The field was no longer a battlefield.
It was a graveyard.
A silent, steaming sea of blood, ash, and smoldering ruin.
Kieran walked through it as if through a dream.
Each step he took burned the ground to glass.
Each breath he exhaled sent ripples of red-gold light across the corpses of the creatures that dared to approach him.
They came in endless waves —
howling, snarling, driven by the dark will of the summoner's curse —
and they fell like dust, burned out of existence before they even touched him.
There was no sound except the crackle of flame that followed his every movement.
The god of war did not rage.
He did not roar.
He simply was — destruction given form, wrath given purpose.
Behind the Blood Ward, William and the others could only watch.
The red barrier shimmered like a curtain of molten glass, cutting them off from the chaos outside.
They could see him, but not reach him.
"William!" Magnus slammed his hand against the ward. "He's burning himself alive out there!"
William's face was ashen. "No. He's keeping us alive. That's why the ward exists — to cage him, not them."
Alexander stood silent, eyes wide in awe and horror.
"That's not the Supreme," he whispered. "That's the war god himself."
And still Kieran walked — slow, deliberate, unstoppable.
The last of the elders — the once-proud council who had demanded the guardian's death — knelt before him now, their power shattered, their arrogance gone.
"Mercy," one of them choked out, voice trembling. "Great Supreme, we— we did not know—"
Kieran didn't even look at him.
His blade — forged from living flame, its edge the color of old blood — cut through the elder's body as easily as a sigh.
No scream.
Just silence.
The body dissolved into ash before it hit the ground.
He didn't stop.
Not until he stood a few feet from the only two figures still standing amidst the ruin — Dew, and the Summoner at his side.
The summoner was shaking, eyes hollow, body half-consumed by the corruption that crawled under his skin.
Still, he reached for Dew like a dying man reaching for sunlight.
Kieran's steps slowed.
His face was calm — almost serene.
But his eyes burned with pity and something colder than rage.
"Your greed," he said quietly, "has turned love into rot."
He looked between Dew and the Summoner.
"Do you even remember his name?"
Dew's jaw clenched. "He is nothing. Just another offering to power."
The Summoner flinched — just barely — but Kieran saw it.
A tiny, trembling flicker of humanity left in a soul already promised to darkness.
Kieran's gaze softened, for a moment only.
"I pity him," he murmured. "He gave you his devotion for centuries, hoping one day you might see him — not as a weapon, but as a man."
He tilted his head slightly. "But you never did, did you, Dew?"
Dew's face twisted. "Don't you dare lecture me about devotion, Kieran. You, who doomed the world for love?"
He took a step forward, laughter sharp and broken. "You're no god. You're a curse that pretends to bleed for others. You talk of pity, but all you ever bring is ruin."
Kieran's voice was low, like distant thunder.
"You talk about ruin, yet you are the one who summoned Mara."
A pause.
Then Kieran's tone sharpened.
"You wanted the Guardian's blood to give Mara a body — didn't you?"
Dew's smirk returned, brittle and wild. "I don't need the Guardian anymore."
His hand lifted — dark energy spiraling around his wrist like smoke made from shadow.
"I will become Mara myself."
The Summoner gasped, turning to him in horror. "My Lord— no! You promised—"
Dew didn't look at him.
He whispered a string of words in an ancient tongue, the air thickening, twisting with corruption.
The shadows under his feet stretched like living things, crawling up his body.
Kieran's eyes narrowed. "You can't contain that power. It will eat you alive."
"Then let it!" Dew's voice broke — half rage, half madness. "If this world will not bow to me, it will burn with me!"
He reached for the Summoner — not in affection, but in greed — and plunged his hand through the man's chest.
The summoner didn't scream.
He only looked up at Dew, a final flicker of heartbreak in his eyes.
"...I would have followed you anywhere," he whispered, voice fading.
Then the body collapsed into black dust, absorbed into Dew's own shadow.
The air split open.
