Beneath the ground, the chamber was quiet now.
Isaac stood still, breathing hard. The battle was over, but his body still felt tense. The two sickles in his hands hummed with strange energy. They were heavy, but they felt right, like they belonged to him.
He looked around.
The ancient locust warrior was gone. There was no body, no blood. Just cracks on the ground and walls from their fight. Isaac's chest rose and fell as he tried to understand what just happened.
"What was that vision?" he whispered. "What was that thing?"
He didn't have answers. But he didn't have time to wait for them either.
Behind him, the stone wall began to move. Slowly, with a deep grinding noise, a different doorway slid open, revealing a narrow tunnel.
Light from glowing moss lined the walls, leading to an exit somewhere.
Isaac looked back one last time, then stepped forward.
The door closed behind him.
He didn't know where the tunnel led.
But he had a feeling the real fight hadn't even started yet.
—-----
Above the ground, the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the courtyard.
Guards marched out with heavy boots, dragging chains behind them. The wooden execution stage stood tall at the center, surrounded by soldiers and citizens forced to watch. Archers lined the walls above.
King Geoffrey sat on a raised throne built just for the occasion above the royal balcony. He wore his silver crown, his robes flowing, and a twisted smile on his face. This wasn't justice. This was a show.
The platform stood with five ropes hanging from the wooden beam above, swaying gently.
Ben, Nai, Putol, and Elder Peter were dragged out first. Blood stained their clothes. Their faces were bruised. They could barely stand. Chains clinked around their wrists and ankles.
Mira walked behind them, held by two guards.
Then came Aiah.
Her arms were tied behind her back, her fire was locked away.
She didn't cry, didn't scream. But her jaw was clenched tight. Her eyes locked on the prisoners, her body tense with rage.
The crowd murmured.
Whispers spread.
"They're really going to kill them?"
"Isn't that the princess?"
"Why would she be here?"
King Geoffrey stood.
He raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent.
"These traitors dared to break into my palace," he said, voice echoing across the square.
"They tried to steal my most precious..." his eyes lingered on the princess "...treasure, and overthrow my rule. This is the fate of intruders. This is the price of betrayal."
He looked at Aiah and muttered,
"Watch closely, my dear. This is what your loyalty has earned them."
The guards slipped ropes around their necks and began to tighten the nooses.
Ben growled through broken teeth. Nai spat blood at the ground. Putol said nothing, his face blank. Elder Peter whispered a prayer. Mira trembled, trying to hold back tears.
The drums began to beat.
One. Two. Three...
King Geoffrey raised his hand to signal the execution…
But then…
A guard near the edge of the stage turned his head. His brow furrowed.
"Wait… who's that?"
One by one, heads turned.
Far across the courtyard, just beyond the edge of the plaza, past the crowd, past the gates, past the archers lining the walls… someone was walking.
Dust kicked up around his boots. His clothes were torn. Blood stained one sleeve. But he walked like he owned the world.
Isaac.
An axe strapped to his back. Two sickles hanging at his sides, glinting with green Abyssal light. His eyes locked on the stage.
He didn't run.
He didn't shout.
He just walked forward, every step like thunder in the bones of those who watched.
From the execution stage, Mira's breath caught. Her bloodied hands clenched around the rusted chains.
"…Isaac?" she whispered, like she didn't dare believe it.
Putol blinked, stunned. "That hero… he actually came."
Nai, teeth bloodied from being beaten, let out a wild, unhinged laugh. "That's our guy. Took his sweet time, though."
Ben's eyes widened, a grin tugging at the corners of his bruised face. "Oh, they're screwed."
Aiah's eyes welled up. She blinked, stunned.
"…Isaac?"
Her lips trembled.
A breath caught in her throat... then, a whisper.
"…You came."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Only Elder Peter, slumped over and barely conscious, managed a faint smile.
Harper froze. His mouth dropped open.
"No…" he whispered. "He's here?"
King Geoffrey noticed the panic in Harper's eyes.
"You know him?" the king asked, amused.
"He almost killed me," Harper muttered. "He's not normal. He's…"
"Silence." Geoffrey waved him off and laughed. "One man? Against my whole army? Look at him! What's he going to do, plant cabbages?"
He pointed at the sickles and roared with laughter.
"A farmer's sickles? That's his weapon? Really?"
The soldiers laughed with him.
Archers readied their arrows. Soldiers moved to block the path.
Hundreds of spears. Shields.
"You dare face me alone?" the king scoffed, a cold laugh escaping him. "An entire kingdom's might… against one foolish boy?"
But Isaac didn't blink.
He stopped walking.
"You think I came alone?" he said.
Something shifted.
A small shape fluttered down and landed gently on Isaac's shoulder. Hopper.
The crowd laughed harder.
"That's it?" someone shouted. "An insect?"
Even Geoffrey snorted. "Pathetic."
But then…
Isaac spread his arms and whispered…
"Swarm authority."
[Swarm Authority Activated]
The sky darkened.
A sound rolled across the land like distant thunder. Not from the clouds. From above them.
A shadow passed over the sun.
And then it came.
The swarm.
Hundreds of thousands of locusts poured from the sky like a living storm, wings slicing the air, bodies packed tight like a tidal wave of blades and death. They blotted out the sun, screaming downward.
The air turned cold.
The ground began to shake.
Archers dropped their bows.
Soldiers backed away.
Harper staggered, eyes wide in horror.
"He commands the swarm… he controls them!"
Isaac lowered his arms. His voice cut through the chaos like steel.
"Release them."
"Or face what's coming."