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[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr7MHs7DyXA&list=RDcr7MHs7DyXA&start_radio=1]☽·.༺【 ►】༻.·☾[/url][/center]

The chamber groaned with the sound of breaking stone as Edwin’s aura pulsed again, jagged shadows crackling outward like a living storm. The cultist seized forward in their advance, their plain face twisting in an eerily pleased expression a split second before the three-pronged lance drove cleanly down.

SCHLIK.

The strike landed true. Bone and flesh parted under the crackling prongs, lightning arcing in sizzling veins down through their skull. For the briefest moment their expression froze — slack-jawed, laughter cut off mid-breath — before their head toppled from their shoulders and rolled across the floor with a hollow, echoing knock. Their body crumpled a heartbeat later, spasms still twitching as necrotic shadows ate into the remains.

But the chamber was not quiet.

The Mana Beasts hollow eye burned brighter, green fire glaring with defiance as it scraped its skeletal teeth from the dents and punctures left in Edwin’s armor. Chunks of rotted flesh sloughed away under the bite, dripping uselessly onto the stones. The knight’s armor held, but the sound — wet grinding bone on steel — clawed at the silence.

It drew its head back, jaws stretching wide for another savage chomp—

Hiss!

The cub.

Hardly larger than Edwin’s gauntlet, the tiny creature spat and swiped with a feeble paw, claws flashing once against the looming monster’s nose. The gesture was pitifully small, almost laughable, but the effect was startling. The undead beast jerked back a fraction, its jaw snapping shut with a sharp clack, recoiling from the cub’s hiss like a predator stung.

That recoil revealed something rather troubling. Beneath them, the blood was pooling from the decapitated cultist, spreading fast across the cracked stones, spidering toward a dip in the room that looked almost like a drain. 

The skeletal claw of the undead mana beast rose and came down to strike at Edwins side. An unnatural cry emitting from its rotting throat. 

[hider=stats]
Edwin: 4/5
Cultist: 0/35
Mana Beast: 18/30 -1 from necrotic damage, -1 from Aura dealing with the cultist. [/hider]

[center]┍━☽【❖】☾━┑[/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/1VjvpDM.png[/img][/center]

Elsewhere,...

Aedrianna kept her body pressed low against the war steed’s neck, violet-blue eyes flicking sharply through the dense curtain of foliage. The beast’s hooves churned against damp earth and twisted roots, powerful but slowed by the uneven terrain. She urged him on with a firm nudge of her heel, whispering soft encouragements into the flick of his ear.

[COLOR=Pink]“Steady now… steady. Just a little further.”[/COLOR]

Her voice quavered, not from fear but from the anger and dread knotting in her chest. The soothing words were as much for herself as they were for the beast beneath her.

The faint, invisible tug of her mana-trace pulled her down the slope they had been climbing, toward thinner trees and looser undergrowth. The humid air shifted with each step, the musk of rot and wet greenery giving way to a sharper, cleaner scent. Water. The lake was near.

And then she saw it.

Through the gaps of jungle, a pile of stones jutted against the horizon—collapsed walls, broken columns, and half-sunken arches overtaken by moss and vine. It might once have been a temple, but now it was nothing more than a ruin, jagged edges thrust skyward like the bones of some ancient corpse.

But it was not empty.

Figures lingered at the ruin’s base.

Her breath hitched as she reined the steed to a slower gait, ducking low into the saddle. They looked so… plain. Utterly unremarkable in their faces, their clothes, their bearing. They almost blended together.

All save one.

At the heart of the group stood a woman—striking, vivid, as though she had been painted with a different brush. Long pink hair fell like silk down her shoulders, framing eyes the color of polished amethyst. In her hands, she turned over an amulet that hung around her neck, its surface faintly glowing. 

The war steed pawed at the ground beneath them, restless, ears pinning back as his crimson gaze fixed on the gathered strangers. Aedrianna’s grip on the reins tightened, her pulse hammering in her ears. Edwin was inside those ruins—her tracing spell had made that much certain—but there were seven of those strange, indistinct men blocking the way… and that woman with the pink hair and violet eyes, her amulet pulsing faintly with power.

Aedrianna bit her lip, mind racing, the wheels turning as she searched for a way through.

[COLOR=Pink]“Maybe…”[/COLOR] she muttered under her breath. Sliding from the saddle, her boots hit the damp earth softly. She moved quickly to the horse’s side, turning her body so the ruins were at her back, and pointed her fingers toward the opposite treeline.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, syllables catching on the breath as she shaped mana into form. The illusion began to shimmer faintly in the foliage beyond—a trick of sound and light, the suggestion of movement, something large crashing through undergrowth.

But before she could focus the spell, the war steed  beside her gave a shrill whinnie.

His head snapped back violently, hooves striking the air as he reared onto his hind legs. The ground shook beneath her boots as his massive form thrashed at something behind her. And then,...