The sky above Arnvale split with red light.
Not lightning.
Not fire.
Not magic the town had ever seen.
A single beam of crimson mana carved downward, slamming into the cobblestone courtyard outside the guild with an impact that shook windows and rattled bones.
BOOOOOOM.
Dust erupted.
Debris rained down.
Villagers screamed and scattered.
Lyra flinched at the shockwave, instinctively covering Friezzar with her arms.
Arden grabbed a nearby table to stay upright.
Oren shouted orders from the hall.
"ALL HANDS — DEFENSIVE FORMATION! SHIELDS UP!"
But the attack wasn't aimed at the guild hall itself—
It was a message.
A warning.
Because standing at the center of the crater—
tall, sleek, obsidian-black body cut with searing red cracks—
was the Second Vessel.
Motionless.
Silent.
Watching.
Its single burning eye fixed on Friezzar's window.
Lyra's breath caught in her throat.
"Friezzar… it sees you."
Friezzar's glow trembled.
"…vessel… two."
Arden stepped forward, sword drawn.
"That thing's built like a tower. And it's not here for sightseeing."
Oren's voice echoed from below.
"ARROWS READY! MAGES — TARGET ITS CORE!"
Lyra turned to Friezzar.
"Stay here. Please."
He shook his head faintly.
"…Lyra… danger…"
"And you're hurt!" she snapped back.
Friezzar touched her hand weakly.
"…not… leave."
Her heart clenched.
"Friezzar—"
Before she could finish—
The Second Vessel moved.
Not fast.
Not slow.
But with precise, mechanical grace.
It took one step forward.
WHUMMMM.
A ripple of oppressive mana spread, heavy enough that several villagers collapsed to their knees from pressure alone.
The air felt thicker.
Harder to breathe.
Arden cursed.
"This isn't a monster… this is a siege weapon."
Oren yelled from the courtyard:
"ARCHERS — FIRE!"
A volley of arrows shot through the air—
The Second Vessel raised one arm.
The arrows disintegrated before reaching it.
Not deflected.
Not dodged.
Simply erased.
Lyra's stomach twisted.
"Oh gods…"
Arden's expression darkened.
"That's… not good."
Oren shouted:
"MAGES! CAST!"
Four mages released bursts of magic—
fire, ice, wind, lightning—
The Vessel stepped forward again.
WHUMMMM.
All four spells warped midair—
bent
twisted
and shattered into dust.
Lyra whispered in horror:
"It… nullified the magic…"
Arden's eyes narrowed.
"Not nullified. Absorbed."
Oren shouted orders, voice strained:
"PULL BACK! PULL BACK! DO NOT ENGAGE IN CLOSE COMBAT!"
But the creature was already analyzing the guild defenses.
It tilted its head—
and spoke for the first time.
Its voice was a monotone echo, layered like multiple voices speaking at once:
"VESSEL ONE.
RETURN."
Lyra froze.
Arden stiffened.
Even the guild members stopped shouting.
Friezzar whispered faintly:
"…no."
The Second Vessel's head shifted, scanning for him.
"VESSEL ONE: REFUSED COMMAND."
Oren yelled upward:
"It's talking! It's actually talking! What does that mean?!"
Arden muttered:
"It means trouble."
Lyra grabbed Friezzar's hand tightly.
"You don't have to respond."
Friezzar shook.
"…hear… call…"
"You can resist it," she urged. "Like before. I'm right here."
Friezzar leaned into her warmth.
His glow steadied—just slightly.
"…Lyra…"
She nodded.
"Yes. Stay with me."
The Vessel Attacks
Outside, Oren raised his shield.
"EVERYONE BEHIND ME! THAT THING IS CHARGING A—"
He didn't finish.
Because the Second Vessel lifted its arm again—
and the air screamed.
The mana pressure compressed into a tight spear of red light—
Arden recognized it instantly.
"Oh shit—LYRA, GET DOWN!"
He tackled both Lyra and Friezzar to the infirmary floor—
KRA-KA-THOOOOOM!
A beam of red mana blasted through the guild courtyard—
slicing stone, shattering walls, splitting the earth—
before slamming into the guild hall's front entrance.
The entire building shook violently.
Plaster rained from the ceiling.
Shelves toppled.
Lanterns shattered.
Lyra screamed as the floor heaved beneath them.
"FRIEZZAR!"
Friezzar instinctively wrapped his arms around her to shield her—
despite the cracks in his chest widening from the strain.
Arden rolled to his feet, coughing.
"Oren! REPORT!"
Oren's voice bellowed back through the dust:
"—EVERYONE'S ALIVE! FRONT HALL IS HALF GONE! WE NEED TO EVAC—"
The Vessel stepped into the destroyed entrance.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
It moved as if cutting through fog.
Its burning eye brightened.
"TARGET LOCATED."
Lyra's blood froze.
"…no…"
Arden grabbed his sword.
"Lyra! Move!"
Friezzar tried to stand—
His legs buckled.
Cracks split across his thigh.
Mana leaked.
His core flickered dangerously.
Lyra caught him.
"No—Friezzar, don't move! You'll break—!"
He looked up at her.
Glowing eyes full of fear—
but not for himself.
"…Lyra… danger…"
He forced his legs under him again—
shaking—
splintering—
breaking—
"Stop!" she cried. "Stop—please—!"
But he stood anyway.
Barely.
Defiantly.
Staring at the Vessel through the shattered debris.
The Second Vessel stared back.
"VESSEL ONE.
YOU ARE DAMAGED.
YOU REQUIRE RECLAMATION."
Friezzar's glow blazed.
His voice cracked with determination:
"…not… yours."
The Vessel tilted its head.
"ERROR.
VESSEL ONE IS MALFUNCTIONING."
Arden stepped in front of Friezzar, sword raised.
"You want him? You go through me."
Lyra moved beside him, hands glowing with weak healing light.
"I won't let you take him."
The Vessel processed this.
"HUMAN INTERFERENCE.
INSIGNIFICANT."
It raised its arm—
Red mana spiraled into a condensed sphere.
Arden's eyes widened.
"That's the same attack that shattered the dungeon—!"
Lyra swallowed hard.
"Friezzar… please… please don't—"
But Friezzar stepped forward—
placing himself between Lyra and the destructive beam.
Cracked.
Broken.
Barely standing.
But still—
He raised his hand.
Runes flickering.
Glow trembling.
Voice weak—
but unshakably clear:
"…Lyra… safe."
The Vessel fired.