Commencement

|Alistair|

"Tessia, watch your back!" I shouted, my scarlet eyes locked onto a swift shadow claw lunging towards my fiancée's abdomen. Reacting swiftly, she pivoted, her silver sword gleaming with deadly intent as she sliced the creature apart.

"Alistair, we're outnumbered and overwhelmed! We can't face this horde of beasts and soldiers alone!" Tessia coughed, her voice strained amidst the thick smoke that enveloped the once serene Elshire Forest.

A curse escaped my lips, silently concurring with her assessment. Never had I imagined the Alacaryans would be so audacious as to attempt the annihilation of the Elshire Forest through an inferno of flames. Yet, these were no ordinary flames; they resisted extinguishment, proving to be a formidable challenge.

Though I possessed the ability to snuff out the flames by depriving them of oxygen, it would drain my mana core entirely.

"This is dire," I murmured, my gaze surveying the intense battle between our mages and the relentless Alacaryan forces. While individually they were not overly powerful, their sheer numbers and the raging inferno had negated the natural advantages of the elves within the Elshire Forest, tipping the scales against us.

Abruptly, my omnidirectional vision detected the presence of five formidable entities, surpassing even the might of Cadell.

Swiftly pivoting, I conjured swirling black flames of vivum, launching them towards the figures. Yet, their agility proved unmatched as they effortlessly evaded my assault.

"As expected of a Claxter," resonated a commanding voice, sending shivers down my spine. The leader emerged, a towering figure with a commanding presence. His earth-brown locks cascaded around sturdy, corkscrew horns rising several inches from his head. Clad in red chainmail beneath an imposing black half-plate adorned with protective runes, he radiated power.

Though not a pure-blooded Vritra, his strength surpassed even that of Cadell.

My throat tightened as a bead of sweat traced a path down my cheek. I was expected to face not one, but five adversaries of such caliber?

The weight of protecting both Tessia and Aya in the face of such overwhelming odds felt insurmountable, even for someone like me.

"Tessia," I spoke, my voice laced with urgency, "You must retreat."

"No, I won't leave you to fight alone," Tessia countered, stepping closer to me. In that moment, warmth spread through my heart, but I swiftly suppressed it with a steely resolve.

"Ohhh, look at the Lesser princess, determined to shield her Asuran prince~" taunted another Vritra, his thick blond braids swaying as his blood-red eyes and onyx horns revealed themselves. The horns curved out and down from the sides of his head, almost meeting again under his chin.

The other Vritras erupted into laughter. Before Tessia could respond, I unleashed the power of King's Force, causing reality itself to bend.

"Silence," I whispered, and the words became lodged in the throats of the Vritras like trapped echoes. Tessia's expression contorted in shock, mingled with a hint of fear, but I disregarded it.

How she looked at me was inconsequential as long as she remained safe.

"Retreat, Tessia," I commanded firmly, my tone unwavering. "I will handle these five adversaries. If you seek to intervene, then you should have been stronger."

A pained expression crossed her face as her body trembled. She turned her head away before finally retreating, hurt and resentment etched into her features.

"Seems like the Claxters haven't changed their cold demeanor."

The rasping voice slithered out of the shadows, crawling into my ears like a swarm of unsettling insects, sending shivers down my spine. His bright red eyes were marred by dark, swirling patches that floated over their surface, mirroring the ashen-grey marks that mottled his cold, marble skin.

Beside him, the fourth Vritra remained partially concealed within living shadows. Brief glimpses revealed her jet-black hair twisted into horns atop her head, and her dark, ox-blood eyes set amidst her dusky, ebony complexion.

As for the fifth Vritra, she stood tall, her skin resembling polished marble, encased in imposing black plate armor. Only her face and head were exposed, showcasing short, vibrant blue hair styled into fierce spikes around her ridged horns. Runes resembling lightning bolts adorned her scarlet eyes.

"Enough," the leader commanded, his deep baritone drowning out the other voices. "Cease your petty banter. You lower yourselves." With a flick of his wrist, a coiled lash of dark green, putrid liquid materialised in his hand, and he locked eyes with me. "We shall waste no more words on you, Claxter."

|Lancelot|

The man's emerald eyes flashed with danger as he tilted his head, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, I wasn't even prepared yet. Why the rush to meet me?"

Gone was the military attire he had worn on the fleet, replaced now by a relaxed bathrobe that seemed out of place amidst the chaos of the battlefield.

"Let's reconvene later, shall we?" he quipped, casually dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

Suppressing the rising sense of dread, I swallowed hard before retorting, "Do you honestly think I'll let you slip away once more?"

His body convulsed, bending forward before his head snapped back with a burst of maniacal laughter. A solitary tear escaped from his left eye, swiftly wiped away with a dismissive gesture.

"Apologies, apologies," he chortled, shaking his wrist, "But my dear conjurer, do you truly believe I'm the one making an escape here?"

As his finger moved with a fleeting gesture, a cascade of ethereal swords erupted into existence around me, their gleaming forms materializing in a blur of motion. My eyes widened in disbelief, my breath catching in my throat, as the air filled with the ethereal glimmer of deadly blades.

The world seemed to slow down as I took in the sight of the ethereal swords swirling and shimmering around me, their presence an undeniable testament to the power and speed of my adversary. My heart raced, pounding against my chest, as the realization sank in that I had been caught off guard, unable to react in time.

