The River of Echoes gleamed under the moonlight, its currents winding through the jungle like a living vein of silver. On its northern bank, the remnants of the Serpent King’s forces gathered, their tattered banners fluttering in the night breeze. Their leaders, divided between those who sought vengeance and those who sought survival, argued in hushed voices around dim fires. They thought they had time. They thought they had the advantage.

  They were wrong.

  Selene stood on a ridge overlooking the camp, flanked by the Fae Lord of Tides and the Fae Lord of Tempests. Below them, hidden in the thick foliage, their forces waited in silence—tide guardians, storm elementals, and a host of fae creatures adapted for night warfare.

  Tides turned to her, their tranquil presence belying the coming storm. “The river is ours to command. We can flood them out or sweep them away in silence.”

  Tempests smirked, sparks dancing at their fingertips. “Or we can strike hard and fast—shatter them before they know what’s happening.”

  Selene’s gaze remained fixed on the enemy camp. “We’ll do both.”

  ---

  The first phase was silent.

  Tides extended their hand, and the river responded, its surface rippling unnaturally before creeping up the banks in long, grasping tendrils. Water elementals slithered into the camp, their fluid forms coiling around supply wagons, sabotaging weapons, and unsettling the restless soldiers. No alarms were raised—just whispers of unease among the troops.

  Then came the mist.

  Echoes’ shadow murmurs drifted between the tents, whispering false orders, conjuring phantom figures in the darkness. Some soldiers panicked, believing an ambush had already begun. Others dismissed it as paranoia, their discontent with their fractured leadership growing.

  And then the storm hit.

  ---

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Tempests lifted their arms, and the sky answered with a deafening roar. Lightning split the darkness, striking the center of the camp with explosive force. Thunder followed, rolling across the jungle like a drum of war. The winds surged, tearing through tents, sending soldiers sprawling.

  The real attack began.

  Frost wolves and tide guardians poured in from the river’s edge, cutting down disoriented foes before they could regroup. Storm elementals struck with electrified claws, while Echoes’ illusions turned the battlefield into a maze of confusion.

  Selene descended into the chaos, her presence like a cold inevitability.

  A group of warriors rushed toward her, their expressions a mix of fear and desperation. She didn’t move. She simply lifted a hand, and the concept of Balance took hold.

  One warrior’s blade swung toward her—but before it could reach her, his own momentum reversed, sending him hurtling backward with equal force. Another soldier’s spear splintered in midair as the very energy of his strike rebounded against him.

  For every attack, a reaction. For every force, its counter.

  Selene moved through the battlefield like a storm in her own right, untouched, unchallenged. Her Fae Lords wove destruction around her, but none of them came close to the absolute precision of her power. The soldiers saw it too. Their strikes meant nothing. Their weapons turned against them. Fear overtook them faster than any sword.

  And then, the inevitable happened. They broke.

  ---

  It was over in minutes. The survivors fled into the jungle, their banners left trampled in the mud. The few leaders that remained fell to their knees as Selene approached, their faces drawn in defeat.

  She stopped before them, her expression unreadable. “Your war is over.”

  One of the leaders, a scarred man with venom-green tattoos, clenched his fists. “You… you’re no queen. You’re a monster.”

  Selene tilted her head, considering his words. “Balance is not kind,” she said simply. “You disrupted it. And now, you answer for it.”

  The man spat at her feet. “Then kill us and be done with it.”

  Selene regarded him coolly before turning away. “No. You will live. You will take the remnants of your people and go south, beyond my borders. You will spread my name, and you will tell the others what happens when they defy the Queen of Balance.”

  The surviving warriors hesitated, then bowed in submission before scrambling to obey.

  Tempests smirked as they watched them go. “Mercy? That’s new.”

  Selene glanced at them. “It’s not mercy. It’s control.”

  Tides nodded approvingly. “A ruler who destroys everything leaves nothing to rule.”

  Selene didn’t answer. She simply turned back toward the river, where the waters had already begun to settle, washing away the last traces of battle.

  Her web had expanded again. The remnants of the Serpent King were no longer a threat. But she knew better than to believe in peace.

  There was always another storm on the horizon.

  And she would be ready.