The morning sun crept over the treetops, bathing the battlefield in golden light. 

Lyra's breaths came quick and shallow as she sprinted across the forest edge, her bowstring pulled taut with another enchanted arrow. 

She could feel the weight of the villagers' hope behind her, their frightened murmurs carried on the wind.

Lyra yelled, her voice sharp and defiant.

"Hey, you fucking witch, come chase me!" 

Ahead of her, Evelori turned, her mangled humanoid form still bubbling in places where Zach's enchanted sword and Nert's desperate final strike had struck. 

Her grin twisted cruelly, her dark eyes narrowing as she cackled, the sound echoing like shattered glass.

"Get off, annoying pest!" Evelori spat, her voice dripping with venom. 

"I'll deal with you later—after I've consumed the fear of those villagers! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Lyra's heart clenched at those words. 

She murmured to herself, but her feet didn't falter. 

"Huh, fear? That's what this is about?!"

She skidded to a stop, planting herself firmly in the soil, and loosed the enchanted arrow in one smooth motion.

Evelori, despite her injuries, moved unnaturally fast, dodging the projectile with fluid precision. 

Lyra cursed under her breath, nocking another arrow.

Lyra muttered. 

"You're slippery, huh?" 

She loosed another arrow, then another—both missed as Evelori weaved between the glowing projectiles with eerie agility.

Then, with gritted teeth, Lyra took a deep breath, her fingers steady as she loosed her next shot. 

The arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself in Evelori's left side with a sickening hiss.

Lyra shouted triumphantly.

"Gotcha!" 

Evelori's scream tore through the forest. 

"AAAAAAARRRRGHHHHHH!"

Her humanoid form began to bubble and ripple as if evaporating, her skin hissing and popping with grotesque sounds. 

But just as Lyra thought she'd weakened the witch, Evelori's body stabilized.

 Evelori snarled. 

"Enough of this!"

She suddenly extended her tongue, unnaturally long and sharp like a spiked spear, hurtling it toward Lyra's chest.

Lyra froze, her eyes widening in shock as the deadly appendage closed in—but then, with a sharp crack, Yzavynne's whipblade wrapped around the tongue, yanking it aside.

"Not today, you monster!" Yzavynne growled, her arm straining as she held the tongue at bay.

That was the moment the rest of the Renaissance Band surged forward. 

Gargeal, Qarek, Leeani, Jiighual, and Zach charged with singular focus, their weapons gleaming under the morning light. 

Evelori's bubbling form solidified into her humanoid shape as they cornered her, the force of their combined will too much for even her corrupted body to evade.

Gargeal was the first to break the silence, his voice rumbling low like thunder. 

His greatsword had pinned her right arm to the ground, its edge digging into the bubbling black flesh. 

His face, weathered and scarred, twisted with grief as he spoke.

"This is for my student," he growled, his words thick with sorrow. His grip tightened on the hilt of his weapon, veins bulging in his forearms. 

"He was just a boy, Evelori. He came to me, eager to learn, ready to fight for something greater than himself. And you—" 

His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, his breath shuddering. 

"You took that away. You stole his future. So now... I'll take yours."

Yzavynne's whipblade constricted tighter around Evelori's torso, the metal digging deep into her flesh. 

Yzavynne's hair fell into her face, her expression a mix of fury and anguish. 

Her eyes burned as she leaned closer, her voice cutting through the air like steel.

"You'll die today," she hissed, her tone venomous. Her voice faltered slightly as she continued, her grief spilling out despite herself. 

"You don't deserve to say his name. You don't deserve to exist after what you've done to him. To all of us." Her hands trembled, but her grip did not loosen.

Qarek knelt beside Evelori's left arm, driving his enchanted knife deeper into the joint. 

His movements were precise, almost mechanical, but his face betrayed him. His usually calm demeanor had cracked, his eyes bloodshot and wet.

He said through gritted teeth.

"You're not going anywhere."

His fingers twisted the knife slightly, eliciting another scream from Evelori. 

