Astral Epoch

As the night descended, the stone pillars of the Black Tortoise ruins cast deep shadows, and the cold wind whistled through the broken structures, carrying an eerie sense of heaviness. The meeting had just ended, and the Four Guardians were each gathering their thoughts. Adrian lingered on the conversation from earlier, his fingers lightly brushing the hilt of his spear, faint flashes of lightning dancing along its length. He could feel the Azure Dragon's Might stirring within him, as if something was drawing closer.

Lia stood nearby, her gaze calm like still water, yet her fingers lightly brushed the strings of her harp, sensing the deadly intent drifting through the air. Her brow furrowed slightly, a subtle warning rising in her chest. But before she could speak, the air suddenly thickened, and in the next instant, a blade of darkness sliced through the air, aimed directly at Adrian!

The air was torn apart by the sharp blade, and the sound of something slicing through the air rang out, sharp and piercing! The deadly intent hidden in the darkness finally erupted as several streaks of cold light shot out from all directions, aimed directly at the Four Guardians. The first sword strike narrowly missed Adrian's ear as he swiftly ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow. The blue stone beneath his feet was instantly scarred by a deep crack from the attack.

At the same time, Lia's sleeve fluttered lightly as her fingers brushed the strings of her harp, releasing an invisible soundwave that shattered the incoming hidden weapons.

In the distance, Cassius and Cain were also ambushed. Cassius reacted quickly, drawing his sword in an instant and slashing through the air like a gust of wind, forcing the nearby assassin back. Cain, calm as a mountain, subtly shifted his arms, and the power of the Black Tortoise surged, using his defense to break through the enemy's offensive.

However, the number of assassins from the Legion of Dusk far exceeded expectations. Their figures flickered through the darkness, moving in perfect coordination, swiftly dividing the Four Guardians and preventing them from supporting one another.

Adrian quickly steadied himself, his gaze sweeping across the area. He noticed that the enemy was gradually tightening their encirclement. With a sharp growl, he spun his Thunder Spear, and electric light erupted from it. He knew this time, he had no choice but to take the initiative and fight back!

Electricity crackled along the edge of the Thunder Spear, and thunder split the night sky as Adrian's spear danced like a violent storm, meeting the charge of the Nightfall assassins. The first enemy barely had time to react before he was consumed by lightning. His body twisted violently in the current, his scream cut short as he was reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse.

But the battle was far from over. More Nightfall Warriors closed in from all directions, their movements ghostly and swift. The blades they wielded were shrouded in eerie black mist, and it was clear—these were not ordinary assassins, but Fallen Starborn, tainted by the power of the Abyss!

A chill ran through Adrian's heart, but just then, a sudden chord from Lia's harp rang out. A deep, ethereal blue light spread from her fingertips, and the soundwaves struck like invisible chains, penetrating the air and assaulting the assassins' minds. Two Nightfall assassins staggered, their eyes going blank, their consciousness momentarily shattered.

In that instant, Adrian seized the opportunity. With a fierce roar, he launched himself forward, his Thunder Spear flashing through the air like a bolt of lightning. The assassins were no longer prepared for the ferocity of his counterattack, and their defenses crumbled in the wake of his onslaught. The power of the Azure Dragon surged within him, amplifying his strength as he cut down one foe after another. Each strike was a blur of speed and precision, the Thunder Spear an extension of his will, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

Yet even as he fought, Adrian's mind remained sharp. The Legion of Dusk's numbers were overwhelming, and their coordination was unlike anything he had faced before. They were not just assassins—they were something more, something darker. The feeling of something ominous closing in, something beyond just the threat of death, hung heavy in the air.

The Thunder Spear swept through the air, its blade slicing in a perfect arc of azure light. It cut across the throats of two enemies with deadly precision, blood splattering as their bodies collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash! Adrian took a deep breath, feeling the power surge through him. He could sense that Lia's ability was more than just sonic assault—it was an invisible coordination, a flow that made his movements more fluid. The rhythm of battle no longer relied solely on instinct; they were starting to find a perfect synchronization.

"Good," Lia whispered softly, her fingers lightly brushing the strings of her harp. The soundwaves spread once again, dulling the attacks of the Nightfall Warriors. "Follow my rhythm."

Adrian didn't respond verbally, but the Thunder Spear flashed once more, its blade shimmering like a mighty dragon in the dark. The two of them, for the first time, truly showed the harmony of their combat on the battlefield.

As the assassins surged forward, their movements were no longer fluid or graceful. Adrian could see them falter, their strikes growing sluggish, as if the very air around them had become heavier, more oppressive. Lia's music, subtle but powerful, wrapped around their minds like an invisible chain, distorting their senses and forcing them into a dissonance. It was like a storm of sound, both beautiful and terrifying, throwing their concentration into disarray.

