Eryndor was sent on a mission to retrieve the maiden mage who had been abducted by Agnes. She was last seen in the Forest of Fawl.
When Eryndor finally arrived, he immediately stayed alert. The forest was dark and filled with the sounds of unknown creatures lurking in the shadows. Suddenly, mutated animals began ambushing him from different directions.
But Eryndor was not overwhelmed. He was always ready for battle.
With swift and precise strikes, he cut down the creatures one by one, killing ten of the mutated beasts in a matter of moments.
Eryndor looked at the corpses scattered around him and frowned.
"This is definitely witchcraft," he muttered to himself.
There was no doubt in his mind that Agnes was behind it.
Without wasting another second, Eryndor tightened his grip on his weapon and began searching deeper through the Forest of Fawl, determined to find her.
After hours of searching and dispatching mutated animals along the way, Eryndor finally located the area where Agnes had taken Ariana.
He paused, scanning the surroundings, and immediately began planning how to retrieve her. Thoughts of disobeying the higher officials' orders crossed his mind—he considered killing Agnes outright.
But even as that idea lingered, another thought anchored him: if he could eliminate her and save Ariana in the process, then that would be the perfect solution. Determined, he moved cautiously, ready for whatever traps or dark magic awaited him.
Agnes was torturing Ariana, her hands glowing as she drained the young mage's magical energy. The pain on Ariana's face was unbearable, but before Agnes could finish, Eryndor stepped forward to confront her.
Instantly, Agnes retaliated, summoning wave after wave of mutated animals. Eryndor moved like a storm, cutting through them with ease, wiping out over a hundred creatures without breaking a sweat.
Determined to reach Agnes, Eryndor charged forward—but two of the last remaining Dark Lords appeared, flanking him. With a swift strike, they tossed him aside, sending him crashing to the ground.
Eryndor gritted his teeth. He knew defeating the Dark Lords alone would take time, but no matter the odds, he would stand and fight.
He lunged at the two Dark Lords, blades and magic clashing in a deadly dance, while Agnes continued absorbing Ariana's powers, her aura growing more monstrous with each passing second.
Suddenly, Agnes unleashed Ariana's stolen energy in a massive strike. Eryndor was hit squarely, flying across the battlefield. He landed hard, bloodied and battered, barely clinging to life—but still gripping his weapon, refusing to give in.
Eryndor locked in, his focus razor-sharp, as Agnes summoned five hundred mutated animals to fight alongside the two remaining Dark Lords.
She watched him with amusement, fully aware that neither Eryndor nor Ariana—now on the brink of death—were likely to survive this encounter. Yet she couldn't tear her eyes away as Eryndor slashed and tore through wave after wave of abominations, each strike precise, each movement deadly.
With a powerful leap, Eryndor landed behind the Dark Lords, slashing at both simultaneously. The Dark Lords countered ferociously, blocking and striking in a deadly dance of attacks.
The fight quickly became too much for the creatures alone, and Agnes decided to intervene herself. She rained a storm of magical arrows down on Eryndor, each projectile sharp as steel and burning with stolen magic.
Pierced and battered, Eryndor staggered, blood mixing with dirt and sweat, but he refused to fall. Every wound reminded him of why he had to fight. Every strike he took reminded him of what he needed to protect.
No matter the odds, no matter the pain—he remained standing. He had to. He needed to.
Eryndor knew this could be the end of him. Memories flashed through his mind, each one a reminder of everything he had fought for, everything he had yet to protect. He understood—this might be his last stand.
With every ounce of strength left, Eryndor tore through the mutated animals, dodging and parrying every strike the Dark Lords threw at him. Despite being badly beaten and bloodied, he finally slashed through both Dark Lords, their bodies collapsing in defeat.
Eryndor stood amidst the devastated battlefield, smoke and debris swirling around him, as he finally met Agnes's gaze. Her calm, almost playful eyes told him that she knew he could still challenge her in a one-on-one fight.