"Do you hear me? You don't get to run. You don't get to slither away into the dark. Not after... not after him." 

Evelori's bubbling form convulsed, her mouth beginning to open as green toxins gathered in her throat. 

Jiighual saw it first, and with a roar of pure rage, he threw himself forward, clamping her jaw shut with both hands. 

His strength was immense, his fingers digging into her skin as he forced her corrupted form to stay still.

"You will not fucking get away," Jiighual bellowed, his voice echoing through the forest. His teeth were bared in a snarl, his normally jovial face twisted with anguish. 

"Not this time. NOT AFTER NERT!" 

His voice broke on the name, and tears streaked down his face as he leaned all his weight into her.

Evelori's torso began to ripple and morph, dangerous spikes beginning to emerge—but Leeani was faster. 

Her crossbow fired with precision, the enchanted arrow embedding itself in Evelori's chest.

"Not a chance."

Her sharp features were set in a grim expression, but her hands trembled slightly as she loaded another arrow. 

"You're not taking anyone else from us. Not today. Not ever again." 

She tightened her grip on the crossbow, her knuckles white as she tried to steady her breathing.

Zach stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. 

His sword gleamed in the sunlight, but his eyes were dull, hollowed by the weight of the moment. 

He stopped just a few feet from Evelori, looking down at her twisted form.

"This isn't just about you, Evelori," Zach began, his voice low and trembling. 

"This is about him. About Nert." 

He closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. 

"You took someone who... who didn't ask for this. He didn't ask to be a hero. But he was."

Zach's voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath, the grief catching in his throat. 

"He fought for us. For all of us. He gave everything he had. And now he's gone. And we're still here. Because of him."

Behind him, the rest of the band listened in silence, their grief manifesting in different ways. 

Gargeal's hands shook as he kept his greatsword in place, his jaw clenched tightly. 

Yzavynne's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, her expression a mixture of fury and heartbreak. 

Qarek's lips moved silently, as if whispering a prayer. 

Jiighual let out a low, guttural growl, his rage simmering just beneath the surface.

Lyra stood frozen, her bow slack in her hands. 

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly as she watched the band work together to hold Evelori down. 

Behind her, Seraphina, Aina, and Haerak stood with the villagers, their collective hope palpable in the air.

Ruby knelt by Nert's still body, her hands trembling as she gently closed his eyes. 

Her tears fell silently, tracing paths down her cheeks as she whispered.

"You can rest now, Nert. We'll finish this. We'll make sure... we'll make sure you didn't die for nothing."

The band pressed closer around Evelori, their collective grief and fury converging into a single, unyielding force. 

Evelori thrashed, her form bubbling and writhing, but their resolve did not falter.

The villagers watched in silence, their breaths held as they witnessed the band's unbreakable unity. 

And as the sun rose higher—

Its light illuminating the battlefield—

It seemed for the first time in what felt like ages—

That hope was beginning to bloom.

△▼△▼△▼△

Zach stepped forward once more, his boots sinking into the damp soil beneath him. 

The enchanted sword in his hand gleamed faintly, a sharp contrast to the blackened and bubbling form of Evelori pinned beneath the Renaissance Band. 

Her thrashing had lessened, her grotesque features flickering between desperation and malice. 

She hissed weakly, black liquid spilling from her lips, but her strength had waned.

Zach's shadow loomed over Evelori as he stopped just inches away, the tip of his blade hovering over her neck.

He stared down at her, his chest heaving with deep, uneven breaths. 

For a moment, he didn't speak, the weight of what had been lost pressing down on him like an unbearable force. 

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, trembling slightly.

He said, his voice low and steady. 

"Goodbye, Evelori."

But as he spoke her name, his gaze drifted to the earth beside him—the patch of grass and soil where Nert's lifeless body lay. 

Ruby had stayed behind, her small frame hunched over as she knelt beside him, her hands still clasped over his chest. 

The sight of her grief-stricken form made Zach falter. 

He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard as he addressed the man they'd lost.

