The moment we arrived, the air burned with the scent of charred flesh and blood. The battlefield was a wasteland of toppled structures and scorched earth, littered with the remains of battle. Shadows moved in the flickering light—werewolves, their hulking forms snarling as they clashed against an army of warriors. But it was the sight of our unexpected allies that sent a shiver through me.

  Among them were creatures straight out of myth. Humanoids wreathed in flames, their bodies shifting like molten rock—Vulcans, I realized. Beside them, armored elves moved in perfect sync, their swords flashing as they weaved through enemy ranks. And among them—talking animals, beasts of war covered in enchanted plate—tigers, wolves, and bears, and many others—that snarled and struck with brutal efficiency, their massive claws and fangs gleaming as they tore through the invading werewolves. The Terrans, I assumed.

  I barely had time to register it all before we were pulled into the fight.

  Viktor moved first, a blur of motion as he darted between enemy lines, striking with bone-shattering speed. His movements were almost too fast to follow—one second he was next to me, the next he was slamming into a werewolf mid-lunge, sending it crashing to the ground.

  Hyacinth flicked her wrist, summoning silver daggers and her light bombs in mid-air. Cassandra quickly sent Hyacinth’s conjured silver daggers flying with a flick of hands, each striking true. With a thought, she sent them spinning, each one finding its mark in a werewolf’s exposed joints. They howled in agony as she danced backward, avoiding their counterattacks with unnatural grace.

  Gabrielle and Zeke fought side by side—fire and water clashing against the enemy. Zeke’s flames curled around his arms before erupting into roaring infernos, forcing the enemy back. Gabrielle raised her hands, twisting water and launching it toward the enemies, knocking them back. But the werewolves kept coming.

  Pierre had shifted, his rhino form charging straight through a pack of them, sending bodies flying.

  For a moment, it seemed like we were actually making a difference.

  Then Marduk turned his gaze on us.

  The air thickened, pressing down like an unseen weight. The battlefield shifted—warriors faltered, flames dimmed. A chill spread through the air despite the fires raging around us. The battlefield stilled, as if the very world was holding its breath. Then, without warning, an invisible force slammed into us.

  I was thrown back, the wind ripped from my lungs. Viktor, mid-sprint, was caught mid-air and flung like a ragdoll into a pile of rubble. Zeke collapsed to his knees, a strangled gasp escaping him as his own flames extinguished against the suffocating pressure.

  Marduk stood at the heart of it all, his cloak billowing unnaturally, shadows curling around him like living things. Shadows curled around his feet, stretching out like claws. His eyes—glowing pools of darkness—locked onto us with something between amusement and disdain. His magic wasn’t just powerful—it was crushing.

  Amethyst, standing far behind, stretched out her hands. A golden glow surrounded Zeke and Viktor, and their injuries began to mend—but she couldn’t stop the overwhelming force pressing down on us.

  “You’re persistent,” he mused, his voice like ice. “And yet, you are nothing more than insects before me.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the world turned upside down.

  The ground cracked open, shadows pouring out like liquid, taking the shape of spectral beasts with glowing red eyes. They lunged at us, incorporeal yet striking with deadly precision.

  Zeke barely managed to throw up a wall of fire, but the shadows twisted around it like they were alive, slipping through the cracks and slamming into him. He let out a choked cry as he was thrown backward.

  Hyacinth’s daggers shattered mid-air before they could even touch Marduk. Gabrielle’s water froze solid in an instant, falling uselessly to the ground. Cassandra gritted her teeth, stepping forward—only to be stopped as an unseen force wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground.

  Panic clawed up my throat.

  This wasn’t a battle.

  This was slaughter.

  And then—Marik moved.

  He raised his staff, and the very air around him shifted. The oppressive magic pressing down on us shattered like glass. A pulse of raw energy radiated outward, forcing Marduk’s magic to recoil.

