The jet dipped beneath the cloud line.

Below was the war. The once-vibrant borderlands of Alfheim were scarred beyond recognition. Forests that should have been alive with ancient magic were now twisted, blackened, and crawling with movement.

Void-born. Hundreds, no.. thousands.

They swarmed like a living infection, tearing through elven defensive lines, climbing trees, dragging warriors down from branches, and corrupting everything they touched.

And among them, larger shapes moved. Void beasts. The air itself felt wrong.

Inside the cockpit, Yamal’s eyes narrowed.

"Target-rich environment."

Maelis tilted her head slightly, fingers hovering over the controls.

"Wind patterns shifting... multiple high-density clusters ahead."

Yamal’s hand moved.

"Good."

The jet’s underbelly shifted. Panels slid open with smooth precision. Weapons armed, there were no loud alarms, no dramatic build-up. Just quiet readiness.

"Firing."

The jet unleashed hell.

Beams of condensed energy tore downward in clean, devastating lines, slicing through clusters of void-born like a divine blade through paper.

BOOM!!!

Explosions rippled across the battlefield as heavier rounds followed, detonating among the larger beasts.

A towering void creature lunged upward, and a second beam erased its upper half instantly.

The battlefield shook from the shockwave. Elven warriors looked up in shock as the sky itself began killing their enemies.

Yamal didn’t stop.

He adjusted angles, targeting movement patterns, and eliminating the densest concentrations with surgical precision.

"Clearing path," he said calmly.

Behind him, Regnare watched.

"Good."

Maelis spoke softly.

"Auto-pilot engaged."

The controls shifted, and the jet stabilized midair. Then it shimmered. The silver lines along its body pulsed once, and it vanished. Gone, as if it had never been there.

Inside the cabin...

Everyone stood, weapons ready, their energy rising. Rhask cracked his neck.

"Now this feels right."

Brayk grinned.

"Finally."

Kalev locked his rifle into position across his back. Nyarelle’s daggers slid into her hands without a sound. Troval’s glaive sparked. Grun exhaled slowly. Vekran rolled his shoulders. Rexa spun her scythe once. Drak adjusted his grip on the poleaxe. Vorr flexed his fingers around his hammers.

Onyx stood beside Regnare, calm and unbothered. Regnare stepped forward. The rear ramp opened. Wind howled into the cabin instantly, violent and cold. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Below... The battlefield waited. Regnare didn’t hesitate.

"Move."

He stepped off.

One by one, they followed with no fear and no pause. Just descent. The Knights of the Dawn Cross fell from the sky like meteors. Wind tore past them as they dropped at impossible speeds, the battlefield rushing up to meet them.

And then... Impact.

BOOM!

The ground erupted as they landed across different points of the battlefield, shockwaves blasting void-born away in every direction. Kalev hit first, rolling forward and firing instantly, his rifle barking with kinetic force as rounds tore through multiple targets.

Drak and Vorr landed together... Their weapons swung. The earth shook. Void creatures were crushed instantly under overwhelming force.

Nyarelle didn’t make a sound when she landed; she was already gone. Reappearing behind a cluster of void-born, her blades flashing once, and bodies fell.

Brayk slammed into the ground like a comet, tattoos blazing as he tore through enemies with brutal efficiency.

Troval’s glaive carved arcs of lightning through the battlefield, while Grun followed like a living fortress, smashing anything that survived.

Rhask laughed as he tore into a group of void creatures, his movements savage and precise.

Rexa spun through enemies like a dance of death, her scythe leaving crimson trails.

Vekran became a blur, death in motion.

Above it all, Regnare didn’t land. Mid-fall, wings erupted from his back, massive and draconic. Four of them. They spread wide, catching the air with explosive force as he shifted direction instantly, shooting forward like a streak of silver and gold.

His eyes locked onto a single point... A massive tree, ancient-looking, towering above the battlefield. Its branches stretched like a fortress in the sky. That was where the elven commanders of this battlefield were.

He accelerated. Wind screamed around him as he cut through the chaos, passing over battle lines, over destruction, over the war itself.

Below, his team carved a path, relentless, precise, and unstoppable. For the first time since the assault began, the elves had breathing space.

Regnare reached the tree in seconds.

He slowed, wings folding slightly as he landed on one of the massive branches with controlled grace.

Around him, elven warriors turned instantly, weapons raised. Their eyes widened, not in fear, but in recognition.

Power recognized power.

Regnare stood tall, his golden-accented uniform untouched by the chaos below.

His gaze met theirs, calm and unshaken.

"The Knights of the Dawn Cross have arrived," he said.

For a brief moment, the branch was silent.

