The atmosphere in the Black Thorns' manor was no longer lazy. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and sharpened steel. Captain Mara stood at the dining table, pinning a map of the kingdom's edge with a jagged dagger.
"Listen up," she growled. "The border village of Oakhaven is under a 'Level 4 Blight.' The scouts aren't coming back, and the communication crystals are dead. This isn't a training exercise anymore."
The Uneasy Alliance
Leo stood in the courtyard, adjusting his black mantle. He felt a presence behind him and turned to see a squad of Silver Eagles landing on their shimmering mana-platforms. At the front was Elara, her expression grimmer than usual.
"The King is sending both squads," Elara said as she stepped down. "Oakhaven isn't just a village, Leo. It sits atop a Ley Line. If the village falls, the barrier protecting the entire eastern border weakens."
Leo nodded, his hand instinctively touching the locket beneath his shirt. "My grandfather told me Oakhaven is where my parents lived for a while. This feels... intentional."
The Journey into Silence
As the two squads traveled toward the border, the scenery changed. The lush forests turned gray and brittle. The birds stopped singing. By the time they reached the outskirts of Oakhaven, a thick, purple-tinted fog had rolled in, clinging to the ground like a living thing.
"Stay sharp," Mara commanded, her shadow-threads weaving around her fingers. "Something is eating the mana in the air."
The village was eerily quiet. Doors swung open on rusted hinges. Half-eaten meals sat on tables. But there were no bodies.
The First Attack
"Look!" one of the Silver Eagles pointed toward the village square.
Hunched figures were emerging from the fog. At first, they looked like people, but as they stepped into the light, Leo's stomach turned. They were Ghouls of the Border—husks of former soldiers and villagers, their skin turned to a leathery gray, their eyes replaced by glowing violet embers.
"Necromancy," Elara whispered, summoning her Water Spirit. "This is Lyra's work."
The Ghouls didn't scream; they emitted a low-frequency hum that vibrated in the knights' skulls, making it hard to concentrate on their spells.
Leo's Struggle
"Leo, defensive perimeter!" Mara shouted.
Leo slammed his hands down. "Plant Magic: Bastion of Briars!"
Huge, thorny walls surged from the ground, surrounding the remaining villagers they found hiding in a cellar. But as the Ghouls touched the vines, the violet fire in their eyes transferred to the plants. The vines began to rot and wither instantly.
"It's not working!" Leo cried. "They're draining the life out of my magic!"
One of the Ghouls, a massive creature that looked like it had once been a captain of the guard, lunged at Leo. Its claws were dripping with a corrosive purple liquid. Leo scrambled back, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The Spark in the Fog
Deep inside him, the "oily heat" stirred. The Hellfire sensed the necrotic energy of the Ghouls and roared in response. Leo's vision began to tint red. He could hear the voice from his dreams: "Accept the burn."
"No," Leo gasped, clenching his fists. "Not yet. I have to control it."
He managed to summon a whip of hardened wood to knock the Ghoul back, but he was exhausted. The Ghouls were endless, crawling out of the fog in hundreds.
Just then, a high-pitched, melodic laugh echoed through the square. Standing on the roof of the village chapel was Lyra, the Left Hand of the Shadow Council.
"Look at the little prince, struggling with his weeds," she mocked, her violet skin shimmering in the moonlight. "Shall we see how long your friends last when the 'Song of the Grave' begins?"
She opened her mouth, and a wave of violet sound rippled out, shattering the Silver Eagles' shields and sending Elara to her knees.