Then, without warning, she casually hurled Ariana toward him. Reflexively, Eryndor caught her at the perfect moment, heart pounding as he steadied her trembling form.
He stared at Agnes, suspicion was rising. He didn't understand her motives—and the way she smiled made him even more uneasy.
Agnes had anticipated that a large army would be sent to rescue Ariana and hunt her down. That was precisely why she kidnapped the strongest magic user of Perona—to lure her enemies into a trap and secure her advantage.
But her careful plan miscalculated one thing: Eryndor.
Thanks to his skill, strategy, and sheer determination, Eryndor cut down her Dark Lords, dismantling her defense and forcing her to confront him directly. The loss of her minions was a setback she hadn't foreseen, and for the first time, Agnes realized this battle might not go entirely in her favor.
Ariana was not actually important to her; she was just part of a plan to lure the armies of both cities. Agnes's true motivation was to tear down everything and become the strongest across the lands, but without the orb, she couldn't do it alone.
At that time, Sol managed to steal the orb because Agnes was in her healing phase, while Sol was desperate for power and very cunning.
That's also why Agnes didn't join Kharous Raine's invasion—she didn't want to become secondary or meaningless while Kharous received all the praise.
Agnes realized that Sol could become a powerful asset—the perfect ally to infiltrate the lands and serve her own plans.
Without hesitation, she cast a spell, summoning a hundred mutated animals, and began to fly away, disappearing into the distance.
Despite his injuries from the brutal battle, Eryndor fought relentlessly, cutting down every single one of the creatures with deadly precision.
Once the battlefield was cleared, he lifted Ariana into his arms and navigated through the forest, determined to bring her safely back to the city.
Eryndor called in the medical team to extract both him and Ariana from the Forest of Fawl. After three grueling hours, the team finally rescued them and transported them to the hospital.
The higher officials were already waiting, anxious for Eryndor to regain enough strength to report on the rescue mission.
Two hours later, Eryndor, still battered but resolute, recounted the events in detail. As the officials began formulating a plan to defeat the Witch, Eryndor noticed something strange—Ariana had fully recovered almost immediately, and it made him suspicious of what really happened during the mission.
Eryndor immediately turned to Ariana. "What do you remember from earlier?" he asked, his voice sharp with concern.
Ariana hesitated before replying, her voice trembling:
"I… I don't know. The Witch was whispering something in my ears before she kicked me out."
Eryndor's instincts screamed that something was off.
Even without realizing it, Ariana's eyes began to act strangely, flickering with a subtle, unnatural movement. Eryndor caught the glance and his heart sank—he immediately understood. This wasn't just a random event; it was a setup, and the Witch had left a trap lurking within Ariana.
The Witch seethed, using Ariana's eyes as her own vision. With a cruel smirk, she took full control of Ariana's body and darted far from Eryndor's reach.
"Capture her! Now!" Eryndor shouted to the soldiers, pushing himself to his feet despite still being battered and exhausted.
"Damn it," he muttered through gritted teeth, "not even a goddamn minute to rest before something else happens."
Under the Witch's control, Ariana ran straight toward Sol, who stood quietly, gazing at the moon. Her eyes glowed with unnatural light, and a portal shimmered into existence beside him. Before Sol could even react, Ariana kicked him into the portal, sending him directly to wherever the Witch was hiding.
Almost instantly, Ariana lost consciousness. The soldiers and Eryndor rushed to her side, finding her lying lifeless on the ground.
"Get her back to the hospital, fully guarded!" Eryndor ordered, his voice cold and urgent, as the men lifted her carefully, ensuring she would be safe from further manipulation.
Sol rose to his feet, weapon in hand, ready to strike—but something in Agnes's presence stopped him cold. She knew exactly how to manipulate the rage and chaos within him, fueled by the corrupted orb.
"Be my right-hand man," Agnes said, her voice calm but commanding, "and I'll give you full control over the power you already wield."
