The night grew late, and the silence of Ente Island weighed heavily upon him. Fitran walked slowly along the shoreline, his gaze fixed upon the dark expanse of the sea. "What does all this truly mean?" he murmured, his voice nearly drowned out by the whispering waves that lapped at the shore. "Surely, all our sacrifices have been for naught." The names of the fallen haunted his mind, and the ache of loss tore at his hopes, leaving them in shreds.

  In the deepening stillness, something began to gnaw at his ears. "Eh?" Fitran looked up, straining to catch the faint sound that wove through the air. It was not a prayer; the voice emanated from the depths of another age. "What is this?" he whispered as a muted laughter began to reverberate amidst the sighing winds, filling the air with a strange vibration. He felt the air as if it were being wrung out, as though something were siphoning light from the sky. As the stars began to extinguish, a dark spiral symbol appeared, whirling like a reminder of the darkness lurking behind the shadows.

  Suddenly, a figure cloaked in illusory mist approached swiftly. "Fitran!" Vaelora cried, her breath ragged, her face pale. "The spiral barrier... they’re attacking from within! We must act at once!" The gaze in her eyes reflected profound panic, mirroring the fear and anxiety creeping slowly into Fitran’s heart.

  "Are you certain?" Fitran looked at Vaelora, struggling to resist the onslaught of pessimistic thoughts that filled his mind. "If all of this is real... we do not have much time." His surprise surged within him, like a dark wave ready to crash.

  "We must act forthwith, or everything shall descend into ruin!" Vaelora regarded Fitran with a gaze full of resolve, even as dread shrouded their souls. There was a bond that bound them—an unbreakable link forged from memories of the past and fleeting hope. Fitran clasped Vaelora’s hand with fervor, offering the encouragement they both needed. "Come," he said firmly, "we shall face this challenge together."

  In the sudden silence shattered by the blaring alarm, Arthuria swiftly drew her Excalibur, her eyes gleaming sharply in the encroaching shadows. “Zephyra, awaken all the commanders!” she shouted with unwavering resolve, her spirit aflame. “We have no time for debate!” Zephyra, already poised with a calculated plan, nodded hastily. “I shall summon them, but we must consider our next move with wisdom.”

  Meanwhile, Robin and Lysandra hurried towards the coastal woods, tension shrouding their hearts. “Do you feel it too?” Lysandra whispered, her voice trembling yet filled with fervor. “Something lurks in the darkness, and we cannot simply remain idle.”

  Marduk emerged from the laboratory, an elixir glimmering in her hand, sparkling in the dim light. “What is happening?” she inquired, her tone laced with suspicion, scrutinizing their faces one by one. “We must prepare for whatever may come.”

  Irithya, her face pale, pointed towards the soldiers standing rigidly in formation. “There is an infiltrator among us,” she uttered, her voice quivering, “I sense the power of Chaos magic. Yet… there lies something older still—the Forgotten Name enchantment.”

  Amidst the chaos, Sevia emerged swiftly, her stride resolute. “Wait!” she cried, her voice calm yet laden with a profound tension. “You are facing a fate far worse than you could ever imagine. We must unite, not turn against one another.”

  She broke through the barricade with a piercing gaze that pierced the darkness. “These names... they are not worthy to live,” Sevia murmured, her darker side beginning to surface. “Tonight, the spiral world shall remember the treachery that occurs for the first time.”

  Suddenly, dozens of soldiers, stained with Sevia's blood, began to transform. Their bodies swelled, spiraling glyphs crawling across their skin. A horrible scream shattered the stillness of the night. “What has happened to them?!” shouted one of the soldiers, his voice shaking with panic. “They—they are becoming something far worse!”

  Arthuria surveyed the surroundings, her eyes flicking from one shocked face to another. “Formation two! Do not let them approach!” She lifted her bow, spotting a warrior fallen beside her. “Fire arrows—aim for the ground! Do not give them space to move!”

  Lysandra gripped her bow tightly, feeling her heart race with tension. “Arthuria, I can sense the magic! This is no ordinary sorcery!” She cast a glance at Robin, who stood ready beside her. “We must act quickly, or we shall all soon join them!”

  Robin nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I know, I know! Yet we cannot confront this army alone. Zephyra! Aid us!”

  In an instant, Zephyra raised her hands to the sky, dark clouds beginning to gather. “I summon the storm of protection! Do not let conventional magic hinder our stride!” Her voice carried a grim hope. Yet, as the lightning surged, they realized that this power was still insufficient to halt the dread Name Eater.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Vaelora struggled to bolster the faltering illusion barrier. “I can hold them! But every incantation I utter rebounds upon me! As if this magic is tugged back by a darker force!”

  She grasped the jeweled circlet in her hand, her face etched with strain from her intense efforts. “We must not give up. We shall surely find a way to stop this!”

  The soldiers ensnared in darkness screamed, their voices echoing across the battlefield. The atmosphere felt oppressive and taut, yet behind all the chaos, a single hope still burned: to unite and resist the encroaching dark. It was not yet time to surrender.

