The battle between Elowen and the knights showed no sign of ending. All this time, Elowen had kept her blade sheathed, using only the heavy scabbard to block, strike, and deflect every attack directed at her. She moved with effortless grace and precision, turning their own strength and momentum against them again and again.
Hot, dry winds swept across the Valley of Death, sending fine dust swirling through the air every time heavy boots struck the cracked, parched earth. The desolate valley rang with the harsh sound of steel clashing against steel, mixed with grunts, shouts, and heavy breathing.
One knight swung his sword hard toward her left side. Elowen stepped quickly back, but the sharp edge still grazed her cheek. A thin red line appeared, and a single drop of blood rolled slowly down her skin before falling and disappearing into the dust. Yet her expression remained completely unchanged—calm, unshaken, as if she had felt nothing at all. She paid it no mind; pain and small wounds were things she had long grown accustomed to. She reached out, seized another knight by his armour, lifted him easily, and hurled him straight into the path of two more who were rushing toward her.
"ARGH!"
All three collapsed in a heap, kicking up clouds of dirt. Even so, they refused to give up or retreat, despite exhaustion weighing heavy upon them. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat soaking their faces and necks, yet their resolve did not waver—not one of them stepped back.
Elowen moved swiftly, driving the heel of her boot hard into the ribs of a knight who tried to lunge at her from the side. He cried out in pain as the blow landed, sent flying several paces before rolling across the rough ground, agony clear in every line of his face.
Dozens fought against her alone, and still they could not overcome her. They were weary, their limbs heavy and slow, while Elowen stood as tall, steady, and composed as she had at the very start. Her breathing remained even and calm, her grip firm and unyielding, with no trace of fatigue or strain.
All the while, Alice watched from a short distance away, her jaw tight and teeth clenched. Her eyes never left Elowen for a single moment. The longer she observed, the more obvious it became: no matter how many men attacked, none of them were truly a match for the princess.
"STAND ASIDE, ALL OF YOU. LET ME FACE HER ALONE!"
Alice dismounted from her horse and walked slowly toward the centre of the battlefield. The knights immediately gave way, stepping back and creating a wide space between them. Some exhaled in relief, glad that someone stronger and more skilled was finally taking their place.
Elowen turned her gaze toward Alice, fully armoured and imposing. As Alice came to a halt before her, she let out a low, heavy breath, her eyes blazing with challenge.
"I will fight you myself, Princess Elowen."
Alice drew her sword. The polished steel caught the bright sunlight, gleaming sharply against the dull brown and grey of the valley floor.
"Of course," Elowen replied calmly.
Only then did Elowen slide her own sword free from its sheath. A murmur of shock rippled through the watching knights. Their eyes widened in disbelief; they could hardly believe they had been battling fiercely for so long without realising Elowen had never once even used her actual blade.
"Are they truly so weak that you did not even think it worth drawing your weapon?" Alice asked, her voice sharp and mocking.
"Not at all," Elowen answered steadily. "I simply did not wish for my sword to be stained with blood. That is why I kept it sheathed until now."
Alice offered no reply. With a sudden burst of speed, she lunged straight at Elowen, her sword swinging fast and true. Her movements were sharp, precise, and filled with lethal intent.
Elowen met her strike instantly, her blade clashing hard against Alice's. Bright sparks flew into the air. For a long moment, the two women were locked in close combat, swords meeting again and again in a rapid, deafening rhythm.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The sound of ringing steel echoed across the entire valley. Sparks flashed with every impact. Both held their weapons with iron strength, neither giving an inch, neither showing any weakness or hesitation. Neither stepped back; neither lowered their guard.
"Elowen… where is your dragon?" Alice demanded between blows.
"He is otherwise occupied at this moment," Elowen replied coolly, parrying another heavy strike.
"Why did you not bring him here to the battlefield?"
"I told you—he is busy. Besides, I was fully confident I could defeat all of you on my own. And even if I were to lose, he would never come to my aid or fight my battles for me."
"I came here only to face your dragon," Alice hissed.
"Why? Why is it him you want, when I am standing right before you ready to fight?" Elowen countered.
"Because I know I can defeat him. And once he falls, your younger sister Celestia will be the undisputed and only rightful ruler of this land."
"You are so very certain, aren't you, Alice? But my dragon is immensely powerful, far stronger than you can imagine."
Alice said nothing, but her eyes narrowed into slits. She swung her sword fiercely toward Elowen's ribs, but Elowen twisted away with effortless speed—agile, alert, and supremely skilled in every aspect of combat. The blade sliced only through empty air.
Elowen turned smoothly, putting a few paces of distance between them, yet her eyes remained fixed unblinkingly upon Alice.
Alice slowly began to retreat. Suddenly, thick, inky black smoke began to rise all around the gathered knights, seeping up from cracks in the dry earth as if it were alive and moving of its own will. Elowen frowned deeply as she watched it appear out of nowhere.
The knights stared at the strange smoke in utter confusion, their faces filled with unease. Instinctively, many of them took several steps backwards.
The wind swirled, carrying the heavy black mist across the battlefield. The already hot, dry air grew suddenly heavy, suffocating, and oppressive.
Elowen looked directly into Alice's eyes, her gaze sharp and searching, as if trying to uncover the dark secrets that had been hidden for so long.
"Alice… who exactly are you?"
Alice's lips curved into a slow, strange smile—one unlike any smile Elowen or anyone else had ever seen before. It was cold, knowing, and full of dark intent.