Sol froze, hearing exactly what he had longed for: complete mastery over the orb's power. Her words were irresistible.
"I can make you stronger than you've ever imagined," she continued, her eyes gleaming with cunning. "But first… you must kill Eryndor. Only then will the power be yours."
A twisted smile played across her lips. "Desperation for power makes you… fascinating. So, what do you say? Will you accept my offer?"
Sol's grip tightened on his weapon, his mind torn—but the promise of full control over the orb's power was too tempting to ignore.
Sol accepted the proposal without a second thought, ignoring the bitter truth: fulfilling it meant destroying the city that had welcomed him.
Agnes granted him access to the orb's full potential, teaching him to harness his rage and madness without losing control. The feeling was intoxicating—power coursing through him effortlessly, every strike and surge of magic perfectly aligned with his will.
A manic laugh escaped him as he realized what had just happened: he finally had complete control over the orb.
For now, Sol followed Agnes's orders, his mind buzzing with power and possibility, unaware—or unwilling to care—about the devastation he might soon unleash.
Three days later, Leo and his team finally arrived at the Land of Thaloun Grass, weary but determined.
Meanwhile, Eryndor had fully recovered, his body and mind sharper than ever.
The cities of Lucindor and Perona were on high alert, aware of the sudden rise of a newly empowered foe—Agnes—whose reign of terror had begun a week ago.
Across the Land of Luminous, villages trembled in fear, the memory of recent horrors still fresh in their minds.
Now, Agnes and Sol stood at full power, ready to impose their will. Agnes had only Sol as an ally, but even that single partnership was enough—Sol was the most formidable force she had at her side.
The duo appeared at the gates of Lucindor, their eyes sweeping over the beautiful city with chilling calm. The guards instantly sounded the alarm, holding their positions while calling for reinforcements from the higher officials.
The King ordered elite soldiers, led by Art Ryder, to prepare for battle. But for the confrontation that truly mattered, Eryndor stepped forward alone, facing the terrifying duo of Sol and Agnes.
Agnes unleashed her fury across the battlefield, targeting every soldier in sight, while Sol focused his attention on Eryndor.
Art Ryder, leading the elite soldiers, coordinated a precise attack on the witch, forcing her to respond. Her anger surged as she blasted a wave of dark magic toward them. Art's sword deflected the strike with a brilliant shimmer, only fueling her fury further.
Despite the overwhelming power of the witch, the soldiers pressed forward with everything they had, striking from all sides. One of them shouted to rally the troops:
"Art Ryder isn't just any elite soldier—he's second only to Eryndor in skill!"
Art's eyes burned with determination as he encouraged his men:
"Hold your ground! Fight back! She has taken enough lives already!"
The soldiers surged forward, each blow landing against the witch, their combined strength driving her back, if only slightly. The battlefield became a whirlwind of steel, magic, and unyielding resolve.
Art Ryder moved with flawless precision, each strike and parry a testament to his skill. Watching him, Agnes couldn't help but flash back to the memory of Eryndor tearing through her minions—a painful reminder of the power she had once underestimated.
Despite his mastery with the sword, Art still took hits from Agnes's attacks, each one forcing him to push through pain and exhaustion. Around him, the soldiers followed his orders without hesitation, relentlessly attacking her from all sides.
Some of the elite soldiers managed to overwhelm Agnes, their coordinated strikes leaving her struggling to cast even a single spell. Art shouted instructions, his voice cutting through the chaos:
"Don't stop! Keep swinging! Prevent her from casting anything!"
Under his command, the soldiers moved as one, a perfect unit of synchronized strikes and strategy. The battlefield itself seemed to bend to his leadership, making the fight far harder for Agnes than she had anticipated.
Agnes said "I've underestimated the willpower from all of you" while struggling to fight back. Art showed her that it only takes a unity to fight back against her, making her furious at him.
Flashback...
