Civilar, Yajin, and Ou'weii stood at the threshold of the dark forest.
The trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches weaving together to form a suffocating wall of shadow. A thick, cloying mist clung to the roots, and the air was heavy with the scent of damp pine and frozen earth. The birds had long since fled into silence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, afraid to stir the stillness.
Civilar stepped forward, his eyes sharp and cold. "This is it," he said, his voice a low, jagged rasp. "Beyond these woods lies the sanctuary. A hidden field of green—and every soul belonging to the Black Tails."
He raised his hands. In a blinding burst of white light, two massive blades materialized. They were thick, wickedly curved, and joined by a heavy iron chain that rattled with the sound of a waking serpent.
Behind him, Yajin bounced on the balls of his feet, a manic grin stretching across his face. "Ooh, finally! The waiting is the worst part. I can't wait to see how many we can break!" He hugged his own blade to his chest like a cherished toy.
Ou'weii let out a weary sigh. "Easy, murder-mime. It's going to be a chore, not a festival. We have to deal with their three strongest first. It's going to be a massive headache."
Civilar's lips curled into a smirk. "We shall see."
He plunged into the forest, and the others followed. They trekked through the gloom for several minutes, the only sound the rhythmic crunch of boots over dead leaves and snapping twigs. Gradually, the trees began to thin, the light of day bleeding through the canopy until, finally, they stepped out into the hidden clearing.
A vast, emerald field stretched before them, serene and untouched. Sunlight bathed the grass in a golden glow that felt like a mockery.
The field was empty.
No tents. No cookfires. No dragons. No Black Tails.
Nothing but the wind.
Civilar stopped dead in his tracks. His face contorted, veins bulging at his temples. "What the... what is the meaning of this!?"
He stormed into the center of the clearing, his boots thudding against the sod. He dropped to a crouch, his eyes scanning the grass like a hawk. He found the evidence: splinters of fresh wood, patches of flattened grass, deep depressions where massive dragon forms had rested, and the lingering, musky scent of dragon-kin.
"They were here," Civilar growled, his voice trembling with fury. "They were all here! Someone warned them!"
Yajin collapsed onto the grass with a dramatic groan. "This is so boring! You're telling me we sat around for a week for a game of hide-and-seek? Who could have leaked it? No one knew the plan but the Six."
Ou'weii crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "He has a point. But maybe they just moved? Perhaps after they retrieved the Dark Knight, they realized they could be tracked and relocated out of caution."
Civilar's eyes narrowed as he stood up. "No... it's too clean. Too deliberate." He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "There is a traitor among us."
Yajin's head snapped up, his grin returning with a sharp, dangerous edge. "A traitor? In our little family?" He laughed. "I bet it's Reia. I bet the Demon King wants to sabotage our fun just to see me twitch!"
Civilar let out a primal roar and kicked a clod of earth high into the air.
Ou'weii raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Let's be rational. Look at the three of us, and look at the others. Who has the most unsupervised time? Who could have reached out to a contact without being watched?"
Yajin squinted, his mind whirling. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Eiden!"
Civilar didn't move. "Perhaps. But Uzak'me is one of the Ten Celestials; his peers loathe us. And Reia's husband has no love for our cause. Any of them could have reason. But Eiden... he's quiet. He's predictable. I see no reason for him to risk his neck in a betrayal."
Ou'weii went perfectly still. A memory, cold and clear, began to surface from the fog of a few days prior.
Days Ago
Eiden, Ou'weii, and Uzak'me were walking down a sun-drenched dirt road. The sky was a bleeding orange, and the wind carried the scent of distant rain.
"Why go through the trouble of a betrayal?" Ou'weii had asked. "Why not just walk away?"
Eiden hadn't hesitated. "Because if we truly want peace, walking away isn't enough. We have to dismantle them. We have to eliminate Reia, Yajin, and Civilar."
Ou'weii had blinked in surprise.
"If we just leave," Eiden continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon, "Reia will return to the Demon King. His forces are limitless; we would be hunted to the ends of the earth. Yajin is a hound; he would chase us for the sheer sport of the kill. And Civilar..." Eiden's voice had dropped to a whisper. "Civilar would execute us before we could take ten steps. We cannot run from him."
Uzak'me had nodded slowly. "So, you attack them—the most skilled among us. You take a strike at Civilar when his guard is down, weakening him, stripping away his invincibility."
"Exactly," Eiden said. "We disband. We get stronger. We wait for the perfect moment—a moment when he is blinded by rage, distracted by a failure, and suspects a traitor in his midst. That is when I make my move. That is when I slash the heart of the group."
Present Day
Ou'weii blinked, the empty field rushing back into focus.
He said nothing. He watched Civilar pace like a caged animal, radiating a heat of pure, unadulterated malice. He watched Yajin scratch his head, already looking for something else to kill.
Ou'weii swallowed hard against a dry throat.
He knew now. Eiden had a reason. And the "perfect moment" Eiden had described...
It was happening right now.