Celeste and Nylon exchanged a glance.

  “Doesn’t this remind you of the corrupt beasts’ invasion?”

  “It feels like last year all over again,” Nylon replied, eyes narrowing.

  Dark magic began to spread from his hands, forming thick claws of condensed shadow—dense enough to shred steel.

  His beastman blood stirred. Crimson flooded his eyes.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Chelsea, straining to contain Trishula’s power, asked one final time.

  Nylon turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze. Silent. Unshaken.

  “Alright!”

  Chelsea aimed Trishula forward and released its stored energy.

  Three streams of magic shot over their heads—each refusing to merge with the others, repelling and spiraling violently until they slammed into the approaching salt cloud.

  BOOM

  A thunderous shockwave tore through the battlefield. For an instant, the sky turned gray. Wind howled, sending razor-sharp crystals of salt raining to the ground.

  Nylon and Celeste stepped forward, conjuring a shield of dark matter that enveloped the twins—and themselves—in protection.

  Without fully understanding what she’d done, Chelsea had delivered a devastating blow.

  But experience told them this wouldn’t be enough to make the enemy retreat.

  As the dust began to settle, Celeste moved ahead. She leapt over the black barrier and landed on all fours, crouched like a beast.

  Rising slowly, an intense pressure burst outward. The shadows beneath her feet extended, connecting with the shield behind her.

  From them, a massive, featureless wolf emerged—its glowing red eyes the only visible trait.

  HOWL

  The sound shattered the stillness. A bone-chilling warning.

  At last, the enemy showed itself.

  Salt.

  The monstrosity ahead was a crude echo of the life that had once thrived in the region.

  Celeste didn’t care.

  The shadow wolf surged forward like a wave. Its head cloaked her own, its body enveloping hers in an instant.

  Her hands became wide, slashing claws. Her legs thickened, grounded with bestial strength. Her whole frame grew—yet her mind stayed sharp. She was no wild animal.

  She advanced with deliberate, crushing steps, then broke into a sprint toward the enemy ranks.

  Less than a minute passed before she reached them—and then, pure carnage.

  Nylon glanced at Chelsea, who had collapsed to her knees.

  “I’ll go. I’ll put up a protective shell just in case.”

  “Take this time to recover.”

  He noticed the flames across their chests dimming, their breath labored—even Kelsea’s.

  “This power is strong,” he said, “but it needs to be nurtured.”

  “If it were easy to master, it wouldn’t have taken us a full year to get here.”

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  With a smile, he raised a hand above his head. A dome of dark magic descended over them, wrapping them in protective shadow.

  As the last embers vanished from their chests, Trishula—their mother’s trident—slowly faded back into the twins’ core.

  Exhausted, they lifted their heads toward Nylon.

  “You hit them hard,” he said.

  He gave Chelsea a wink and a thumbs-up. She smiled faintly.

  Turning, Nylon walked through the dark dome—untouched by its nature.

  Outside, salt sculptures shattered in every direction as Celeste rampaged through the enemy.

  She flung enemies into the air, letting them collide mid-flight. Her claws tore through their forms; her punches reduced them to mist.

  She’s holding her own... but she’s being overwhelmed.

  Nylon frowned.

  I’d better support her. Especially when we still know nothing about this enemy.

  As he took a step, darkness pooled beneath him. He sank into it like a stone into still water.

  What would they do...?

  Knees vanishing into the black, he kept thinking.

  Elliott would charge in with his blade—pure vanguard style.

  His chest disappeared into the shadows.

  Orion would support from behind... watching, defending, guiding...

  Only his head remained visible—eyes locked on Celeste’s back.

  I can do both.

  He vanished.

  And reappeared behind her.

  In one fluid strike, his claws shattered the neck of a salt beast mid-pounce.

  Then—gone again.

  Like a shark slipping beneath the surface, he vanished into the next shadow.

  His eyes scanned the field from every angle. He ruled the battlefield from beneath it.

  “Nylon?”

  Celeste glanced over her shoulder, surprised to find breathing space.

