From the rift torn open by Astel, several meteors fell, scattering in every direction across the Lands Between.
Lucian realized at once: those might be the young forms of the Astel.
As a race of the stars, the Astel underwent several stages of metamorphosis in their lifetime. In their earliest state, they were called Fallingstar Beasts, then matured into Full-Grown
Fallingstar Beast. Upon reaching that stage, they would undergo a transformation—no longer beasts in form, they would sprout wings and take on an appearance closer to the fully-grown Astel.
This was the "hanging chrysalis" stage; their movement weak, their means of attack diminished, even weaker than the ferocity they displayed in their youth. But the purpose of this weakness was singular—so that they could ascend into adulthood.
Once they became true Astel, the power they wielded would eclipse the beast form entirely. As a race of the stars, the strength of an adult Astel was monstrous. Gravity sorcery, searing lasers, instantaneous teleportation—methods beyond counting.
It was an Astel, after all, that had once annihilated the glorious Eternal City, summoning meteors from the void to smash it into ruin. Perhaps the mightiest heroes had survived that destruction, but without their people, what dynasty could remain? And so the radiant Nokron Dynasty was extinguished, leaving behind only scattered tribes of Nox and Nightfolk, migrating to various corners of the Lands Between.
High above, the Astel waited until the meteors carrying their young had fallen to the ground, then wriggled free of the rift.
Its front half resembled a dragonfly, sprouting two pairs of thin, translucent wings that shimmered with dreamlike colors. When it fully emerged from the void, stretching its vast body against the backdrop of the starry sea, its form became clear.
Behind it trailed a long segmented tail, like a string of celestial orbs, each glowing as if it were a star in the night sky. At its tip protruded a vicious stinger bristling with spikes. Those orbs varied in size and color: some were dark and black, others shone a dazzling blue, still others radiated deep violet like gravity spheres. A few even bore faint golden rings, like miniature planets.
But most striking of all were two or three orbs that gleamed with a gentle amber light. Those glowing amber 'stars' were the reason they could be so clearly distinguished in the night sky.
The warriors gathered on the Wailing Dunes had never seen such creatures before. A chorus of shock and murmuring broke out.
Blaidd craned his head back, staring at the strange forms. A chill ran down his spine without reason. When his gaze met the hollow skull-face and the eye buried within, his fur bristled in instinctive alarm. Every fiber of his being screamed that these creatures were terrifying.
Even when fighting General Radahn—no matter how overwhelming the general's might, he had never felt such dread. Because no matter what, Radahn was still a being like himself. But these things in the sky… they were different. Were they truly even alive?
The thought wormed unbidden into his mind.
Jerren and Freya, at least, were not wholly ignorant of the star-born races. According to General Radahn, countless kinds of beings dwelled among the stars. The Alabaster Lord and Onyx Lord were rare examples of star-folk who could be communicated with.
But most races could not be reached at all—whether because they were too alien, or because no one had yet discovered the method. And the creatures they now beheld… they did not look like ones with whom dialogue would ever be possible.
All eyes turned skyward to study the uncanny intruders. Only Alexander, hindered by his narrow field of view, could not see. He fidgeted in frustration until, at last, he flopped flat on his back upon the sand dune. Only then could he look straight upward, and finally caught sight of the Astel drifting among the stars.
"Eh? Oi? What in the blazes is that?!"
"Never seen such a thing in all my life. And it looks… strong."
Lucian spoke up to explain, "They are Astel."
"Astel?"
"A race of the stars. Their power is… terrifying."
His brows furrowed as he watched the alien things wheel in the sky. Their appearance was ill-timed. And more troubling—he had no idea what they intended to do.
They flew impossibly high, far higher even than where Radahn had carried him during their battle. Which meant, for the moment, utterly beyond reach.
After a short while, the first Astel veered off in a direction and vanished into the night. The next two, however, seemed to take notice of the gathering below.
A surge of violet gravity light engulfed them, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished from the heavens. In the next instant, they reappeared upon the sands directly before the company.
Everyone jolted in shock, weapons raised in alarm.
Lucian drew the Starscourge Greatsword and stood ready. The Dragon Slayer Swordspear had already been ruined, awaiting repair or reforging. The Sword of Night and Flame, while powerful, was far too small to serve against creatures of such massive scale.
The Starscourge Greatsword, on the other hand, not only possessed gravity, but could wound star-born beings like the Astel more grievously than other weapons. The Ruins Greatsword was an option as well, but not nearly as strong as the Starscourge Greatsword he had honed to +9.
Yet strangely, the two Astel did not attack. Instead, they circled the dune where the company stood, wings buzzing as they floated one behind the other, as though observing.
Their mouthparts scraped and clicked, emitting a rasping chitter. Was it communication?
