The dawn over Stormrift was crimson — not from the rising sun, but from the lingering glow of flarebeacons fired by scouts at the border.
Kaelen stood over a war map, flanked by Haran, Mira, Lira, and the newest council members. He pointed to the eastern edge of the territory.
"The Bloodfang Marshes have begun consuming nearby settlements. A Lord known as Veylor attempted to resist, but his last message begged for aid."
Mira crossed her arms. "I thought the Marshes were neutral."
"They were," Haran growled. "Until someone stirred the rot."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "It's time we stirred back. We march at first light."
The march to the Marshes was unlike any campaign Kaelen had led. The land itself seemed to resist their advance. Trees grew twisted, their bark blackened by decay. Mist slithered across the ground like living serpents. Even the air tasted foul — thick with mold and malevolence.
"We're not just dealing with corrupted Lords," Lira muttered. "This land is cursed."
Kaelen nodded. "And we walk into its heart."
Beside him, Mira's summon — the moon-wrought hawk, Eclipsa — flew ahead, scouting for movement.
"We'll reach Veylor's stronghold by dusk," she reported. "But something's watching us."
Kaelen didn't need her to explain. He could feel it — cold eyes in the fog, following their every step.
By sunset, they arrived at Rotspire — a crumbling stone bastion half-swallowed by the swamp. Its once-proud walls were coated in moss and blood. Screams echoed from within.
Kaelen raised a fist. "Form up!"
Summons surged forward, blazing trails through the choking vines and fetid waters. Lightning wolves leapt alongside armored dragons. Archers with flame-hawks rained fire upon twisted beasts crawling up the walls.
"Push forward!" Kaelen shouted, charging in with his own spectral glaive summoned mid-stride.
Inside, Lord Veylor — a wiry man with ash-colored skin — stood surrounded by a few loyal soldiers, barely holding ground.
"You came…" he gasped, wounded. "I didn't think the council truly existed."
"It does now," Kaelen replied. "Let's end this."
From the bog beyond Rotspire's rear gate, a trio of corrupted Lords emerged. Their summons were horrors — flesh-melded serpents, armored leeches, and giant insects with human faces.
The largest of them, Lord Draygen, hissed, "You trespass in lands already claimed."
Kaelen stepped forward. "You poisoned these lands. You'll find we have an antidote."
Draygen laughed. "There is no cure for decay."
The battle ignited.
Draygen's summon — a rotting hydra — lunged, mouths snapping. Kaelen's spectral lion clashed with it midair, fangs meeting rotting bone.
Mira darted between shadows, slicing through summoned pests with deadly precision.
Veylor, rejuvenated by aid, called forth his swamp wyvern, releasing toxic breath against enemy ranks.
And Haran? He crushed two enemy knights with a single swing of his spiked hammer, roaring louder than any beast on the field.
As the tide began to turn in favor of Kaelen's forces, a terrible cry rang out — not from the enemy, but from behind.
A group of supposed allies — Lords from a minor faction — turned on Kaelen's rear guard.
"They've betrayed us!" Mira shouted, eyes wide. "They were never loyal!"
Kaelen gritted his teeth. "We expected this."
With a flick of his hand, a hidden battalion of elite summoners emerged from the forest, countering the ambush in moments. Spears of crystal and wind spells lacerated the would-be traitors.
Kaelen stepped toward the bleeding Lord who led the betrayal. "You sold your soul for what? Marshland and broken promises?"
The traitor hissed, "We only serve power."
Kaelen raised his glaive. "Then let it judge you."
Back at the front, Draygen's hydra shrieked as Kaelen's lion pierced its final heart. The monster collapsed, rotting into the swamp.
One by one, the corrupted Lords fell — not just to might, but to strategy. Lira's traps detonated under their feet. Mira's blades danced through their defenses. And Kaelen stood at the center, a whirlwind of judgment and fury.
With the death of Draygen, the remaining corrupted fled into the deeper bogs.
Veylor collapsed to his knees. "You saved my people. My land."
Kaelen placed a hand on his shoulder. "Rebuild. With us. The council welcomes those who still stand for life."
As Kaelen's forces secured Rotspire, Sarya and Aina arrived by sky-beast, landing softly beside the main battlements.
Aina surveyed the battlefield with a hardened gaze. "You ended it."
"Not yet," Kaelen said. "We cut the head. The rot's still in the roots."
Sarya knelt by one of the corrupted Lords' remains, studying the magic residue.
"This… wasn't just summoning magic. It was soulcraft. Someone is rewriting summon cores — twisting them."
Kaelen frowned. "Then we need answers. And fast."
Aina's summon pulsed beside her, its silver-feathered wings glowing.
"We're ready to help. Our summons are evolving faster now — and thinking more clearly. They've seen glimpses of who's behind this."
"Then we follow the trail," Kaelen said. "Into the deep."
Later that night, under the stars, Kaelen stood with Mira atop Rotspire's highest tower.
"You knew there'd be a betrayal," she said softly.
"I hoped I was wrong," Kaelen replied. "But power always attracts vultures."
She studied him for a moment. "You're changing. Stronger. Colder, maybe."
Kaelen looked down at his gloved hands. "Every battle chips something away. But I won't lose myself. I promise."
Mira leaned against him. "Then let me help you hold onto who you are."
Their silence was comfortable. Needed.
Meanwhile, in the restored temple wing of Rotspire, Aina and Sarya communed with their summons. The beasts sat calmly, their auras synchronized.
"They're sensing a signal," Aina whispered. "Something far away — like a summoner's pulse calling across the world."
Sarya's eyes narrowed. "We may not be the only evolved summoners. Someone… or something else is out there."
Aina stood. "Then our journey doesn't end here. It truly begins."
With Rotspire liberated and a new alliance cemented, Kaelen gathered his commanders once more.
"Our next objective," he said, pointing to a new mark on the map, "is the Crystal Lowlands. A confluence of summon energy and ley lines. If we can claim it… we control the flow of magic across half the realm."
"And if we fail?" Haran asked.
Kaelen's gaze hardened. "We won't."