Wind rushed through the colossal tree, carrying with it the distant screams of battle, the clash of steel, and the guttural cries of void-born being torn apart below.

Then one of the elves stepped forward. He was tall and elegant. He wore armor etched with ancient runes that shimmered faintly with emerald light. His silver hair flowed down his back, and his sharp eyes locked onto Regnare with immediate recognition.

"You’re not ordinary reinforcements."

Regnare met his gaze evenly.

"No."

"I am Regnare Satan Kael’Dri. Imperial Crown Prince of Anbord. Commander of the Knights of the Dawn Cross."

The air shifted. Even among elves, pride ran deep, but power was always acknowledged. The commander inclined his head slightly.

"Elandor’s scouts spoke of you," he said. "I am Vaelith, First Blade of the Eastern Guard."

Regnare gave a single nod.

"Situation."

Vaelith didn’t waste time.

"The void-born began overwhelming us three hours ago. Their numbers increased exponentially, but that is not the main issue."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"There are leaders among them now."

Regnare’s gaze sharpened.

"Humanoids?"

"Yes."

A second elf stepped forward, her voice tight.

"They adapt. Coordinate. They’re directing the lesser ones and targeting our commanders."

Regnare glanced down at the battlefield again. He could already see it, the patterns in the chaos... movement that didn’t belong to mindless beasts.

"How many?"

"At least three confirmed."

Regnare exhaled slowly.

"Understood."

Vaelith looked at him carefully.

"You came with a small force."

Regnare’s lips curved faintly.

"More than enough."

Before the elf could respond, a distant explosion shook the forest.

Regnare turned slightly.

"Maintain your positions. My team will create an opening."

Vaelith hesitated for half a second.

Then nodded.

"We will support."

Regnare stepped to the edge of the branch, wings unfurling slightly.

His voice dropped just enough to carry.

"Do not fall behind."

Then he was gone.

...

The battlefield had shifted.

What was once a defensive struggle had turned into something else entirely.

A counteroffensive.

Kalev moved like a mobile turret, his rifle barking relentlessly as rounds tore through void-born with devastating precision. Every shot was calculated, every movement efficient... his cybernetic arms adjusting angles faster than human reflexes could follow.

Drak roared as his poleaxe cleaved through a massive void beast, splitting it in half with a single swing. Vorr followed immediately, his twin hammers crashing down like meteors, pulverizing anything that tried to regroup.

Brayk laughed, loud and wild. His glowing tattoos flared as he tore into enemies with brutal, almost reckless force, each strike sending shockwaves through the ground.

Nyarelle wasn’t seen, only the result of her presence. Void-born collapsed one after another, their throats slit, their cores pierced, death delivered silently, efficiently.

Troval’s glaive lit up the battlefield with arcs of storm energy, lightning dancing across enemies and chaining through groups. Beside him, Grun advanced like an unstoppable wall, his sheer strength crushing anything that survived the initial assault.

Vekran spun through enemies in a deadly rhythm, his curved blades flashing in precise, elegant arcs.

Rexa moved like a crimson shadow, her scythe carving wide, devastating sweeps that left nothing standing in her path.

And then... There was something else, a different kind of presence. Yamal moved forward, his expression calm, unreadable.

Beside him was Rhask, grinning.

"Try to keep up," Rhask muttered.

Yamal didn’t respond.

A void beast lunged, Yamal drew one blade in a single, clean motion, and the creature split apart mid-air.

At the same time, Rhask was already behind another, his claws tearing through its spine with savage precision.

They didn’t communicate; they didn’t need to. Another wave came, fast and coordinated.

Yamal stepped forward, and Rhask stepped back; their positions shifted seamlessly.

A void-born aimed for Yamal’s blind spot, but Rhask intercepted instantly, tearing it apart before it could even reach.

A larger beast charged Rhask, and Yamal appeared at its flank, both blades flashing in a cross-cut that severed its limbs instantly.

Movement flowed, attack, cover, advance. They were in perfect sync. It was not rehearsed or planned, but based purely on instinct. Moments of fighting together distilled into something fluid, something dangerous.

Rhask laughed as he ducked under a strike, ripping through two enemies in one motion.

"This is what I’m talking about!"

Yamal moved past him, blades carving precise lines of death.

"Focus."

"I am focused!"

Another wave crashed into them and broke completely. Where they stood, nothing remained. Just bodies falling.

Silence followed for a brief second. Then, more enemies surged forward. Rhask cracked his neck.

"Round two?"

Yamal’s blades shifted slightly in his grip.

"Keep up."

Rhask grinned wider.

"That’s my line."

And together, they moved again, like death given form.