"... Oh Dreaded Angel of Menoraz, Isabella the Slayer."

At once, General Lilac's eyes turned sharp, and General Bloodborn couldn't help but take two steps back. Pale, but grinning, she looked at her arm. Even in the rain, the hair on her limb was standing, and she was shaking.

That feeling... When was the last time she felt such fear? When did she last feel like she was standing before a murderous behemoth, unable to put up even the slightest resistance? There was one time... One moment so long ago, but that was engraved in her memory like burning charcoal.

Grinning nervously, she grabbed her arm, but the action only reduced the shaking slightly. It was as if every cell of her body was screaming in utmost terror. Yes... That was the feeling from twenty years ago, the feeling she had been dreading and hoping for at the same time.

Staring in the dark eyes of the woman across her, and at the burning but cold fury below, general Bloodborn shuddered. She had thought that maybe that part of General Lilac had been lost, which was why she provoked her, but she was wrong. Oh, she was wrong.

For a moment she felt like she was back at that battlefield of twenty years ago. She saw the four different armies clashing, Menoraz collapsing under the combined attack of three kingdoms. She saw the body of the enemy general as she killed him, bringing her fame that would last forever.

And she also saw her. From nowhere, a Menoraz captain appeared. Leading a handful of soldiers, pitifully inferior compared to her enemies, she stood her ground. It was there that the young Isabella Lilac earned the nicknames that would inspire terror in the hearts of her foes for decades to come.

General Bloodborn still remembered the slim figure that stood before three armies and didn't falter. She remembered her disdain turning to disbelief and then to sheer horror as the bodies of the best three kingdoms had pilled up waist-high. Soldiers had to climb over the corpses of their comrades, and Iferes had to tear through them to get to the monster that was barring their path. They failed.

That day rivers became red with blood, the battlefield becoming the personal stage of someone like this war had never seen before. That day a legend was born, one that symbolized hope for those she protected, and stroke fear into her enemies.

Suddenly, the memory was gone. But in the old frame of the General Lilac of now, she saw that same old monster. It wasn't dead, like the other eleven kingdoms thought. It was in deep slumber. And if it woke up... She shuddered. When this war was over, she would have to personally advise King Marcus not to push Menoraz to the brink of despair ever again. She didn't like the consequences.

"Don't ever mention those names again, Bloodborn. If you do, I won't only scar your face. I will kill you where you stand, and f*ck the consequences. That person is long gone, and if you dare unearth her, I don't mind dying with you to stop the world from discovering it, understood?"

The fearsome Lapidum general, who was feared by friends and foes alike, could only nod and gulp anxiously. She watched General Lilac's back as the older woman returned to her camp, and cursed. The war was about to resume, and she had the feeling Lapidum would suffer because of her rash words.

------------------------

When Sarah saw General Lilac returning from the impromptu meeting unscathed, she heaved a sigh of relief. When she saw the serious look on her face, however, that sigh got stuck on her throat.

It wasn't the same kind of expression the general usually had. It was a look that spelled doom for anyone who bothered her. Simultaneously, Sarah and her new squad members stepped back, leaving Ruli to talk to her mother. She was probably the only one who didn't risk her wrath.

But the general just walked by her daughter without even looking at her. It was as if General Lilac didn't notice any of them.

"General..."

It was another general who approached her. His rank was lower than hers, but maybe he thought he could get through her because of it. He was wrong.

No sooner than he took a few steps towards her, the air in front of him rippled. A slit darker than darkness appeared, and from it Kilqia. The blind eyes seemed to stare straight at the officer, and the Ifere growled.

It wasn't a normal growl. It shook Sarah down to her bones, something so guttural that it activated her fight or flee instinct. And she wanted to flee. The general yelped, and stumbled back, eyes wide. And General Lilac kept walking.

This time, no one dared to stop her. Even Ruli, her daughter, was afraid to get too close to Kilqia. There was no doubt the Ifere would kill them in an instant if they tried to interrupt General Lilac's deep thinking.

Sarah glanced at Holber, who shrugged. He too had no idea of what was happening. As for Ruli... Sarah had never seen her captain so worried - granted, she hadn't known Ruli for more than a few days, but still. Sarah couldn't help but worry. She hoped she was overthinking it, but she had a feeling something important was happening.

-----------------------------

About at the same time that General Lilac was unwillingly remembered of her past, Drake was - to no one's surprise - cursing Unda. He didn't dare to say it out loud, obviously - it was bad luck to curse a Mystic Ifere. However, he firmly believed almost a month of nonstop rain could only be brought by a pissed-off god. As to what angered said god, and if it was even real, he had no idea.

What he did know, however, was that he was tired of the rain. If he wasn't riding an Yscalent, but any other Ifere, it would already have gotten stuck in the mud.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he conformed himself to his destiny. Well, for all he was complaining inwardly, he didn't think it was a bad destiny. Not at all.

In the last week, Drake had battled two other groups of criminals. Nothing so big or as dramatic as the attack on Calduk Farm, though. Once, three bandits made the mistake of trying to rob him. Now, they were all in jail, each with a new hole on their bodies.

The second occasion was when he heard gunshots, and discovered a gang of outlaws attacking a group of refugees. He didn't arrive in time to save all of the civilians, but most of the criminals were now dead, and the few that remained had scattered. As for their victims, the overweight police captain had promised to take care of them.