A roar — deep, ancient, and terrible — thundered from the sky.
The ground cracked.
The moon dimmed.
Kieran's eyes widened, realization sinking in.
"You fool..." he breathed. "You didn't summon Mara."
Dew looked up, his smile unholy. His body now twisted, black veins crawling up his face, horns of dark bone beginning to form.
"I am Mara."
The sky split apart.
The darkness that spilled out wasn't mere shadow — it was hunger made flesh.
Every creature that still lived screamed as their bodies tore apart, devoured by the expanding void that was once Dew.
Kieran drew his sword, the flaming sigil of the Blood Star blazing to life behind him.
Even he — the god of war — felt the world tremble beneath the thing Dew was becoming.
And yet, he stepped forward.
Alone.
Inside the ward, William shouted his name.
"KIERAN!"
But the god didn't turn.
He only whispered, eyes fixed on the rising darkness before him—
"Let it come."
And the war between gods began again.
---
The wind howled like it carried the dying breath of the world.
Trees bent, the sky fractured between flashes of crimson and shadow.
Somewhere far from the battlefield, in the high northern path, the wolves ran.
Their paws thundered against the frozen earth — a storm of fur, breath, and light.
Sky ran among them, his pulse matching the rhythm of their strides, but this time he wasn't the fastest one.
On either side of him, titans ran — wolves so massive their shoulders brushed the low clouds, their eyes burning with ancient moonlight.
At the center, Jacob, the Alpha of Alphas — an S-class war beast born from the oldest blood of the Moonlight line — led the pack.
His growl cut through the wind, commanding the rhythm of the run.
Behind them, Kazen and Juno carried Felix and PP on their backs, the witches gripping their fur tight, weaving protective sigils in the air as they moved.
Each breath they took came with the taste of ash.
Each heartbeat came with a pulse of terror.
They could all feel it now — the tremor under their feet, the sky burning and dimming in the same breath.
The awakening of Mara.
But to Sky, it wasn't the darkness that made his chest ache.
It was the heartbeat.
Just one.
Far away.
Steady.
Too steady.
It pulsed against his ribs like a thread tugging him toward the south — toward him.
The Supreme.
His Supreme.
He stumbled for half a second, nearly tripping as the image flashed through his mind — a silhouette of red light standing in ruin, his hand dripping fire and blood.
That heartbeat was calm, resolute, unyielding.
But beneath it, Sky felt something else —
acceptance.
Jacob slowed slightly, letting Sky catch his breath. The Alpha's glowing eyes flicked to him.
"The land trembles," Jacob rumbled, his voice deep and resonant even in wolf form. "The god of war walks again."
Sky swallowed hard. "He's... burning. I can feel it. He's not afraid."
He turned his head toward the south, wind tearing through his hair.
"He's ready to die."
PP tightened his grip on Kazen's fur, shouting over the roar of the wind.
"Don't say that, Sky! He's the Supreme — he doesn't die."
Felix, clinging to Juno, gave a grim laugh. "You don't understand. He'd choose it. For Sky, he'd burn the world again if it meant saving him."
Kazen growled low. "Then we need to reach them faster."
He pushed his pace, voice carrying command. "The Guardian's power is rising. If Mara awakens, we'll need every moonfire left to stop it."
Sky barely heard them.
He could feel the bond pulsing inside him now — wild, molten, desperate.
Every beat of Nani's heart echoed in his chest, every flare of his power searing Sky's veins.
He looked up — and for a brief moment, the clouds parted.
The moon bled red.
A shimmer of fire traced across the sky — like the reflection of a blade cutting through darkness.
Sky's whisper came out broken.
"Don't do this..."
Felix looked back at him, voice softer now. "Sky, he's fighting for you."
Sky's jaw tightened, eyes shining with restrained tears.
"I never wanted him to."
The wind screamed around them as they ran — wolves, witches, and the last Guardian under a dying moon —
and somewhere far behind them, in the heart of war, the heartbeat that bound them both began to falter.