  Fitran, grasping the Voidlight that glimmered in his hand, stepped forward with grim resolve. Yet, as he advanced, the darkness in his heart swelled ever greater. "This is no ordinary magic," he said hoarsely. "This magic… it is rooted in the very core of *Ente Island* itself."

  Sevia smiled, her grin concealing deep, dark secrets. "At last, you understand," she whispered, her eyes shining with a menacing glee. "The name long forbidden, the one you must utter."

  "Sevia, cease!" Fitran cried out, but his voice became ensnared, trapped in the clutching talons of profound darkness. "You know the consequences!"

  "Elyrath. The First Forgotten," Sevia uttered that name softly, like a haunting melody poised to herald the end of all things.

  Suddenly, a wave of dreadful energy struck the island, shattering the silence of the tense night. Dozens of soldiers crumpled to the ground, their bodies sprawling without sound, shadows that faded from the world's memory. As if they had never existed.

  Rinoa, who struggled to protect the other healers, stood frozen. The memories of her bright childhood felt like the morning dew slowly evaporating. “Where have they gone?” she whispered, her voice trembling, dread creeping into each word. “Why do I feel this way?”

  Fitran began to sway, sensing the world around him spinning chaotically. He gazed at Sevia—or Elyrath, more precisely—uncertainty gathering in his eyes like a threatening storm. “This is all madness,” he murmured, attempting to resist the dark whispers that sought to invade his thoughts.

  “I do not wish for this,” his voice nearly broke, “Can you fathom all that has been lost?”

  “Lost, indeed. Yet this presence grants us strength, Fitran,” Sevia replied firmly, as if daring the darkness itself. “We can alter the course of history.”

  “Fitran!” Arthuria’s voice shattered the silence, cutting through the chaos that enveloped them. “Listen to me! Do not let those whispers possess you! Quickly, prepare the protective incantation!” She turned to Zephyra, hope shining in her gaze. “Aid me, now!”

  Fitran stood silent, choked by the failure of the spell that burdened his mind, as he alone now merged with the waning power of Voidlight, turning to a deep black. “I have no choice,” he murmured softly, driving his sword into the ground with resolve. Spirals of light shimmered upon the surface, forming a shield that protected the command tent, fighting with all its might to maintain their presence amidst the encroaching ruin.

  Elyrath materialized before them, his laughter echoing as he lifted himself into the sky. All his forms began to fade, vanishing into the semblance of the human he once possessed. “How laughable,” he said with a sarcastic tone, “You still believe you can build something atop the ruins left behind. It is time I reclaim all that rightfully belongs to me.”

  Marduk immediately sprang into action, a shimmering soulbinding elixir in her hand. “Listen closely! This is no ordinary potion. Whoever wields this must keep their name intact—or all that you cherish shall vanish!” The precious liquid soared forth as it was sprayed into the air, forming a luminous circle among the heroines.

  Nobuzan, alongside the Samurai, raised their voices, chanting the ancestral incantation that stirred memories almost forgotten. The drums thudded, dispelling the anguish and emptiness that threatened to erase all.

  Rinoa stepped closer to Fitran, even as her memories teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Fitran…” Her face was gentle yet suffused with concern, “Please… do not let me… vanish into nothingness…”

  Fitran gazed upon his companions, his heart roaring as his eyes locked onto Elyrath. “If all must shatter to restore what has been lost, then I shall become the final guardian,” Fitran's voice was firm with conviction, “I swear… though this world seeks to erase every memory, I shall never forget.”

  In the turmoil that engulfed them, the command tent on Ente Island had transformed into an arena of existential combat.

  “This is more than just a battle between victory and defeat,” Elyrath declared, her voice steady though slightly trembling, “It is about who shall be remembered when all endeavors to forget.”

  Meanwhile, the spiral soldiers appeared uncertain—names seemed to fade from existence, their tales and wounds vanishing without a trace.

  A chill from the darkness enveloped them, threatening to shroud all that had ever existed in endless shadows.

  Arthuria gazed upon Excalibur with shining eyes, “We beg your pardon… for this world.” Her voice faltered momentarily, emphasizing her despair, “This world cannot hold all the names that ought to be carved into history.” Her expression seeped with sorrow, as though fully aware of the fragility of the remaining hope.

  “We are still here, Arthuria,” whispered Lysandra, gripping her friend’s hand firmly. “We must not allow them to vanish so easily. Remember these names with me.”

  Robin, standing beside them, added with conviction, “Aye, we must continue to fight. Marduk, Irithya, Vaelora, Rinoa… each of these names is more than mere words. They are a part of us.” Every name was uttered with profound tension, affirming the unbreakable bond between them.

  Fitran, amidst the chaos, directed his gaze toward Elyrath. His words emerged with steadfastness and courage, “My name is Fitran Fate. The sun shall not set without our voices. Your name is Elyrath, and on this night, not a single name shall fade without a battle that shakes the heavens.” His countenance bore resoluteness, even as dark shadows roamed about him.