"Do you truly wish to persist in this futile battle?" he taunted, a cocky sneer curling his lips as he tilted his head, looking down upon me.

'Bell,' I inquired, my voice laced with urgency, 'What are our odds of victory?'

After a brief pause, my loyal wind spirit responded, 'Alone, our chances are close to zero percent. With Rachel's assistance, it increases to twenty percent.'

The man seemed to almost read my thoughts as he spoke, "I don't relish fighting when the odds are stacked against me. However, should you leave me no choice, I won't hesitate to defend myself. I refuse to be a mere casualty of your futile attempts. So, make your choice: continue to futilely chase after me while Telmore Forest crumbles, or allow me to depart unimpeded?"

My fist clenched tightly, the weight of dread and powerlessness bearing down on me once again. The knowledge that I was too weak, too inadequate to protect my beloved mentor from death, hung heavily in my heart. I yearned to confront Gary, to demand answers for the lack of action surrounding the tragic event. Yet, even in this moment, I found myself powerless to fight back against the very enemy I longed to vanquish.

In the midst of my turmoil, a mellifluous voice whispered gently in my ear, jolting me back to the present.

"I shall do my duty and take care of Telmore forest, my love," Rachel whispered soothingly using the power of her spirit, "So deal with the one who stands before you with everything you have."

Lifting my gaze, my gray eyes locked onto the figure before me, the one known as Legacy. Determination flared within me, overshadowing the sense of helplessness that had plagued me moments ago.

"I choose," I declared, my voice laced with conviction, "to end you here, Legacy."

His once arrogant expression twisted into a mixture of disapproval and disappointment, his disappointment a clear indication of the high expectations he had held for us Paladins.

"I had expected more from you," he sighed, shaking his head in resignation. Raising his finger towards me, he continued with a somber tone, "Well then, perish."

|Kathyln|

Encased within a suffocating cocoon of earth, I found myself immersed in a realm of complete darkness. As the only one to have ventured this far, I diligently applied the ice magic that Gary had imparted to me, skillfully concealing my mana signature while keenly observing and absorbing every detail of my surroundings.

The synchronized march of the soldiers reverberated through the confined space, their deliberate footfalls resonating against the tunnel walls. They passed me by in such close proximity that I could discern the hushed whispers exchanged between them.

"When do you reckon we'll return home?" a voice murmured.

"Already missing your family?" a husky voice taunted. "Focus on achieving something in this war. Your kin will be grateful if you can finally uplift them from that meager shack you call home."

"Enough, you two," a gruff voice hissed. "If you continue, the entire team will be assigned night watch duty."

I found myself captivated by their conversation, their manner of speaking strikingly reminiscent of our own. Yet, certain terms such as 'blood' and 'Great Vritra' left me pondering their meaning, piecing together clues from the context in which they were used. It intrigued me how two distinct continents, virtually isolated from each other, could exhibit such uncanny linguistic similarities.

Assured that the soldiers had all passed and no further intruders approached, I cautiously created a minuscule aperture to survey our surroundings.

'So, the dwarves succumbed to their own greed,' I thought, narrowing my eyes in quiet contemplation.

Suddenly, a figure draped in obsidian emerged from the teleportation gate.

Unlike the menacing, beast-like horns I had observed on previous Vritras, this individual possessed a pair of elegant spikes that arched gracefully from above its temples, curving towards the crown of its head. They exuded an aura of prestige and regality, akin to a delicate tiara gracing its brow. Unlike the murky blackness of the other horns, these obsidian appendages shimmered like precious gemstones, in stark contrast to the figure's lustrous, pearl-colored mane cascading past its slender shoulders.

This Vritra emanated an undeniable strength, surpassing my own current capabilities.

In a fleeting moment, our eyes met, and to my astonishment, the Scythe-wielder bestowed upon me a chilling smile. Goosebumps prickled across my flesh, compelling me to swiftly retreat, fearing that they might search for me.

Yet, to my relief, no pursuit ensued. I resolved to contemplate this encounter later, redirecting my focus towards conveying this crucial information to Gary.

'I can only hope that Gary refrains from rash actions,' I mused internally, my steps leading me back to rejoin my division.

|Vicht|

As I overlooked the continent of Dicathen using the crystal ball, a whisper escaped my lips, "Gary Whiteborn, what course of action will you take now? With your forces beset from two fronts, how shall you navigate this daunting challenge?"

Yet, deep within, I harbored no true concern for Gary and Dicathen, for I was well aware of his capabilities from his past lives.

He had been the guiding force that led humanity to triumphant victory against the demons, defying all odds with a seemingly insurmountable power. His strategic brilliance and cunning had been instrumental in turning the tide of a seemingly hopeless battle.

"When will it be my turn, mother?" Alexis inquired, his features subtly contorted with a tinge of frustration.

"Your involvement in the war is not yet warranted, and you understand the reasons, Alexis," I replied, my voice carrying a tone of reassurance. "However, I do have a task for you. Seek out Mordain; we anticipate deserters from Kezess Indrath to join our ranks soon."

"In this grand tapestry of destiny," I declared, my voice resonating with unwavering certainty, "there exists a chosen one, a figure destined to confront and defeat the two serpents: Agrona Vritra and Jezebeth. This harbinger of victory, this slayer of darkness, is none other than Gary. His path is predetermined, his purpose etched in the annals of fate, for I, the architect of this grand design, have orchestrated it flawlessly to secure Dicathen's ultimate triumph."