With every swing of his Thunder Spear, Adrian felt the pulse of Lia's rhythm guiding him, their movements meshing into something greater than either could accomplish alone. The Nightfall Warriors' numbers dwindled, their deadly precision shattered, and in this chaos, Adrian and Lia became a whirlwind of destruction—a force of nature that could not be stopped.

In the midst of the storm, Adrian's eyes locked onto the shadows in the distance. Something was coming—something far worse than the assassins they were cutting down. A powerful, dark presence loomed, and he could feel the tension rising in his bones. The true test was about to begin.

The battle reached a standstill, with the number of Nightfall Warriors far exceeding expectations. The Four Guardians were completely separated, each facing their own enemies. On the other side, Cassius moved like a blade in the darkness, his shadowy figure flickering in and out, with death hanging in the air.

Unlike Adrian's storm of lightning and fury, Cassius fought with a cold, calculated precision. There was no wasted movement; every strike he made was aimed directly at the heart, leaving no room for error. The black mist churned as several Nightfall assassins silently approached. But Cassius barely shifted his stance. His long sword flashed like a wraith, and in an instant, a red line burst open across the throat of his target. Blood sprayed, and the corpse fell lifeless to the ground.

His movements were eerie, as if he were stepping through the very shadows of the night. No one could predict where he would strike next. Another Nightfall assassin swung his blade with deadly force, the black sword energy cutting through the air towards Cassius. But Cassius did not retreat. He didn't even flinch. As the blade neared his forehead, he suddenly twisted his body, sliding past the deadly edge like a ghost, then swiftly reversed his sword. In a single fluid motion, he stabbed backward, driving his blade deep into the heart of the assassin. Blood soaked the ground, the red staining the dark night like a crimson omen.

The assassins, relentless as they were, couldn't touch him. They were mere shadows against the darkness of his skill. Every one of their attacks was anticipated, their movements read and countered with terrifying ease. His presence in the fight was like a harbinger of death—silent, swift, and inevitable. Each assassin who dared approach him met the same fate: a swift and fatal end.

Despite his deadly efficiency, Cassius remained unhurried, never breaking his calm, his gaze cold and distant. His mind was clear, his body moving with an almost mechanical precision. In the chaos of the battle, he was an unshakable pillar of stillness, his enemies' futile attempts to overwhelm him fading into the night with the same quiet finality as their lives.

But even in the midst of his ruthless precision, he couldn't ignore the growing sense of something more—something darker—moving within the shadows. The Nightfall Warriors were relentless, but there was something deeper behind this ambush. And he, like Adrian, could feel the storm gathering on the horizon.

"Too slow." Cassius murmured coldly, flicking the blood from his blade. His eyes were devoid of emotion as he surveyed the battlefield, quickly fixing his gaze on Adrian.

He watched as Adrian fought side by side with Lia, the Thunder Spear crackling with lightning, each strike amplified by Lia's harmonic waves. The battle was much smoother, their synchronization undeniable. But even from a distance, Cassius could see the flaws. Adrian's movements, though powerful, still carried a certain rawness, a hint of inexperience. His strikes lacked the chilling intent of someone truly forged for battle.

"Still too idealistic," Cassius scoffed, his form melting back into the shadows. In an instant, his sword gleamed again, a flash of silver like the scythe of death, harvesting the lives of Nightfall assassins one by one.

He was everywhere and nowhere at once—each of his strikes was a whisper of death, a precise and methodical dance. No emotion, no mercy. Cassius didn't need to rely on the strength of his attacks alone; he understood the rhythm of life and death, the brief moments of vulnerability, the slight hesitation in every movement. His enemies fell without a sound, their lifeblood soaking into the earth as his blade carved through them with clinical efficiency.

And yet, his gaze never left Adrian, watching the younger warrior's struggle. There was potential, yes, but it was a flickering flame, unrefined and too easily extinguished. If only he could learn to abandon his ideals, to truly embrace the coldness of battle, Cassius thought. The world doesn't care for heroism. Only the strong survive.

The Nightfall assassins seemed to realize the futility of their efforts against Cassius, their movements slowing as fear crept into their hearts. But Cassius was already gone, slipping back into the darkness to reappear elsewhere, a shadow among shadows. Each flicker of his presence heralded another death. There was no grace to his fight—only efficiency.

The battle raged on, the assassins of the Legion of Dusk pressing in relentlessly. Adrian's Thunder Spear crackled with blue lightning, each strike pushing enemies back, but his strength was fading fast. His movements slowed, the weight of exhaustion dragging him down.

A Nightfall Assassin lunged at him, dagger aimed for his heart. Adrian tried to retreat, but his feet were caught in the shadow. His Thunder Spear was too slow, and evasion was no longer possible.

Just as the assassin's dagger neared, a sharp sound cut through the air. Lia's harp strings vibrated, sending a wave of energy that disoriented the assassin. His strike faltered, and Adrian seized the moment, swinging the spear to knock the dagger away and force the assassin back.

