Ice raced along the chain, freezing links brittle and cracking the embedded hooks. She wrenched free and rolled aside as the housekeeper yanked the chain back with startling strength, metal singing through the air.

LeBrand's illusions collapsed inward, trying to bury her under a swarm of mirrored Lunas. She ignored them completely, eyes fixed on the housekeeper instead.

Caretakers lived by routine. Routines could be baited.

Luna stepped deliberately into the path of the next chain strike—then vanished in a flicker of shadow.

"Umbra transitus."

She reappeared directly behind the woman, staff already raised and glowing.

"Glacies cordis."

Frost erupted from the housekeeper's back, surging inward through ribs and spine, locking the heart in a single, merciless pulse. The woman stiffened, breath clouding white in the cold air, then pitched forward without a word, chain clattering to the marble.

LeBrand screamed—a raw, furious sound.

The mirrors shattered in a deafening cascade of silver shards as Luna turned fully toward him. Without the housekeeper's steady presence anchoring the illusions, they unraveled like smoke in wind.

Spell by spell, she drove him back—frost lances, shadow whips, bursts of raw mana—until he stood exposed in the center, form flickering wildly.

"This was never about killing me," Luna said, advancing slowly. "It was about buying time."

LeBrand laughed, the sound thin and brittle. "And did it work?"

She answered with a final, clean surge of mana that punched straight through his chest. He dissolved into fragments of light and broken glass, presence fading until nothing remained but silence and the crunch of shards under her boots.

The chamber stilled.

Luna stood breathing hard for several long seconds, then turned toward the passage that led away from the noble quarters. It sloped outward rather than deeper, stone gradually giving way to packed earth and weathered brick. The perfumed stillness of the upper floors faded, replaced by the sharp bite of night air, damp hay, and the faint musk of animals long gone.

Somewhere ahead, something breathed—slow, deep, patient.

The stable doors stood wide open.

Massive timbers reinforced with iron bands, ward-sigils carved deep into the wood—not to keep intruders out, but to keep something inside. Moonlight poured through the gaping holes in the roof, silvering the wreckage: stalls torn apart, feeding troughs splintered, deep gouges scarred into the stone floor where hooves had struck with unnatural force.

Luna stepped across the threshold, every sense stretched tight.

She felt the distortion before she saw the source—mana knotted unnaturally in the center of the enclosure, drawn into a dense core of shadow and restless motion. Then wings unfurled with a thunderclap snap, blotting out the moonlight as the creature lifted its head.

The Dark Pegasus.

Its coat drank light rather than reflected it—blacker than the night around it, veins of faint crimson pulsing beneath the skin like embers under ash. Wings arched wide, feathers trailing wisps of shadow with every shift. Its eyes locked on her—intelligent, furious, nothing like the mindless hunger of the undead she'd faced before.

This was no corpse. A living beast, Rank-6, but weakened somehow, frayed at the edges.

It screamed—a piercing neigh that rattled beams and shook dust from the rafters—and charged.

Luna threw herself sideways as hooves smashed the ground where she'd stood, stone exploding upward in sharp fragments that stung her legs. She rolled, came up on one knee, staff raised just as the pegasus reared, wings beating hard enough to tear loose planks from the ruined roof.

"Easy," she breathed, knowing it couldn't understand. "I don't want to kill you."

The creature answered with another dive—shadow trailing from its wings like dark blades.

Luna cast on pure reflex.

"Aegis altum!"

The barrier flared tall and wide. The pegasus struck it head-on; the impact shoved her backward across the dirt floor, boots carving long furrows. Pain lanced through her shoulders. She skidded to a stop, rolled to her feet, breath coming in sharp bursts. Mana reserves flickered low—dangerously low.

She couldn't match its raw power here. Not head-on.

So she changed the tempo.

Instead of striking back, she drove her staff into the earth and spoke softly.

"Noctis lorum, tempera."

Shadows flowed outward—not as chains, but as gentle weights spreading across the ground like dark, cool water. The pegasus faltered mid-charge, hooves slowing as the magic dulled its fury without forcing it still.