"That… is a secret."
Black smoke flooded the battlefield in an instant. Thick and heavy, it swirled and drifted like a living thing, wrapping around every knight and filling the whole area. Fine dust already hanging in the air mixed with this dark haze, turning the Valley of Death into a grim, shadowy, and ominous place where even daylight seemed to fade away.
The knights, who only moments before had been exhausted, breathless, and aching from fighting Elowen, suddenly changed completely. Fresh strength surged through their bodies. Their ragged breathing smoothed into a steady rhythm; every trace of fatigue vanished from their muscles. Their eyes turned entirely black, empty and unblinking, and they fixed their gazes sharply on Elowen with cold, relentless focus. They moved no longer like ordinary men, but like puppets guided by an invisible will.
"If you refuse to call your dragon here yourself, then I will make him come," Alice said, her voice calm and absolute—clearly she was the one controlling their every action.
The knights charged toward Elowen, moving faster and more aggressively than before. Their attacks came in rapid, unending waves, leaving her no moment to rest or breathe. Elowen had to defend herself with desperate speed, blocking strike after strike as they swarmed her like mindless, walking corpses.
One knight lunged straight for her chest with his sword. Elowen parried the blow hard, the loud clang of steel ringing out across the barren land. At the same time, another knight tried to ambush her from the side, taking her by surprise. She twisted her body instantly and raised her sword just in time to deflect the attack, yet the force was so strong she stumbled several steps backward.
Before she could recover, several more rushed at her together. One delivered a powerful kick that sent her crashing to the ground. Dust clung thickly to her white armour as she fell, but she gripped her sword even tighter and pushed herself upright in one swift motion, standing firm once again.
"Are you using dark magic to control them?" Elowen demanded, her voice sharp and clear.
"Of course I am, Elowen," Alice replied with a cold smile. "And what can you possibly do against all of this alone?"
Elowen refused to give up, even as the knights came at her again and again in a relentless storm of blades. The sharp whistle of swinging swords filled the air, and Alice watched with evident pleasure as Elowen struggled against impossible odds.
"Hey, dragon! Come here right now—or I will kill her!" Alice shouted into the empty sky, her voice ringing with cruel intent.
Elowen gritted her teeth in anger and determination. She drove her boot hard into the chest of one approaching knight, sending him staggering back. But there was no choice left—she finally had to draw blood. As she struck out, the dry brown earth began to stain red wherever her blade met flesh. Even so, she aimed carefully, never striking at vital spots or delivering wounds that would be fatal or difficult to heal. She only cut into their legs, and even then, she kept the injuries shallow.
The wounded knight fell to his knees, clutching his leg—but his face remained utterly blank, as if he felt no pain at all.
"Ah, at last—we have bloodshed," Alice mocked, sounding delighted.
Elowen clenched her jaw tighter still. The knights were moving faster now, their attacks almost too quick for her eyes to follow. She was only human, and she had limits. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, and her breathing grew heavy and ragged. Every time she lifted her sword, her arms felt heavier and more weary.
"Hah… hah…"
She gasped for air, her strength nearly spent—but still she fought on, determined to defeat Alice no matter the cost.
"Just give it up, Elowen," Alice called out, her tone taunting and sure of victory.
Elowen closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing in a long, steady breath to calm herself. When she opened them again, they were clear and fierce. She launched herself straight back into the fight, striking with every bit of power she had left. Alice only laughed softly as she watched.
"I want to see exactly how long you can keep this up," she said.
A sharp blade grazed the back of Elowen's hand, leaving a shallow cut. She was fortunate it had not sliced deeper, but bright red blood still began to trickle slowly down her skin. Despite the stinging pain, Elowen showed no fear or weakness in her expression.
Alice was enjoying every moment of it—until she suddenly froze, confused and alarmed. Tiny points of glowing light began drifting all around them, floating through the air like countless fireflies. More and more appeared, until the whole gloomy battlefield was softly illuminated by their gentle radiance.
"What is this?" Alice whispered, staring in disbelief.
As the lights swirled and spread, the thick black smoke began to fade away, dissolving bit by bit as if the brightness was washing it entirely from the land. Alice clutched her head, suddenly dizzy and unsteady as the dark magic lost its hold.
One by one, the knights fighting Elowen collapsed to the ground. Their swords slipped from their fingers and clattered onto the dry earth. The unnatural energy that had filled them vanished completely.
Elowen turned to face Alice, her eyes sharp and questioning.
"Elowen… do you possess some kind of power I do not know of?" Alice asked, trying desperately to stand her ground.
"I have no magic, Alice. You know that," Elowen replied firmly.
She began walking toward Alice, raising her sword ready to strike—but before she could reach her, Alice dissolved into thin mist. In only a few seconds, her form faded completely from sight, leaving nothing behind but fine mist drifting slowly away in the wind.
The knights slowly stood up and began walking away from Elowen. Their eyes had returned to normal, clear and human once again, and they moved as if waking slowly from a long, terrible dream. They did not look back, nor did they speak—they simply left the battlefield behind them.
Elowen watched them all depart in silence. She stood alone in the centre of the Valley of Death, still clutching her sword tightly, her breathing still uneven and heavy. The wind continued to sweep gently across the barren, cracked ground.
But the thought turning over and over in her mind was not about the battle or the knights. It was one question, clear and insistent:
Who… exactly was it that had banished the black smoke and saved me today?