The Scarlet Raven rose from the cratered earth, his body crackling with barely contained rage.
A twisted, maniacal laughter poured from his throat like a broken hymn—low at first, then rising in volume until it echoed through the battle-scarred fields like the cry of a mad god.
His crimson cloak billowed in the wind, and the fire that encased his arms flared higher, like a beast reawakened. He had truly unraveled—whatever humanity once resided within him was now long devoured.
Josh Aratat stood tall, motionless, as though sculpted from marble and flame. His kingly staff rested in his grip like a sceptre forged from the bones of kings. His body, now flawless, gave no hint of the brutal battering he had suffered mere moments ago. The wounds, the blood, the pain—gone. Replaced by an aura of authority so intense it seemed the very air bent around him in reverence.
If you had seen Josh Aratat lying broken moments ago, and beheld him now, you would have thought him reborn.
The Scarlet Raven snarled, "I don't know what trick you pulled, but I'm certain of one thing—whatever power you just used, it won't save you again." His voice trembled with fury. "This time, I'll destroy you to such extent that even the gods will forget your name!"
And with that, he surged forward—a blur of red and shadow, flames igniting the ground beneath his feet.
Josh Aratat didn't move. His gaze remained calm, his eyes glowing faintly beneath the cracked mask. Just as he shifted slightly, ready to meet the charge—
WHOOSH.
A sharp gust of wind tore across the field, followed by the sound of wings—massive, deliberate, and powerful. The rhythm of the air itself changed. All eyes turned upward.
High above, slicing through the clouds like a divine omen, came a giant eagle.
It was enormous—wings vast enough to blot out the sun for a heartbeat. Black feathers shimmered with streaks of gold, and its talons glinted like sculpted spears forged by gods. Intelligence radiated from its eyes—eyes that had seen centuries pass. It descended swiftly, and when it landed, the earth groaned beneath its weight. Dust exploded outward in waves. Even Uriel Commes froze mid-charge, momentarily stunned.
Then came the transformation.
The eagle's talons rippled into legs, strong and sure. Wings folded and twisted into arms, sheathed in deep violet robes. The majestic avian head morphed—bones cracking, feathers retracting—until it became human. A cascade of silver coloured-free flowing hair, flowed behind a regal female face, sharp and commanding.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
The generals took a cautious step back. Conrad Stan's hand hovered near the handle of his glaive. Lola's eyes widened in disbelief.
And from Uriel Commes himself, a single name escaped his lips, drenched in awe and ancient dread:
"...Archmage Amber Nois."
The words hung in the air like thunderclouds before a storm.
She smiled, the kind of smile only a battle-hardened immortal could wear—calm, knowing, almost playful. She stepped forward, and the ground crackled beneath her bare feet. Her presence alone was enough to push the wind away. Her golden eyes shimmered with an intelligent glint.
Josh tilted his head slightly, acknowledging her arrival, but said nothing. His silence was powerful—deference, trust, and readiness all in one.
Uriel's hands clenched, veins pulsing with disbelief. "You… you were supposed to be dead! The world swore you vanished into myth—how are you standing here?"
Amber's reply was as light as a feather, yet every syllable carried the weight of ancient power. Her voice, honeyed and melodious, laced with dangerous elegance, sliced through the tension like a finely honed blade. "And yet, here I am… looking fresher than you, might I add," she said with a faint smirk that infuriated Uriel further.
She turned toward Josh, her gaze softening just slightly. "I'm impressed, truly. To stand against this brute for so long… Sorry for what you've endured." Then, with a flick of her cloak, her tone sharpened again. "It's been a century and a half since I last made a proper entrance. And the last time, I locked up this pigheaded relic myself."
Her eyes locked with Uriel's, glowing with ancient authority. He stood there, tense, chest rising with shallow, heated breaths. His defiance hadn't wavered—but there was a flicker, the tiniest flicker, of doubt behind the fire in his eyes.
This time, he knew, would not be like the last.
Miko whispered from the back, "That's Amber Nois... the Archmage who halted the Oradonian Era Cataclysm..."
"She's real?" Eliphaz gasped.
"She's a flipping legend!" Adino added, nearly losing his balance in excitement.
The Scarlet Raven's face twisted with rage and something deeper—fear.
Amber raised her hand gently. "Let's finish what we started, Raven."
The winds around her began to churn as the temperature dropped suddenly. The land itself seemed to prepare for war.
And just like that, everything changed. The battle had become more than survival—it had become a legend in the making.
"I've seen it all now," muttered Captain Demos of the South Gate, his voice a mixture of awe and anxiety. "The Black Dragon… and the great Archmage herself—Amber Nois. And let's not forget that demon in feathers, the Scarlet Raven." He clicked his tongue, gripping the hilt of his blade though he knew it wouldn't be needed—nor would it help. "If I live through today, my children will hear this tale every night till they grow old."
A gust of wind swept through the battlefield, carrying with it the eerie sound of laughter. Uriel Commes—no, the Scarlet Raven—threw his head back and clapped his hands slowly, mockingly. The sound echoed like the tolling of a funeral bell.
"So it's true," he said with a crooked grin. "Last time, you locked me away like a beast in chains. You were powerful back then—truly formidable." His tone darkened, madness curling around every word. "But don't make the mistake of expecting the same Scarlet Raven you faced before."
He took a single, deliberate step forward.
"This version… is crazier."
Another step.
"Scarier."
A third, and now he stood within arm's reach of Amber Nois, eyes blazing with fury and unstable power.
"And more powerful."
He locked eyes with her, expecting to see fear, or at least caution. Instead, what he saw made him falter—a calm, infuriating smile that stretched across her lips. Not mocking. Not surprised. But amused. Like a lion, elegant and regal, staring at a rat who believed it ruled the savannah.
Uriel's confidence wavered for the first time. He couldn't place it, but something in Amber's gaze whispered a silent warning:
You've made this mistake before.