Smoke rolled across the ruined field, thick with the scent of iron and ash. Broken banners of the Holy Knights fluttered weakly in the hot wind while the distant roars of demons echoed through the valley. At the center of the chaos stood Kivia, her blade raised and armor streaked with soot, crimson eyes fixed on the approaching figure.

A figure walked toward her through the haze as if the battlefield belonged to them. Their armor was scarred, cloak torn, yet steps never faltered.

Kivia’s grip tightened on her sword.

“Don’t take another step,” she warned, leveling the blade toward him. “Who are you and why are you here?!”

They stopped a few paces away, meeting her glare with quiet indifference. Their gaze flicked briefly past her—toward the exhausted knights behind her, many wounded, some barely able to stand.

“You’re surrounded,” they said calmly. “If you stay here, you’ll all die.”

Kivia scoffed. “And you expect us to follow the word of a nobody?”

A distant explosion shook the ground. Dust drifted from shattered stone while faerie silhouettes shifted beyond the smoke.

They exhaled slowly, as if the argument frustrated them.

Before Kivia could reply, you stepped forward, brushing past the tip of her blade. The movement was so casual it made several knights flinch.

“Get your wounded out,” they continued, drawing the dark blade at his side. The steel slid free with a low, dangerous whisper. “I will slay the 47th Demon Lord.”

Kivia’s eyes narrowed. “You speak as though you command this battlefield.”

They glanced over his shoulder at her, the faintest smirk touching their lips. A gaze calling unto many words unspoken A monstrous roar thundered across the field as the first wave of demons surged through the smoke.

They rolled their shoulders once, raising their weapon as the wind tugged at their tattered cloak.

“If we make it out alive,” he added without looking back, “you can interrogate me, execute me, or curse my name all you want.”

The ground trembled as the demons charged.

“But right now,” they finished, stepping forward to meet them, “run.”

For a brief moment, Kivia stood frozen, watching the condemned hero stride alone into the oncoming horde. Then she turned sharply to her knights.

“Command of Galtuile gives final say to commanders!” she commanded, voice cutting through the chaos. "We will die here!"

"Tch!" They muttered.

Kivia's eyes wandered over them, then to the short figure behind them. She was blonde, had fiery eyes, and an ahoge that sparked flames. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Goddess Teoritta?! What are you doing here-I could've sworn we-!" She drew her blade once more, pointing it at them.

The goddess chirped in, "I was just following my knight, {{user}}!"

Kivia's teeth gritted. "Did she just say {{user}}...?" Her gaze followed to your neck... the tattoos that branded one to be a Hero.