"What the hell is trying to trap us in here?!" Leon shouted, spinning as the shadows pressed closer to the shattered windows.
"Someone who doesn't want us interfering with what's happening in this city," Asuma replied coldly, heat flaring around his clenched fists.
Flames coiled around his arms, roaring to life.
"Fire Magic: Explosive Fists."
He drove his punch forward.
The glass and shadow barrier detonated in a thunderous blast, fire ripping through the darkness like a beast unleashed. The front of the antique shop disintegrated, clocks and broken gears flying into the street as the shadow-hands shrieked and evaporated into black smoke.
They burst outside—
—and were greeted by hell.
Talagra was no longer a city.
The streets were carpeted with bodies, many reduced to nothing more than charred silhouettes burned into stone. Shadow-born demons prowled openly now, clawed forms slithering through smoke and flame, tearing into anything that moved. The poison-filled air made breathing feel like swallowing knives.
"Those fucking demons!" Leon snarled, drawing his blades.
Amira froze mid-step, her gaze snapping toward the looming silhouette of Mount Tar.
"Do you feel that?" she said, voice tight. "That aura—"
"Yeah," Asuma answered grimly. "Something is happening at the garden."
"Then let's—"
He never finished.
A massive shadow brute erupted from the darkness, its arm crashing down where Leon's head had been a heartbeat earlier. Leon twisted aside instinctively, his fist snapping forward in a brutal counterpunch that tore straight through the demon's chest.
The creature shattered into smoke.
But it wasn't alone.
From alleyways, rooftops, and broken doorways, more shadow-born demons poured out, their numbers swelling by the second. They moved with feral coordination, converging on the trio like predators sensing blood.
"Looks like we're fighting our way through!" Asuma shouted, his blade igniting as he cleaved through one shadow and pivoted to block another.
Steel, flame, and lightning collided with darkness as they pushed forward inch by bloody inch, carving a path through the collapsing city. Each step upward toward Talagra's upper districts felt heavier than the last.
When they finally broke through the swarm, the sight ahead stole their breath.
City guards clashed desperately with the shadow demons, shields splintering under inhuman force. Among them fought the private forces of the Intelligence Department—silent, disciplined, cutting through darkness with practiced precision.
The city had become a battlefield.
Smoke choked the sky. Screams echoed between stone walls. And above it all, Mount Tar loomed—its presence pulsing with a sinister power that promised something far worse was still to come.
Talagra was no longer just under attack.
It was being claimed.
"It's sick," Amira muttered, her jaw clenched as she watched the chaos below. "They let the people in the slums die while they barricade themselves up here, protecting the rich."
Asuma didn't answer immediately.
She was right.
No matter the empire, no matter the banner flying above the walls, the poor were always reduced to numbers—acceptable losses written into silent ledgers. The thought burned worse than the poison in the air.
"We're not fixing the city," Asuma said grimly. "We're stopping what's causing this."
He broke into a sprint, weaving through the clashing tide of soldiers and shadow-beasts, eyes locked on the long staircase leading toward the sacred garden.
But at the foot of the stairs stood something that made them all slow.
A Shadowborn Knight.
Its towering form barely resembled a man anymore. Black tendrils leaked from cracks in its armor like living smoke, crawling across the stone beneath its feet. A massive greatsword rested in its grip—its blade slick with fresh blood, shadows dripping from the fuller like ink.
Around it lay the remains of city guards.
Some were cleaved clean in half, others crushed so brutally their armor had fused into their bodies. Whatever had tried to bar this creature's path had been erased without mercy.
"That thing..." Leon swallowed. "It's strong. Fourth star—at least."
"I'm already exhausted from the twin demons," Amira admitted quietly, tightening her grip on her spear.
Leon exhaled sharply. "So what's the plan?"
Asuma's eyes narrowed, calculating. "We can't sneak past it—it'll sense our aura. And distracting it would just get one of us killed."
A brief silence fell between them, filled with the screams of the dying and the roar of distant combat.
Leon sighed. "So our only option is fighting it."
"Yes," Asuma said. "All three of us together—we can kill it."
Lightning crackled around Amira's spear as she stepped forward without hesitation. "Then let's move."
The Shadowborn Knight's head tilted slightly, its attention snapping toward her the moment she crossed an invisible threshold.
"There she goes again," Leon muttered, moving to her side. Asuma took position on her other flank, fire flickering faintly around his blade.
They braced themselves—
—but the knight did not attack.
Instead, soft footsteps echoed down the stone staircase.
A woman descended calmly, as though the battlefield around her did not exist.
"Zargan," she said, her voice low and commanding. "Do not attack."
The Shadowborn Knight froze instantly, lowering its blade.
The woman reached up and pulled back her hood.
Curly black hair spilled free, framing a pale, almost corpse-like face. Black tattoos crawled across her skin—from her forehead, down her neck, disappearing beneath tattered clothing that looked more like rags than robes. Her eyes were completely black, voids that reflected nothing. She was barefoot, her soles stained with blood and ash.
She smiled faintly.