The Petal Knights had sworn their wings to the old fairy queens, and though many had withered into legend, a handful remained. They emerged now—ancient, graceful, fierce.
Their armor bloomed with living flowers. Their swords sang with pollen-magic.
They flew in spiral formations, creating shields of wind and scent, breaking through Umbrael's airborne legions.
Lucky watched from below, tears in her eyes. These warriors had waited lifetimes to die for a cause they believed in.
They didn't die in vain.
They became myth again.