Realm Lord

Arthur was running as fast as he could, which to his surprise was actually really fast. The midnight air whipped past his face as his boots pounded against the strange, rose-covered terrain. Each stride carried him further than should have been physically possible.

He knew all Chosen received basic physical enhancements whenever their realm core formed and every time it ranked up, but this felt different. This was speed beyond what those enhancements should provide. His best guess was it had something to do with the night itself—he'd felt much stronger and faster during his previous nighttime fight than he had during daylight hours. Some kind of nocturnal affinity, perhaps?

But he had no time to ponder this mystery. He may be fast, but the Nightreaves flying through the star-studded sky were faster, gaining on him with each passing second. Their dark silhouettes blotted out the stars above as they dove toward him, wings extended like blades of darkness.

Arthur stopped looking back, scared it would slow him down even by a fraction of a second—and in this moment, such hesitation could cost him his life. Instead, he sprinted with all his might, forced to sense the Nightreaves getting closer through his dark sense.

'No, no, no, I don't wanna die,' his mind raced frantically. 'Not like this, not after everything was starting to finally look up.'

Arthur's face contorted with fear and regret as he ran, whimpering with exhaustion with every step. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed for rest, but he pushed onward. He felt the Nightreaves about to reach his back and closed his eyes tightly while running, bracing himself for the inevitable tearing of flesh and sinew.

He felt them get closer... and closer... and then... further?

The air pressure suddenly shifted. Confused, Arthur let his eyes shoot open and was immediately blinded by the looming sun shining just over the horizon, bathing the field of blood-red roses in golden light.

'It's morning?'