  “I thought you were staying with the twins?”

  His voice echoed from the shadows.

  “No need. They’re safe.”

  She trusted him and returned her focus to the front.

  “What are these things?” he asked from the left, only his tail flicking into view.

  She saw him split a stag-shaped creature in half, then disappear again.

  A

  A small smile tugged at her lips.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “They’re not fighting back. They just shatter.”

  With the back of her hand, she smashed a giant boar statue, confirming it.

  “I don’t think they’re alive.”

  Deeper in the salt ranks, Nylon scouted further.

  Then this’ll be easy.

  Rising from the shadows, arms outstretched, he floated above the enemy line.

  “Let’s see if you can resist this.”

  Dark magic spread like ink across the field, swallowing light and terrain alike.

  If not for the brilliant white sky, it would’ve looked like the abyss.

  Celeste watched the black tide part around her, avoiding her completely.

  Tendrils whipped out, dragging salt beasts into the dark pool. They struggled, but none escaped.

  When the last head slipped beneath the surface, Nylon clapped his hands together.

  CRACK

  Salt columns erupted across the battlefield. The ground split. Sculptures burst into vapor.

  And then, silence.

  The shadows returned to Nylon like waves retreating from shore.

  He landed, scanning the now-empty field.

  “Good.”

  Celeste returned to him, wide-eyed.

  “What was that? How did you destroy all of them?”

  Brushing salt from his arm, he answered:

  “That was Orion’s idea.”

  “But we should head back to the Remnants. Now that the enemy’s aware of us, we can’t afford to waste time.”

  Celeste nodded, her expression sharpening.

  “Right.”

  Back at the dome, Celeste dismissed the shadow barrier.

  “Feeling better?”

  “We’re fine,” Chelsea said. Both twins stood, brushing salt from their pants with a grimace.

  They stared at Nylon.

  “So what was that attack? You wiped out everything at once.”

  Nylon smiled.

  “Right. I owe you an explanation.”

  Facing them, he nodded.

  “It’s simple, actually. Orion taught me dark-element arts.”

  “But we hit a wall—his style didn’t fit mine.”

  The twins blinked, stunned.

  “Our styles were incompatible,” he explained. “So, instead of forcing it, he gave me something better.”

  He turned slightly, smiling.

  “He taught me the perfect technique for me.”

  “The fighting style of Noah—the previous Hero.”

  The twins froze.

  Celeste's eyes widened.

  “Noah’s...?”

  “Yeah. His style was reckless, dangerous—but deadly. It takes intense training just to survive using it.”

  He chuckled.

  “That guy was a monster.”

  Then his tone sobered.

  “Controlling the shadow world is a constant struggle. One mistake can cost an innocent life.”

  “You need total awareness—of the field, the enemy, and other complicated details.”

  “If not for Orion, I’d still be struggling with the basics.”

  He scratched the back of his head.

  “But enough about me.”

  His expression grew serious.

  “We need to move. Fast.”

  “We can’t stay here now that the enemy knows our position.”

  Chelsea narrowed her eyes.

  “Why would it know?”

  Celeste answered before Nylon could.

  “That horde we fought—it was likely connected to its creator.”

  “Destroying them probably alerted it.”

  The twins tensed, glancing at the salted ground.

  “That’s... not good.”

  “No,” Nylon agreed. “It’s not.”

  “That’s why we need shelter. Quickly. We’re in enemy territory now, and it knows we’re here.”

  He hesitated on the name, but said it anyway.

  “We can’t let Seraphina use this against us.”

  “We’ll hide, regroup, and find out where it is.”

  “Then we strike.”

  He extended a fist toward the twins.

  “We’re bringing it down, right?”

  The twins met his fist without hesitation.

  “Don’t forget about me,” Celeste added, stepping forward.

  “I wouldn’t accept anything less,” Nylon replied, smiling.

  The four of them—strangers in a strange world—shared a moment of unity.

  And without looking back, they departed. Finding shelter was their only priority.

  A few hours later, they succeeded. And for now, the silence held.