The courtyard became a battlefield the instant the Conclave descended. The first wave hit like collapsing night—shadows falling, twisting, slashing with tendrils of void-sharp edges. Bao Bao braced his feet against the stone, drawing the light around him into a tight shield as Naelith's Sunfire arced outward in a blazing ring.
Veylara stepped forward despite her injuries, weaving intricate sigils with trembling fingers. Her spell burst like a flare, scattering several of the hollow figures long enough for the three to advance.
Far above them, the rift widened.
A second wave formed.
And a third.
The Conclave wasn't here for a skirmish.
They were here for a capture.
Bao Bao felt the intention behind every strike—not to kill him, but to pull him into that rift where light could not follow.
Naelith sensed it too. "Stay close to me," she said, flames tightening around her arms like coiling serpents.
"I need room to move," Bao answered, blocking a sweep of shadow with a burst of golden force.
"You'll get pulled apart if you stray too far," Veylara warned.
Before he could respond, the palace horns cut through the chaos—a deep reverberating note that vibrated every stone.
Reinforcements.
The roar of dozens of boots thundered across the courtyard as the Gold Army surged through the inner gates. They moved in flawless formation, armor gleaming, weapons infused with the Sun King's resonance. Behind them came the Silver Army, Kaelis Stonehide at the front, his powerful frame wrapped in silver-etched plate that shone like hammered moonlight.
"Hold the courtyard!" Kaelis bellowed. "Protect the monarchs!"
The Bronze Army tore in from the western passage, Torren Wyemfall vaulting over fallen debris with terrifying speed. Bronze-forged spears slammed downward, pinning shadow-forms long enough for the Gold to burn them and the Silver to break their cores.
Bao Bao felt the flood of relief and guilt at once.
They had armies—many. Each with a General capable of leading entire fronts.
And yet the Conclave came for one man.
"Majesty!" Kaelis called, cutting down a hollow figure and sending its shell scattering like ash. "These things aren't breaking—they're reforming!"
"They're tied to the rift!" Veylara shouted back. "As long as it's open, they're endless!"
Torren slammed his spear into a Conclave soldier and shouted, "Then tell us how to shut it!"
Bao Bao didn't know.
But something inside him did.
The light in his chest pulsed, pulling his gaze toward the tear in the sky. It wasn't just a portal. It was a beacon—calling to him like a hook lodged in his ribs.
The Conclave swept toward him again.
Naelith unleashed a sharp burst of Sunfire, her arm around Bao Bao's waist as she pulled him back. "Don't you dare drift into it," she hissed.
"I'm not trying to," he said. "It's trying to draw me."
A hollow spoke directly this time, stretching its cracked face toward him.
"You are the lost shard. The source must reclaim its fragment."
Bao Bao didn't understand the words—but the light inside him flared violently, rejecting them.
The Conclave shrieked.
Every soldier—Gold, Silver, and Bronze—paused for a heartbeat as the battlefield was drowned in a single wave of brilliant white.
Naelith staggered.
Veylara shielded her eyes.
Kaelis and Torren froze mid-charge.
The Conclave convulsed and reeled back from Bao Bao as if the light itself burned them.
When the glow faded, Bao Bao stood breathing hard, eyes blazing with a brightness no human could hold.
Naelith stared at him. "Bao… your power—it's evolving again."
Veylara stepped closer, her voice trembling. "It's not just the Sunfire. This is something older. Something the Conclave fears."
Shadow-figures regrouped at the edges of the courtyard, preparing for another surge. But the light in Bao Bao's body had left a mark on them—fear, hesitation, something like memory.
"Stay back," Kaelis warned the Conclave soldiers. "You'll face all of us before you touch him."
But they weren't looking at the armies anymore.
Only at Bao Bao.
Then, in one sudden synchronized motion, they pointed toward him and spoke in a single voice:
"The Lightwalker must return."
Every soldier, every general, Naelith and Veylara included, tensed.
The Conclave charged as one.
Bao Bao stepped forward alone.
His light flared again.
And the battlefield exploded into chaos.
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If you want, I can continue into Chapter 33, focusing on the conclusion of the battle, Bao Bao's evolving power, or the political fallout once the Conclave retreats.