Full Chapter – Blood Coin, Black Steel
Location: Eastern Forests beyond the ruins — dusk bleeds into night. A narrow pass winds through the cliffs. It's quiet. Too quiet. And then… everything burns.
A Whisper Before War
Max walked ahead, the path narrowing.
He felt it first — a pulse through the shadows. A stillness. The kind of silence that only came when something was waiting for blood.
"Stop," he said.
Too late.
A sigil flared across the ground — bright red, circular, ancient. One of Velthar's forbidden arts. Bloodforged.
From the cliffs above and the forest shadows, mercenaries dropped. Thirty, maybe more.
Each clad in dark armor, faces hidden, bearing the mark of the Crimson Sigil — a mercenary guild that only took kill contracts.
At their head stood a woman in jetred plate armor, her core flaring hot:
🔥 Peak Ember.
Her aura twisted the air, warping flame and light like a mirage.
"Orders are clear," she said. "Kill the royals. Maim the siblings."
The First Move – Max Unleashed
They moved first — two flankers darting for Seris and Rael.
But Max's shadows lashed like snakes — wrapping both attackers midair, slamming them into the cliff face with bonesnapping force.
He stepped forward, eyes glowing violetblack.
"You should've stayed in the shadows."
A wave of mercs rushed at him — six at once.
Max weaved between them like flowing ink — shifting into the shadows beneath their feet, striking from below, blade glinting with black fire.
He dismantled three in seconds.
But a fourth caught him across the ribs — leaving a burning wound.
He grinned.
"You'll bleed better than I do."
Tristan's Ice Heart Awakens
Tristan stepped in front of Seris and Rael as more enemies surged.
His right hand froze the ground — a smooth slide of ice coiling forward. With his left, he raised a blade of blueglass frost.
A volley of throwing knives came at Seris.
He slashed once — a wall of ice surged up, catching the knives and deflecting them into the trees.
Two assassins broke through the side, blades raised.
Tristan spun — one sweep, two cuts — and froze both midmotion, statues of ice, still reaching for Seris.
"Stay behind me," he said. "Or at least don't die before I finish looking cool."
"You're bleeding," she said.
He glanced down. A cut ran along his shoulder.
"Adds to the mystique."
Hadi Lights the Sky
Hadi stood still for once, palms raised.
The air crackled with raw pink energy.
"You want a war," she whispered. "You're about to get fireworks."
Three mercs charged.
She snapped both hands forward — and a sphere of condensed energy detonated, lifting them off the ground in a chaotic pulse.
She surfboarded the blast, flipping midair, and slammed down with a shockwave that flattened five more enemies.
Then the commander came.
Flame met flame.
The Peak Ember mercenary surged forward — faster than Hadi could blink.
They collided in a burst of energy so violent it shook the trees. Hadi's attack was knocked aside — barely.
The woman grinned beneath her helmet. "You're bright. But not hot enough."
"Then let me turn it up."
Tristan Steps In
The merc leader tried to finish Hadi with a spinning flame whip — but ice stopped her short.
Tristan stepped in, dualwielding frost blades now tinged with ashen fire.
"Sorry," he said. "Family rule: we only get beat up together."
She struck.
He blocked once — twice — then unleashed a shockburst of cold that froze her weapon for a blink.
Hadi slammed her fist into it — shattering it in a spray of embers.
But the commander moved too quickly.
She backhanded both of them with a coreburst — slamming them into the ground, wounded but conscious.
"Two down," she muttered. "One left."
Max Faces the Commander
She turned toward Max.
He stood in the clearing, breathing hard, cloak torn, blood on his jaw.
Shadows flickered behind him, licking his arms, forming wings of black flame.
"You'll regret coming here," he said.
"Let's test that."
She charged.
So did he.
Let the storm continue.