"And goodbye, Nert..." His voice cracked, and he exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a moment. 

"You shouldn't have had to do this. You shouldn't have been here. But you stood with us. You stood with me, even when you didn't have to. You never gave up, even when the world tried to break you."

His knuckles whitened as his grip on the sword tightened. 

He shook his head slowly, as though trying to keep his composure, but his voice broke again as he continued. 

"You were one of us, Nert. You were. Not because of how you fought or the pain you endured, but because of who you were. And now..." 

He paused, his shoulders trembling. 

"Now you're gone. And I don't... I don't know how we're supposed to keep going without you."

Yzavynne's whipblade constricted again, and she let out a low, guttural sound—a mix of a sob and a growl. 

Gargeal turned his head away, his jaw clenched tightly, while Qarek bowed his head, his lips moving in silent prayer. 

Jiighual stood frozen, his hands still gripping Evelori's face, his teeth bared as tears streaked down his bloodied cheeks.

Zach whispered, his voice steadying despite the tears welling in his eyes. 

"But we will."

He lifted the sword slightly, the tip pressing gently against Evelori's bubbling throat. 

"We'll keep going. For you. For all the battles you fought, for all the times you stood beside us. We'll fight. And we'll win. Because that's what you'd want."

He tilted his head upward, the sunlight catching the tears that finally spilled down his cheeks. His voice rose, trembling but resolute. 

"Rest now, Nert. You've earned it. You've earned more than this world ever gave you."

With a final breath, Zach steeled himself. 

"This is the end. For her. For you. For all of this."

And with that, he plunged the enchanted blade into Evelori's neck.

Her scream ripped through the clearing, high-pitched and unnatural, as her form began to bubble violently. 

Black liquid spewed from her wound, hissing and evaporating as it hit the ground. 

The soil around her writhed, the dark tendrils of corruption curling and shrinking as though recoiling from the light.

Jiighual was the first to release her, his hands trembling as he stumbled back. His chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths, his face contorted in raw grief and rage. 

Yzavynne followed, retracting her whipblade with a sharp snap, her shoulders slumping as she staggered a few steps away. 

Gargeal and Qarek released her arms simultaneously, their weapons dripping with the black substance that had oozed from Evelori's corrupted form.

The tattoo on the foreheads of Jiighual, Leeani, Yzavynne, and Qarek vanished instantly.

Evelori's body began to dissolve, her once-humanoid form bubbling and evaporating into thin wisps of smoke. 

Her screams weakened, turning into faint whispers, then nothing at all. 

"No—no! M—my... My si—!"

And then—

Finally—

She was gone.

The clearing fell silent, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the morning breeze. 

The blackened soil beneath them lightened, the grass beneath their feet slowly returning to its natural green. 

The twisted, doll-like creatures that Evelori had created disintegrated one by one, their wide, soulless eyes closing as they crumbled into nothingness. 

The dark substances that had oozed and poisoned the ground vanished, leaving behind only the earth as it once was.

Zach lowered his sword, the blade still gleaming faintly. 

His arms fell limply to his sides, and he looked around at the others—at their tear-streaked faces, their weary forms.

In the distance, at the edge of the forest, the villagers began to cheer. 

It started quietly at first, a single voice calling out in hope, in relief. 

Then another joined, and another, until the entire village was shouting, their voices carrying over the clearing like a wave.

Aina clung to her father, Haerak, her small hands gripping his tunic as she smiled through her tears. 

Seraphina wiped at her face with trembling hands, her usually vibrant expression muted with exhaustion but tinged with hope. 

Lyra stood silently, her bow slack in her hands as she watched the band gather themselves, her sharp eyes soft with emotion.

"It's over, finally."

Ruby remained by Nert's side, her head bowed as she whispered something inaudible. 

She looked up only briefly, her gaze meeting Zach's. 

There was a silent understanding between them—a shared grief, a shared purpose.

Zach turned back to his band, his voice hoarse as he spoke. 

"It's over," he said softly, almost to himself. 

