Severa woke the next morning to the warm rays of the sun falling on her face. The rain had stopped, and the soft rustling she heard signaled nothing more than a pleasant summer breeze. As she opened her eyes, she noticed the fire she had lit the previous night had burned out.

With renewed determination, Severa stood up. Resolutely, she set out on a new path toward Monterra. After walking through the woods for some time, growing increasingly confident in her plan, she suddenly heard murmurs in the distance. It was human, she was sure, and she already suspected who else might be wandering the forests of Nivalis.

It was the remnants of Brimsjá's army. About thirty men were gathered around a campfire, enjoying a meal of roasted Cornicani, providing enough meat for the entire group.

However, several bloodied suits of armor with large gashes, lying among their supplies, suggested the meal had not come without losses.

Severa crept closer to eavesdrop on a conversation between two men who had separated themselves from the group. Unlike the others, they wore grim expressions.

The older man's armor was even more ornate than that of the commander Severa had seen at the temple. His face was a network of wrinkles and scars, with a fresh wound running from his brow across his tightly closed eye.

"Should we have returned?" the man asked accusingly. "That escaped dragon bodes ill. What do you still expect from the prince? If anything goes wrong, it'll happen there."

Fear was evident on the face of the younger, muscular man with long blond hair. Normally, he would likely have exuded authority, but now he looked uncertain.

Rightly so, as the older man struck him hard with his fist. "Are you implying that I failed? That I let that damned little girl escape?" Spit flew as the man bellowed in fury.

"Ragnar, I mean no disrespect, but the king's orders—"

The older man cut him off. "What does she have to say, Leifur? That we have a fire dragon in our possession?" Ragnar laughed maniacally. The laugh, however, vanished as the younger man chuckled nervously in response. Ragnar seized him by the throat, causing him to gasp for air.

"Don't tell me what to do, boy. Thanks to your incompetence, not even a Pyroraptor could salvage this lunacy of a mission. I've followed the king's orders long enough, and I've put up with you fools long enough. Don't think I started this to fail." His anger briefly faded, replaced by a sinister grin. "We didn't go to Monterra to find some girl. I just needed to ensure my best and most loyal warriors were by my side, in case the legend was true. Do you honestly believe anyone could unleash the evil from the dark dungeons and live to tell the tale?"

Leifur stared at him in shock. "So that's what happened to our comrades? That's what killed them? Did they really unleash the evil?" he stammered, his red, swollen face filled with dread.

Ragnar released him, and Leifur doubled over, gasping for air. "Of course not," Ragnar sneered. "It seems I sent you with the wrong squad. Those who went to the temple were incompetent Ósköppen I'd rather be rid of. It was only a matter of time before that Pyroraptor devoured Hethen." He chuckled heartlessly, while Leifur looked at him in disbelief.

"You never respected King Egill's orders," Leifur muttered. Ragnar nodded with pride and triumph in his eyes. "King Egill didn't believe in the legends, though it would've been nice if we could harness the evil as we did with that raptor.

"What Egill wanted was to devastate Finemici with his son's help."

Ragnar shook his head disdainfully. "But he'll fail to paint his son as the ruthless ruler who earns the people's trust. Prince Einar won't be the heir to the throne."

"You... You agreed to this mission because you knew Einar would venture beyond the castle walls for the first time," Leifur stammered in awe, a faint smile creeping across his face.

Ragnar clapped him on the shoulder. "We're heading to Sylvamarius to give Einar a little surprise," he said with a wicked laugh. "Egill's heir will be a thing of the past. We'll seize his ship, and—"

CRACK! Severa froze as a twig snapped under her foot. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized the gravity of what she had just overheard.

Ragnar and King Egill might have manipulated the legends for their schemes, but something truly lay in those dungeons. And if the legends were true, she had just unleashed the evil. Could Himaya grow any darker? Instead of hiding, she stood paralyzed.

"There she is!" bellowed one of the soldiers. They leapt to their feet, grabbing their weapons, and prepared to attack.

Severa cursed herself. The army was on her heels, arrows whistling past her ears. But cries of pain rang out as well, though she only focused on running.

Looking back, she saw the trees taking on almost human shapes, their branches stretching out to ensnare the men. Roots wrapped around their legs, tripping and toppling them. But it wasn't long before they rose and resumed their pursuit.

What was happening? She had been in these woods many times before, but never had she seen the trees come alive. As this thought crossed her mind, she stumbled over an exposed root, tumbling forward into the dirt.

Himaya seemed to have gone mad. Looking at her hands, now caked in mud, she realized with horror that it wasn't just earth. The ground was soaked in blood. She looked up to see an enormous creature with dagger-like teeth and yellow eyes, cloaked in a filthy coat of black-and-gray fur, matted with bloodied clumps. Massive horns adorned its head, one still hanging with remnants of its last victim, something resembling a grotesquely large Veneficii.

There was no mistaking it. It was a Cornicani.

Severa's breath caught. The beast lunged, its teeth sinking into her side. But the pain was surprisingly bearable. In a jolt, she suddenly found herself on its broad back, choking on the stench of its fur. As it moved, she could do nothing but cling to its filthy hair.

The beast tore through the forest with incredible speed. The only sounds were its heavy breathing and the rustling of its limbs through the underbrush. A dreadful certainty settled over her. She was being aided by nothing less than the evil she had unleashed.

Her father's words echoed in her mind: Resist evil, and it will consume you. Serve it, and your fate will favor you. She had always hated the notion, encouraged by her mother, of course. It wasn't that she wouldn't serve evil—she simply wanted to control her own fate.

The creature barreled through the woods, its erratic movements disorienting her. After a while, the surroundings grew familiar.

Towering trees and a river splitting into waterfalls all flowed toward the bay of Sylvamarius. That meant... Severa's eyes widened. This was exactly why she sought to control her fate. She knew where she was. Sunlight pierced through the thinning trees ahead, revealing where the forest abruptly ended at the edge of a cliff. The beast was moving too fast to stop.