A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing

After Erik went down, the battlefield went silent for a moment. Everyone looked a little dumbfounded at the chaos that was unleashed from one moment to the next.

One moment, they were having a tense but relatively peaceful conversation with some fairy. The next, Emily had nearly lost herself while almost being kidnapped, and then Erik went down, his fate uncertain.

"M— Master—!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes wide as she took a stumbling step towards the bloody heap where he previously stood. Guilt and self-blame rose inside her like a tide. He risked his life to save her, but she couldn't even keep herself under control? She cursed her own lack of discipline.

Not far away from her, Astrid blinked, her eyes no less focused on her husband's form. Yet, her discipline and awareness were certainly higher than Emily's, because her head quickly snapped to the side. "Dammit! Emily! Despair later, act now!"

Shocked, Emily turned in the same direction and immediately realized the problem. With Erik's thundersnow barrier down, the chaos of the battlefield could now pour in, and it did so greedily.

The remaining Humanitas Sangh forces were already routing, running frantically from the bloodthirsty Enkarians, but they didn't do so silently. Since the Arcanists ran slower than their pursuers, they did everything they could to hinder them.

Explosions echoed, a few Arcanists flew into the air, and the ground shook as hundreds of thousands of footsteps and movement abilities thundered through the surroundings.

Yet, previously, this massive flood of people was forced to go around the thundersnow barrier… and now they weren't. Suddenly, Emily, Elora, Emma, Astrid, Enkhur, and Enkai were faced with thousands of Arcanists and Runebound threatening to trample them, even as Erik was desperately in need of treatment.

At the same time, Elora had finished forcing the portal to close and looked anxiously at Erik's body. It was worse than last time. She could feel his very soul wavering, and it frightened her to no end.

But she only let herself feel that way for a mere second. Discipline slammed down, and she cursed with worry. "Damn, that reckless idiot!"

She zoomed into the air and towards her wounded beloved. At the same time, she started shouting orders. "Protect us!"

Her words brooked no disobedience, and everyone jumped into action, including Ankhur and Enkai. Although their feelings about being inducted into Erik's fledgling empire were still mixed, they weren't about to simply let him die. Certainly not after he saved their people.

Fortunately, most of them were third-ranked, and they reacted instantly.

Emma barely paid attention to Elora or the incoming flood, having already sunk to her knees next to Erik. She didn't cry, plead, or look desperate. Instead, she diligently cast her healing spells, ignoring the world around her.

But her sister-wives knew better. They felt the turbulent emotions behind Emma's stony mask and knew she'd cut herself off from the outside world. Now, all that existed was Erik and her spell. The fact she'd soon be trampled by a flood of first- and second-rankers didn't seem to register. Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire

Or, perhaps, she simply trusted her allies to protect her. Which was a fair assumption.

Before the horde of fighters could reach Erik and Emma, the others had already taken up position around them, with Elora quickly joining Emma.

Now, Astrid, Emily, Enkai, and Ankhur stood around them, easily cutting down whole swaths of Arcanists whenever they dared get too close. Soon, a field of corpses was strewn around them, and any stampeding Arcanist was quickly swerving sideways.

In the middle of it all, a mortally wounded Erik was lying prone as several healing spells were doing their work on him.

***

Yet, Erik noticed none of it. In fact, he was having a very strange experience of his own.

"Ugh," he groaned softly as he fought himself back to consciousness. With a scowl of discomfort, he slowly blinked open his eyes, only to be assaulted by a strange sense of deja vu.

Above him was the canopy of a tranquil forest, infused with aetherium. This was a scene he immediately remembered from his first day on Söl, where he woke up in the middle of a forest near the main dwelling of Söl's Obsidian Enclave fairies.

"What the hell?" he grumbled softly and tried to move his limbs. Finding them in working order, he cautiously jumped to his feet, his head on a swivel, eyes narrowed. "At least I don't seem to be dying this time… But still, where am I? And why does it look like Söl?"

"You are inside my soul, little friend. Welcome."

Suddenly, a deep, ancient voice reverberated around him, and Erik snapped around in surprise. As soon as he saw who spoke, his eyes widened, and he instantly knew who this was.

In front of him sat an extremely large man. Since he was sitting with his legs crossed, it was hard to determine his true height, but Erik had no doubt he was any less than four meters tall, nearly twice the size of Erik himself.

The man had a long, black beard that reached down to his broad chest. His old, wise blue eyes were set in a slightly sunken face that was likely handsome once but now appeared sickly and pale.

His massive body was covered in brown rags, which strangely contrasted with his stately appearance and the intricate, clearly powerful greatsword resting against his shoulder.

Finally, and most notably, he was covered by vines and roots. From the surrounding trees and ground, a large amount of greenery crawled across the grassy ground and wound inexplicably around the giant's frame. Yet, he didn't seem bothered by this. Instead, his old eyes stared curiously at his visitor.

"What you're seeing is just an illusion, little friend," the voice explained helpfully, even though the giant didn't move his lips. "I'm afraid the truth of my being, and the being attempting to ensnare me, would drive you insane. Thus, I merely created a facsimile of the truth."

His tone was warm and friendly, but that didn't soothe Erik in the slightest. No, because Erik was still trying to make up his mind about what this man represented.

"Ymir, I presume?" he asked, sombrely.