Lucian found it deeply strange. Had they lost contact with the Greater Will, now acting upon their own instincts? Or perhaps… could the Astel be communicated with directly, as though they were normal living beings?
He studied their every movement in silence.
But the others could not remain so calm. At such close range, the warriors felt cold sweat prickling down their backs. That bleached skull-face staring upon them was simply too unnerving.
Even Bernahl and the Old Knight—strong as they were, could feel the crushing pressure of the Astel, though earlier it had been from a great distance. Now, so close, the long-forgotten feeling of fear returned to them.
Too strong—easily the equal of a demigod.
Dane wondered grimly how long it would take to punch a creature like this to death with his bare hands. Leda, meanwhile, after watching the Astel for a while, quietly glanced at Lucian. She was gauging his expression, his stance.
The being that had descended from the night sky looked troublesome enough already. Though it remained passive for now, there was no telling when it might lash out.
The Stormlord, Lucian, was not in the best condition. If battle broke out, she was already prepared to rush in with Dane and Freya, fighting side by side. Better to forge a bond here—make it easier to approach him later.
But unexpectedly, the two Astel suddenly turned and flew away. Their destination, however, was none other than Radahn's corpse.
Lucian instantly understood their intent. Trapped beyond the Lands Between for so long, they were surely ravenous.
Without hesitation, he hefted the Starscourge Greatsword and charged after them. If he had inherited Radahn's blade, then he would at least safeguard the general's men.
The Redmane Knights would never stand idly by while Astel sought Radahn's body. They would fight.
As Lucian ran, both he and the Starscourge Greatsword swelled in size. The weapon carried its own magic that let it grow in proportion to his will—after all, Radahn himself had wielded it both in his youth and in his later, massive form.
But even then, running could not hope to outpace flying.
By the time he drew near, battle had already begun.
The Redmane soldiers roared defiantly, striving to drive the Astel away. But the creatures paid them no heed—their eyes fixed only on Radahn's corpse.
Knowing the fight was inevitable, the Redmanes unsheathed their weapons. The general's body must not be desecrated!
A horn sounded, and the clash began.
Arrows whistled through the night, aimed squarely at the skull's lone eye. The gravity-forged shafts forced it to turn its head, at last acknowledging the small creatures at its feet.
From its maw, after a brief charge, burst a violet laser. In a single instant, a hole was blasted through the Redmane's formation.
Knights with sword and shield rushed the beast, hacking at its joints—only to be impaled through the skull by its wicked stinger.
The second Astel blinked into the midst of the army in a flash of purple light. With a sweep of its claw, it summoned a radiant galaxy, followed by a thunderous explosion. Shields raised in desperation did little—men were flung into the air.
Only the Crucible Knight and Leonine Misbegotten endured the blast, surging forward to strike at the Astel's body.
By the time Lucian's Starscourge Greatsword came crashing down upon one of the creatures, the Redmane army had already suffered heavy losses. This was not an enemy that courage alone could overcome.
"You must fall back!"
"This battle is not for you!"
Seeing the Redmanes refuse retreat, loosing arrows at the other Astel instead, Lucian's anger rose. At this rate, countless men would die for nothing.
"You'll only be a burden if you stay! Get out of here!"
Jerren had arrived as well, shouting his command: "You should not die here! Take General Radahn's body back to Redmane Castle!"
Reluctantly, the Redmanes sheathed their weapons and began to carry their general's remains. The other warriors who had rushed to aid were likewise dismissed by Jerren. He would not see those who had come to honor the festival perish in vain.
Only the Crucible Knight and Leonine Misbegotten remained to hold off the second Astel.
Lucian swung the Starscourge Greatsword in a relentless storm of blows, cleaving chunks of pale bone from the creature before him. It shrieked, thrashing its long tail down toward him.
Lucian leapt aside, bringing his blade down hard on one of its secondary limbs. The sharp edge sliced clean through one six-fingered, skeletal hand, sending it clattering to the sand.
The Astel's single eye fixed on him. Its remaining five hands slammed against the ground. Black gravity rippled outward, crushing all within range. Caught unprepared, warriors collapsed, pinned by the immense pressure.
At once Lucian unleashed the Starscourge Greatsword's weapon art, Starcaller Cry, to weaken the dark surge, sparing the soldiers from being crushed into paste.
Strong though it was, the Astel was not beyond his ability to handle. Compared to Radahn, it was still lesser. Perhaps equal to one or two of the general's 'lives'.
But Lucian himself was in no great state. Though his wounds had healed, his strength and sorcery were drained, and every flask and draught exhausted.
If it were only him, he might have chanced a duel regardless. But with so many warriors nearby, continuing the fight would only lead to needless deaths.
The Astel had yet to unleash its true technique—the Meteorite of Astel that had once obliterated the Eternal City. If it did, nothing here would remain.
So Lucian resolved to call upon Wind Spirit Moon Shadow.