Before they launched their assault, Agnes leaned toward Sol, her voice cold and calculated.
If it weren't for that clever fool Eryndor, this would have been far easier," she confessed, her eyes glinting with dark amusement. "My plan was to use Ariana's body to poison the city's entire water supply… but he ruined everything."
The memory cut through Sol's focus, reminding him why Eryndor was such a threat, and why he had to end this fight decisively. The flashback vanished as quickly as it came, and Sol's eyes narrowed with renewed determination, charging at Eryndor with even greater force.
Sol and Eryndor finally locked eyes, the tension between them crackling like lightning.
"Greedy son of a bitch," Eryndor spat, his voice filled with rage.
Sol didn't respond. Without a word, he charged forward with blinding speed, his weapon aimed directly at Eryndor. The battle between these two formidable warriors had officially begun.
Eryndor parried every strike, matching Sol's movements with skill and precision. But there was a problem—Sol's power was overwhelming, while Eryndor had yet to fully recover his strength. Despite his tactics, brute force alone wasn't enough.
Yet Eryndor refused to lose. He outsmarted every powerful attack, predicting Sol's movements and dodging with cunning, even as Sol unleashed the full extent of his controlled orb power.
The fight was incredibly close, a blur of steel, magic, and strategy—but in terms of sheer strength, it was one-sided. Sol's mastery over his power made every strike heavier, every movement faster, and every attack more devastating. Eryndor was pushed to the limit, relying not on raw strength, but mind, skill, and timing to stay in the fight.
The battle raged at the city's doorstep, yet, by sheer fortune, the city itself remained largely unscathed.
Sol unleashed a devastating blast at Eryndor, sending him flying far from the main battlefield. Before Eryndor could recover, Sol followed up with relentless, overwhelming blasts, intent on finishing him once and for all.
Meanwhile, Agnes had been unable to cast a single spell. The soldiers, coordinated under Art Ryder's leadership, pressed their assault, landing critical strikes on the witch. Agnes, desperate, called for Sol's aid.
Sol appeared beside her, ostensibly to help, but then, without warning, he punched a gaping hole through her chest, leaving her weakened. Shock rippled across the battlefield.
The truth became clear: Sol had been manipulating Agnes all along. She had believed he was her loyal ally, yet his true motive was access to full control over the orb's power. Her own creations had turned against her—her final miscalculation.
"I couldn't believe my own plans could backfire so easily," she muttered, attempting to cast a spell to heal herself.
But suddenly, a shadow fell behind her.
Eryndor rose, sword in hand, bloodied and battered, yet his eyes burned with uncontainable rage. Agnes hadn't healed fully before Eryndor struck, slicing her relentlessly, piece by piece, with no mercy and no hesitation.
"You're nothing," Eryndor growled. "Your existence is just trash."
With the death of the witch, the cursed virus afflicting the people lifted instantly. Ariana was freed from Agnes's control, no longer a puppet.
The battlefield was silent but for the crackle of fire as the soldiers burned the remains of Agnes, cleansing the horrors she had wrought.
Eryndor lay on the battlefield, smiling wearily as the chaos finally subsided. Beside him, Sol casually rested, dust and ash clinging to his armor.
"I… I'm sorry for everything that happened," Sol said quietly.
Eryndor looked over at him, a small grin forming despite the exhaustion. "You helped end this. That counts for something."
For the first time in a long while, the two warriors shared a moment of peace amidst the devastation.
After the battle, the King of Lucindor held a grand ceremony to honor the heroes. Eryndor and Art Ryder were commended for their unmatched bravery, alongside the standing and fallen soldiers who had fought valiantly to protect the city.
Sol watched from the sidelines, a faint smile on his lips, knowing he didn't truly deserve the honor—his actions had been selfish, driven by power, not virtue.
Meanwhile, Eryndor stood tall, his reputation now unchallenged. He had officially earned the title of the strongest human alive.
The Witch of Fall had already fallen...