It snorted, wings flaring wide again, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Luna took one careful step forward, palm raised open.

"I see you aren't bound to anyone anymore," she said quietly. "How about you follow me instead?"

The pegasus screamed once more, but the sound cracked—less rage, more confusion. Its movements grew erratic as the calming shadows tugged at its instincts.

Luna lifted her free hand higher. Her voice stayed low, steady despite the ache in her limbs.

"Anima ferox, audi me… Non vinclum, sed pactum. Non dominus, sed comes."

A sigil took shape in the air between them—slow, deliberate, woven from shadow, frost, and raw mana. The circle hung open, unfinished, waiting.

The Dark Pegasus lowered its head slightly, wings folding partway. Crimson veins pulsed slower. It watched her, weighing.

The stable grew quiet except for the soft creak of settling beams and the distant drip of water somewhere in the dark.

Luna waited, hand still extended, the sigil glowing softly between them.

The Dark Pegasus faltered mid-stride, wings beating in ragged, uneven strokes. Its breath came in harsh snorts, steam curling from flared nostrils into the cold stable air. One last desperate lunge carried it forward—hooves gouging deep furrows in the dirt, shadows trailing like torn cloth from its flanks.

Luna didn't move.

She planted her feet and drove the butt of her staff into the earth with both hands.

"Submissio libera."

The sigil hanging between them snapped inward like a closing fist.

The pegasus slammed to a halt inches from her chest, so close she felt the heat radiating off its coat. Hooves skidded, throwing up dirt and stone chips that stung her legs. The creature shuddered violently—shadow peeling away in ragged streams, crimson veins pulsing brighter then dimming. A raw surge flooded through the bond: pain sharp as broken glass, rage hot enough to burn, grief deep and old and wordless. It crashed into Luna's mind like a wave.

She clenched her jaw and held on, refusing to let go even as her knees trembled.

Minutes stretched into something endless. The stable creaked around them—beams settling, distant wind whistling through broken roof tiles. Slowly, the pegasus's wings folded tighter against its sides. Its head lowered until its muzzle nearly brushed the ground. The oppressive knot of mana in the air loosened, shadows retreating like tide pulling back from shore.

Luna sagged forward, leaning hard on her staff to keep from falling. Sweat stung the cut on her brow.

"There," she whispered. "That's enough."

The pegasus huffed once—soft, almost resigned. It didn't bow its head in submission. It didn't nuzzle her hand. But it didn't lash out again either. The bond settled into something fragile, unsteady, but real.

Outside the stable, deep within the manor's bones, wards shivered like struck glass.

Luna exhaled slowly, then gripped a handful of the pegasus's mane. It shifted its weight, steadying itself as she swung up onto its back. The sudden height changed everything—the stable's ruined rafters, the moonlight spilling through gaps, the faint outlines of balconies and terraces wrapping the manor's outer walls. From up here she could see routes she hadn't noticed before: narrow paths along the stone, broken arches leading inward, angles that might let her approach unseen.

Options.

She looked back toward the manor's shadowed bulk, eyes narrowing.

"Next," she said quietly.

The Dark Pegasus stamped one hoof. Feathers rustled like dry leaves. Then it spread its wings and lifted off in a single powerful beat, carrying her along the outer balcony paths where stone met open night.

The manor's exterior unfolded in broken glimpses as they glided low—towering walls cracked by time and violence, archways that once framed musicians and dancers now serving as perches for silent hunters, bloodstained terraces where moonlight pooled like spilled ink. The pegasus moved with careful balance, wings half-spread to skim the stone without touching.

Luna dismounted on a wide balcony ringed by a low parapet. The moment her boots hit stone, the pegasus snorted sharply, wings flaring wide. It sensed him first.

Carlone stepped from the shadows beneath a ruined arch.

Tall, broad-shouldered, armor plain and brutal—no engravings, no glowing sigils, just dark steel forged for one purpose. In his hands rested a massive two-handed blade, its edge blackened not by rust but by layer upon layer of old, never-cleaned blood. His presence pressed down like a storm cloud—raw, heavy, promising nothing but violence.

He didn't speak.

He charged.

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