"She's gone."

Gargeal nodded solemnly, his greatsword slung over his shoulder. 

"But the scars she left... those won't fade so easily."

Yzavynne clenched her fists, her crimson hair falling into her face. 

"She took too much from us," she said through gritted teeth. 

"Too much."

Qarek placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle. 

"But she's gone," he repeated, as though trying to convince himself. 

"And that means we can rebuild. We can start again."

Jiighual's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. 

"But not without him. Not without Nert."

The band fell silent again, their grief hanging heavy in the air despite the cheers of the villagers behind them.

And then, slowly, Zach sheathed the enchanted sword. 

He looked at each of them in turn, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. 

"We'll mourn him," he said, his voice steady. 

"But we'll honor him, too. By living. By fighting for the future he believed in."

The others nodded, their expressions somber but resolute.

The Renaissance Band stood together. 

They had won. 

But the cost of their victory would never be forgotten.

△▼△▼△▼△

As the last remnants of Evelori's dark presence faded into nothingness, the villagers of EmberWind stood frozen at the edge of the forest, their eyes locked on the clearing where the Renaissance Band had battled for their lives—and for the village's future. \

For three long years, they had lived under the shadow of Evelori's corruption. Crops had withered. Livestock had vanished. Families had suffered nightmares so vivid they no longer dared to sleep. 

The air itself had felt heavy, saturated with her poisonous essence.

And now—

It was over.

The celebration hung in the air, broken only by the faint crackle of leaves beneath cautious footsteps. 

It was Haerak, the chieftain, who stepped forward first, his weathered face streaked with tears. 

His daughter, Aina, clung to his side, her small hand gripping his cloak as she stared wide-eyed at the band and the patch of now-cleansed earth where Evelori had died.

"She's... gone?" Haerak asked, his voice trembling, as though afraid speaking it aloud might undo it.

Seraphina placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft but firm. 

"She's gone, Haerak. For good."

The chieftain collapsed to his knees, his shoulders shaking as relief overtook him. 

"By the spirits... three years, isn't it?" he choked out. 

"Three years of torment, and now... it's over."

The villagers erupted then, a swell of cheers and cries that echoed across the forest. 

Men embraced each other, some falling to their knees in gratitude. 

Women wept openly, holding their children close, their faces alight with a hope they hadn't dared to feel in years. 

Aina's laughter rang out, a bright, joyful sound that seemed to carry away the lingering darkness as she spun in circles, her small feet kicking up the dirt.

One of the older villagers, a wiry man with a crooked back, knelt and pressed his forehead to the ground. 

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking. 

"Thank you, spirits, for sending them to us."

The celebration grew as more villagers joined in, the fear that had gripped them for so long finally giving way to joy. 

Someone began to sing—a simple, old tune that many knew—and soon the forest echoed with voices raised in song.

△▼△▼△▼△

Zach finally stood, his gaze sweeping over the village and his comrades. 

He raised a hand, signaling for quiet. 

Slowly, the villagers fell silent, turning their attention to the man who had led the fight.

"Nert," Zach began, his voice carrying across the clearing.

"Was one of us. He fought for you, for all of us, without hesitation. He gave everything he had so that this village could have a future."

His voice wavered, and he took a deep breath before continuing. 

"We'll honor him the only way we can—by making sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain. By protecting this village and the people he believed in."

The villagers bowed their heads, their expressions somber as they murmured prayers for Nert.

Zach turned back to his band, his voice low but steady. 

"Let's take him home."

Together, the Renaissance Band lifted Nert's body, carrying him toward the village. 

The celebration quieted, the villagers stepping aside to let them pass. 

The joy of victory mingled with the sorrow of loss, creating a bittersweet moment that none would forget.

As they carried Nert through the village, the people of EmberWind lined the path, their heads bowed in respect. 

And though the band's hearts were heavy—

The villagers' gratitude was a reminder of what they had fought for—

And what Nert had died for.

═════ ◆ TO BE CONTINUED ◆ ═════