What was occupying Drake's mind now, however, had nothing to do with any kind of outlaw. The last time he had passed by a city, he had received a message from Ben Higler. It was just a few words, but their significance was enormous.

End the war.

Three words. Simple but at the same time completely nonsensical. Remembering the slip of paper he had found in his room the other day, Drake's fists clenched. He hoped he was being pranked, or that this was a ploy by someone, but he knew that was just wishful thinking.

There was also no doubt regarding who sent it. Of everyone he knew, only a certain ranger would be crazy enough to tell a nobody like him to end the war. Now, the question Drake had to ask himself was: how?

It wasn't like he could just waltz right in the middle of the two armies, and tell them to stop fighting. That would only get him killed, and he really wasn't a fan of that idea.

"F*ck sake, Ben... What do you want from me?"

He didn't think Higler was joking. Easygoing as the man may be, he was still a ranger. Amongst other things, rangers were famous for bringing a somewhat peaceful end to wars, talking with Old Ones, and stopping natural disasters. Sure, some of those were exaggerations. Probably. Still, it was well documented how some famous rangers did put an end to some battles and wars.

Shaking his head again, Drake felt a migraine incoming. He wasn't a ranger. He might become one in the future, but now, at this very moment, he was just another regular person. He felt the urge to call Higler and berate him, but he had already tried that. The ranger didn't pick up, knowing Drake would be fuming after his message.

"Crap... This is bullsh*t."

A big part of him wanted to say 'f*ck it' and go back to Blue Coral City, to settle down and live a happy and a lot less dangerous life. A bigger part, however, was thinking 'what if he really could end the war?' Unfortunately, that part was winning his internal struggle.

Still thinking of all that, Drake took the right on a fork on the road. There was an old sign pointing to another farm, the name too faint to understand. Eyeing the road, he saw several Yscalent pawprints on the mud.

Drake excelled at reading tracks now. Well, Yscalent tracks, at least. He didn't have the chance to study the signs other creatures left behind just yet. It wasn't like they taught that at university, so he had to guess and go through trior and error.

Not with Yscalents, though. No, he couldn't be more familiar with the tracks the wind-type Iferes left behind. How the back claw would leave a deeper mark when it was carrying weight, or how the distance between each pawprint showed how fast the Yscalent was going.

He didn't know that much about Yscalents before. Even what Higler told him was but a drop in a bucket of knowledge. But knowing if an Yscalent was carrying someone, or if they were in a hurry, could be the difference between walking cluelessly into a fight, or being prepared for it. It was no exaggeration to say that knowing how to read tracks was a matter of life and death. So, Drake learned. If he didn't, he would soon be dead.

Getting down from his mount, Drake knelt in the mud and analyzed the pawprints. They were deep, but not very far apart. Six, maybe seven people, carrying a lot of weight. Maybe farmers returning with seeds and whatnot?

The rain hadn't had time to wipe them out just yet, instead filling the marks with water. In Drake's experience, that meant only an hour or two had gone by since the riders passed by here.

Shaking off the rainwater that had found it's way inside his coat, Drake ruffled Kniivar's wet fur, and touched Frainer's misty body. Smiling at his companions, he urged his Yscalent forward.

He would just take a look at the farm, see who was there. If it were just workers and civilians, he would leave without alerting anyone. Or maybe he could ask for a cup of hot coffee? Mystic Iferes knew he needed it.

Chuckling, he made his way to the property. The tracks he was following were also going ahead, with no change in pace.

Three hours later, he saw the farm. It was very similar to any other he had been to, only smaller. According to the police captain, only four people lived there. The couple that owned it, their daughter, and an old worker that was almost part of the family.

Riding through the fields of tomato, cabbage, carrots, and other vegetables, Drake saw one or two Tezars and a few Ricianides. The slime-like creatures were bigger and rounder than ever, with all the rain that had been falling.

The Iferes didn't bother him, and neither did he bug them. Going straight for the red farmhouse, he saw seven Yscalents tied in front of it. They were very similar to the one Drake was riding, as all of them had the symbol of the Menoraz Army marked by iron and fire on them.

"Soldiers?"

He frowned. He was about a day away from the frontlines, so what were blue-coats doing here? Maybe General Lilac had sent them to do the same Drake was doing right now, and patron the area? Maybe...

There was something wrong. Drake's instincts were telling him that, and so was Kniivar's bristling fur, which refused to go down even in the rain.

The door of the house was half-open, and he could hear voices talking and laughing loudly. Drake felt a knot on his stomach, as his gut told him those voices meant trouble. But why?

Carefully pushing the door open, Frainer and Kniivar ready to act behind him, Drake entered the house. Waiting for him was the worst and most horrifying scene he had ever seen, and he had watched soldiers tell each other apart in battle.

Thrown against a wall, clearly dead, were two men. On the middle of the living room, laying on the floor, necks broken, were a middle-aged woman and young child that couldn't have been more than twelve. Both had their clothes torn apart, and were...

Tearing his eyes off the horrible sight, Drake stared at the seven people standing in the room. Soldiers, wearing the dark blue uniform of Menoraz, who had stopped laughing when they heard him entering. Some still had their pants down.