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  Marik’s aura flared, a radiant shield against the darkness. In that moment, he was an unstoppable force. His staff ignited with energy, a blinding light seeping from the ethereal patterns on his robe.

  I could feel it.

  This was magic beyond anything I had ever seen before.

  Marduk’s eyes narrowed. “You would dare—?”

  Marik didn’t let him finish.

  He raised his staff skyward, and suddenly, the battlefield was no longer dark.

  A massive magic circle formed above us, spinning with intricate, interwoven patterns. The air crackled as the circle expanded, its energy humming with an intensity that made the ground tremble. Then, Marik swung his staff downward, the magical orb hitting the ground.

  The circle exploded. A torrent of pure, unfiltered energy erupted from the heavens, cascading down in a massive pillar of light. It engulfed Marduk and his werewolves before they could react, their howls of agony lost in the roar of magic.

  I shielded my eyes as the battlefield was drowned in brilliance. When the light finally faded—

  They were gone.

  Banished.

  The battlefield was silent.

  We had won.

  But there was no victory in my chest—only exhaustion.

  ——

  We gathered back at the round table in the chamber, but no one spoke.

  The healers worked tirelessly, mending the wounded, but the weight of what had happened hung over us like a storm cloud.

  Those of us who had insisted on fighting stood together, yet we felt small.

  Viktor winced as he sat down, pressing a hand to his ribs. He hadn’t said a single remark since we returned. Zeke clenched his fists, his flames flickering weakly in his palms before snuffing out. Gabrielle sat with her arms wrapped around herself, staring at the floor.

  Pierre opened his mouth, probably to say something cocky, but nothing came.

  Kaldi’s tail lashed as he paced in front of us, his ears pinned back. “You nearly died.” His growl was low and tight with anger. “Do you understand that? You almost died because of your reckless bravado! Children! You are all so young and fragile! I nearly had a heart attack just watching you! This is why I told you to go to Andora first! But nooo, you had to be heroes!”

  No one argued.

  But then Ishthar spoke.

  “You were arrogant.” Her voice was cool, but the disappointment in her eyes cut deeper than any reprimand. “You didn’t just risk your own lives,” she continued, stepping forward. “You risked ours. Do you think we could have saved you if Marik hadn't been there? If he had hesitated for even a second?”

  I swallowed hard.

  “I fought alongside the previous generation of Mystic Knights—your predecessors,” Ishthar went on, her violet eyes sharp as blades.,” Ishthar went on, her violet eyes sharp as blades. “I’ve seen what happens to those who overestimate their strength. They don’t get second chances. They die.”

  Her words struck like blows, and I found myself unable to meet her gaze.

  Then, she turned her attention to Marik. “Say something.”

  Marik, who had been silent until now, exhaled slowly. He was leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t looking at us, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm in his mind.

  “You fought well,” he finally said.

  A few of us looked up at that.

  “But fighting well means nothing if you die before accomplishing anything.”

  The truth of it settled heavily in my chest.

  I exhaled, feeling the weight of our foolishness.

  “We get it,” Pierre muttered. “We weren’t ready.”

  Marik studied him, then nodded. “No, you weren’t.”

  His words stung more than any wound.

  Then Iago, who had remained quiet the whole time, finally spoke.

  He leaned against the table at the center of the chamber, tapping his fingers against the surface in thought. “You’re all lucky,” he said plainly. “This wasn’t a lesson that cost you your lives. You should be grateful for that.”

  His eyes flicked to each of us, calculating, assessing. “Marduk was testing you. You realize that, don’t you? He was playing with you. And if Marik hadn’t been there to end it—”

  He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  “Now,” Iago continued, his voice regaining its usual composed tone, “the question is, what do we do with this lesson? We don’t have the luxury of sulking.”

  A pause.

  Then Gabrielle whispered, “Then what now?”

  Marik leaned back, his expression unreadable.

  “Now?” he echoed.

  He met each of our gazes, the weight of his experience pressing down on us.

  “You do as you were told and head to the Woods of Silence.”