But more Nightfall assassins surged forward, closing in around them.

"Adrian, move!" Lia called, her voice sharp.

Adrian nodded, muscles aching, but he forced himself to keep going. "Together," he muttered.

Side by side, they fought, the rhythm of their movements syncing as they faced the oncoming wave. But the Legion of Dusk showed no sign of retreating.

In that moment, Adrian heard the deafening roar of his own heartbeat. The lightning exploded violently within him, as if something deep in his blood had awakened. The Azure Dragon's Might surged forth, igniting his entire body. His vision cleared in an instant, and without thinking, his Thunder Spear lunged forward. The spearhead found its mark, piercing the assassin's chest in a single, decisive strike. Arcs of electricity spiraled around it, tearing the enemy apart into charred fragments.

Adrian stood over the fallen assassin, his chest heaving. He glanced down at his hands, still tingling with the residual crackle of lightning. The power flowed through him with an unfamiliar smoothness. He could feel the shift in his stellar energy—it was no longer the erratic storm he once struggled to control. This was precision, mastery.

He wasn't just fighting with fury anymore. He had become something more—something controlled, something deadly. The thunder no longer consumed him; he was wielding it, shaping it.

This was the moment he realized he wasn't merely a warrior bound by his rage—he was the true heir of the Azure Dragon, the very force of the storm itself.

Lia's gaze lingered on him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sensed the change in his aura. In that instant, she understood. Adrian had taken the first step onto the true path of the stars. And this was only the beginning.

The lightning continued to churn through the night, its crackle ringing like a storm unleashed. The scent of burning flesh hung heavily in the air as the Nightfall assassins fell, one after another. The tide of battle had finally begun to shift in their favor. Lia's harp played a soft, haunting melody, the soundwaves rippling through the air, dispersing the lingering murderous intent hiding in the shadows.

One assassin, unable to maintain his concealment any longer, stumbled into the moonlight with a muffled grunt. In the same instant, Adrian's Thunder Spear flashed forward. The tip tore through the assassin's chest, and a burst of lightning shattered his body into charred fragments, leaving only the remnants of what was once a deadly threat.

Elsewhere, Cassius remained a silent specter, his movements as fluid and precise as a well-placed strike from death itself. His sword flashed through the darkness, its edge never faltering, every motion deliberate and exact. He stood atop the blood-soaked stone steps, his cold eyes scanning the field with practiced indifference. Then, his lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, "Too slow."

Before the words had even faded from the air, Cassius flickered from his position, appearing behind the final Nightfall assassin. With a swift flick of his sword, the assassin's blood sprayed into the air, the body crumpling without a sound, lifeless before it could even hit the ground.

With the fall of their comrades, the remaining assassins of the Legion of Dusk faltered. The leader, seeing the inevitable defeat, let out a growl of frustration. "Retreat!" he commanded. The surviving assassins vanished into the darkened forest, their bodies blending with the shadows, leaving no trace of their presence.

The battlefield was quiet now. The embers of the fire crackled softly, and the stench of blood filled the air, heavy and oppressive. Silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the distant sounds of the wind sweeping through the ruined ruins. The storm had passed, but the aftermath left a stark reminder of the price of survival.

Adrian stood over the fallen assassin, his breath steadying as the last remnants of lightning dissipated from his Thunder Spear. He loosened his grip on the weapon, letting its blade fall with a soft clang against the stone. The crackling electricity lingered for a moment before fading entirely, and with it, a new clarity settled within him. He wasn't the boy who had once been a pawn in someone else's game anymore. Tonight, he had proven to himself that he could stand on his own.

His gaze lifted to the horizon, where the night sky met the distant peaks of the mountains. A greater battlefield awaited—one of his own making. Tonight had been a trial, but it was just the beginning. His true journey had only just begun.

Cassius, however, was less impressed. His eyes, cold as steel, met Adrian's with a sharp, calculating look. A sneer twisted his lips, his voice dripping with condescension. "If that's what you call an 'awakening,' then the standard for starborn power must be ridiculously low." His words were meant to provoke, but Adrian didn't flinch.

Instead, Adrian raised his head, locking eyes with Cassius. The lightning in his gaze remained—brilliant, unyielding—and a small, confident smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then we'll see."

Lia watched the exchange in silence, standing a few paces away. Her gaze flickered between the two men, sensing the tension simmering beneath the surface. She could feel the growth in Adrian, the shift in his power, but she also knew this was just the first step on a much more difficult path. The ambush by the Legion of Dusk had been just a taste of what was to come, and she could already sense the storm gathering on the horizon.

The wind stirred, carrying the scent of the earth and blood through the ruined ruins. Silence fell across the battlefield, broken only by the crackle of distant embers and the soft rustling of leaves. The battle was over, but the true war was only beginning. And in the stillness of the night, the weight of that truth hung heavily in the air.