"I should train."
"You should sleep."
He looked at her. "You're not sleeping either."
"Someone has to watch your back."
"Corrin can watch my back."
"Corrin is passed out in the common room. Kael is on watch. I'm here."
She sat beside him. The silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, but heavy.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm thinking that I should have been faster. Stronger. Better."
"You held the line."
"I almost died."
"But you didn't."
"This time."
She turned to face him. "Aurelion. Look at me."
He looked.
"You are not allowed to die," she said. "Not here. Not yet. Not ever."
"I can't promise that."
"Then promise me you'll try."
He held her gaze. "I'll try."
The knights came at dawn.
Not a wave—a line. Dozens of them, marching out of the Stain with mechanical precision. Their eyes burned red—not the cold blue of before, but something deeper, hungrier, almost alive. Crimson auras radiated from their bodies, distorting the air around them like heat haze.
The watchtowers sounded the alarm.
Valley's Watch took their positions on the eastern ridge. Aurelion at the center. Ami on his left. Corrin on his right. Kael behind them, pistols raised.
"Hold the line," Aurelion said. "Don't break. Don't retreat."
"And if they break through?" Corrin asked.
"They won't."
The knights advanced.
The first clash was brutal.
Aurelion met the lead knight head-on—blade against blade, will against will. 21% power channeled through every strike. The red aura pushed back, hot and oppressive, like fighting a furnace. The knight staggered but didn't fall.
Ami danced between two others. Their crimson auras made her movements sluggish, her mana draining faster than it should. Her blade found gaps, but each strike felt like cutting through tar.
Corrin held the flank, his spear and shield a wall of steel. The red light pressed against him, seeping through his armor, into his skin. His joints ached. His breath came in ragged gasps.
Kael fired into the crowd. His bolts curved mid-flight—not from distortion, but from the heat. The auras bent the mana, redirected it, made every shot a gamble.
But they held.
"Hold!" Aurelion shouted.
He pushed harder. 22%. 23%. The upper dantian screamed. His body screamed.
The lead knight's sword shattered under the force of his blow. Its red aura flickered, dimmed—then surged brighter.
Aurelion drove his blade through its chest.
The knight crumbled. The others hesitated. Their red eyes flickered toward the fallen, then back to the hunters.
"Now!" Aurelion shouted. "Push them back!"
They pushed.
The knights retreated—not fleeing, but withdrawing. Back into the Stain. Back into the darkness. Their crimson auras faded into the gloom like dying embers.
The line held.
Aurelion leaned on his sword, breathing hard. His vision swam. The red afterimages burned behind his eyelids.
Ami was beside him. "You're bleeding."
He looked down. His side had reopened. Blood soaking through his bandages.
"Are we serious, this JUST healed," he thought
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing." She pressed a cloth against the wound. "You need to see a medic."
"Later."
"Now."
He met her eyes. "After we secure the perimeter."
She didn't argue. But she didn't move her hand.
The knights didn't return.
The Stain continued to spread.
And somewhere, deep beneath the castle, in a tomb that should never have been opened—
Red eyes opened.