Hera stood straight at the end of the long table, clutching the edge of her healer's robe. "I... I do not want to," she said quietly, shaking a little as she glanced at Carenia. "I do not need a companion."
Alferenzo's attention shifted to her, his gaze steady but cold behind the mask. "Are you disobeying my desire, Hera Rhea Sureva?" he said.
Hera let her shoulders slump slightly. "No... no, Sir," she whispered.
He turned his gaze towards Carenia. "And you? Do you have reservations about this arrangement?" His voice was patient, but there was no question in it; only command.
Carenia hesitated for but a moment, and then lowered her head. "No, Sir," she whispered.
Alferenzo turned to Elereen, who was watching him with narrow eyes. "Tell Viscount Como, his daughter is staying here in Eclion for the winter," Alferenzo said.
Elereen's mouth opened, the protest feeling as if it meant to come out. Alferenzo coolly stared at her until she closed her mouth, swallowed her protest, and bowed her head. "Yes, Sir."
___
A bit to the south, Marquis Duskwatch was in his study, red faced in fury as he threw a goblet against the wall. The metal clanged against the stone, wine shimmering dark against the tapestries.
"How?" he roared. "How could that street rat-!"
Sir Ren stood quietly, arms folded. "Moore and his men are dead," he said simply. "These Alfrenzo's forces far outmatched them."
Duskwatch narrowed his eyes. "Could we march straight into Eclion? Crush him at the roots?"
Ren shook his head, "It wouldn't be that easy. The knights and mages fight like demons, and the forest itself is behind them."
Duskwatch' lips twisted. "Perhaps I should call for reinforcements from the Duke... but he would see that as a weakness." And his voice grew quiet, almost to himself, "If he thinks I'm weak, he might... send someone to take my place."
As the Marquis brooded, the butler stepped briskly into the room, bowing low. "My lord- there are signs of a gate formation at the port."
Ren's head shot up, eyes wide. "A gate?"
Duskwatch's rage evaporated in an instant, replaced by icy calculation. "Get the Duke Siegfried and the crown as fast as you can," he said. "Tell them Eclion's shadow is not the only danger."
The port was ablaze with panic. Knights in Duskwatch's colors charged toward the shore to herd villagers and merchants away from the water's edge, armor clinking as they shouted orders.
Ren stepped right into the panic, his long black coat snapping in the breeze, and headed towards the knight in charge. He found a grizzled veteran knight named Sir Garran. His face was set and grim.
"Status?" Ren barked.
Sir Garran quickly bowed. "Evacuation nearly complete, sir. We're forming a perimeter at the furthest edge of the docks. The gate is…it's like a tear in the world, sir. A rift in reality."
Ren's eyes darted to the sea. Just offshore the water frothed and churned around a shimmering rift—a dark crack in the very air getting larger with each heartbeat. It had begun small, but it was obvious that the sea itself was chewing up the edges, opening a way to somewhere far beyond.
"Where the hell are the mages?" Ren asked.
"Some of them are here," Garran said, steady, "The rest are at the guild, and Sir Varin has gone to fetch them."
Ren drew his longsword with a quiet hiss of metal. "Form a line. The edge of the port—nothing further back. Hold until the mages arrive."
The knights fell into position quickly, shields and blades twinkling as they formed a solid line at the edge of the wooden pier. The ocean wind clawed at their faces, but they stood firm at the edge of the rift, eyes on the moving gate.
A low, impatient roar rolled like thunder across the water from the rift—an ancient sound, not from this realm. Shapes kicked up waves beyond the shadowy edges.
The first beast stepped through the hole in the world. A massive shape, mottled blue skin, jaws full of jagged teeth, and claws bore holes into the stone of the dock as it walked, letting out a scream that rattled the knights to their bones.
More shapes followed. Scaled, furred—monstrous.
"Steady!" Ren called, his voice calm and cold. He raised his sword, its edge catching the light of the mana lamps. "We hold. No matter what comes through, we hold."
The knights shifted their weight, shields braced, spears lowered. As the first beast charged forward, the line shuddered under the impact—but they held.
The docks were a maelstrom of water, steel, and blood as Sir Ren fought through the press of monstrous forms. His longsword flashed like a silver comet, each swing cutting cleanly through sinew and bone. The mana in his body burned bright—he was a four-star advanced knight, and his every movement carried the weight of years of discipline.
A creature with serpentine arms lunged for him. Ren pivoted low, his blade shearing through its chest in a single, fluid motion. He didn't pause, turning to drive the point of his sword through the throat of another beast that had dragged itself from the icy water.