He couldn't take his eyes off the girl.
There was the corpse of a boy lying close by, but, even so, it was she who attracted the eye. That was because he had a daughter about her age. They didn't look anything alike, apart from that, but it wasn't too hard to imagine his daughter on the ground, covered in blood, in his place.
It was selfish. It was hypocritical. In any case, his body didn't respond to his commands.
Even though he had come here with orders to indiscriminately kill men, women and children. Even though he was a soldier, and this was his job.
To get blood on his hands for the greater good.
Yes, for a just cause. For the good of all... except those who would be dead. Looking into the girl's eyes, misty, glass-like, he found it hard to believe that any of this could bring a better future.
His hands were shaking. Not enough to make the rifle he held slip through his fingers, but close.
How ridiculous. He was only twenty-five, but he'd killed more people than he could count. More than he could even remember. And now he was busy navel-gazing. Shivering like a baby in the middle of enemy territory, where at any moment people with inhuman powers could attack them.
Smash his head in, tear out his heart, every limb, one by one, that and a thousand other possibilities.
And that's just counting the simple, straightforward ones. The ones they could replicate using technology. People of Albion could kill in more esoteric ways and deal out fates worse than death just like that, like the monsters they were.
That was definitely not wrong. They had started a war and despised them, for they were people touched by the divine and they were mere mortals.
Therefore, the natural thing to do was to strike back at them, he couldn't blame his government for making the decision. This was necessary. Even if he didn't have the stomach for it, someone would have to take his place, and that would be good.
And yet... What?
His trembling wouldn't stop. His frozen body was unable to get going again.
Regardless of facts, regardless of logic, regardless of what he was aware of, this was reality carved in stone.
He felt a hand on his back.
He turned around abruptly, raising the rifle, putting his finger on the trigger.
He was about to pull it and unload a hail of bullets on one of his comrades, who had appeared out of nowhere. He felt like a child whose mother had caught him doing something foolish.
"What are you standing here for?" the man muttered to him.
He didn't know his name. In fact, he didn't know half the men he had come to raid the academy with. Not by sight, not personally.
He opened his mouth, searching for an answer. Finding none, he closed it without a word.
He had a better question.
How long had he been standing here, brooding? Being consumed by a sense of guilt that made no sense? In any case, he hadn't found an answer so far, so he wouldn't do it no matter how hard this man pressed him.
No matter how much he longed to explain himself, to justify himself. To himself? Just to himself, really?
Grimacing, he looked away.
"Enough," he answered simply. It was the only thing he could say while being a hundred percent sure he was being sincere.
"Well, come on. We've got work to do. "
Work. What a word to use for something like this.
He looked around, this time his eyes passed over the corpses, focused on the bloodstains everywhere.
His mind focused on the silence of the forest.
Silence, even though a battle was raging. It was absurd, but he had the feeling that the darkness of this forest was judging him.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to stay here?"
"Do you think this is right?" he asked, unable to resist.
His companion looked surprised. But only for a moment.
"Those are very dangerous words. "
I know that better than anyone.
"They are words that will not fall on anyone's ears. The only ones who are with us at this time are the dead. Besides, I didn't ask you what the others would think if they heard you. I asked you what you think of this. "
There was a long silence.
"What do you want to hear? "
Answering a question with a question. Such bad taste.
"The truth! Nothing more and nothing less than the truth. "
He put a trembling hand to his face, covering it. He demanded the truth, but he couldn't face himself, let alone the truth he supposedly wanted so badly.
"Do you want the truth? Okay, the truth is you're a bad joke. Are you feeling guilty precisely now? This isn't a special moment, kid. Kids aren't dying because we attacked an academy. War brings death. And worse things than death. And the children don't escape it, no, no, quite the contrary. They are the ones who suffer the most. Do you understand? Even when they escape death, which may be the most likely thing, there is nothing but a life of suffering awaiting them as they watch everything and everyone they love fall and die.
And we are the bastards who create for them that hell on earth. If you didn't understand this truth from the beginning or can't stand it now, you shouldn't have become a soldier in the first place. But, anyway, I'm not going to leave you here. Let's stop wasting time. "
"I have a suicide pill, like everyone else. " He moved his hand slowly down his face, as if groping for something, then dropped it. You don't have to worry about me getting caught.
"It's not about that, you idiot. "
He grabbed her hand and tugged on it. Forcing him to look at him, whether he wanted to or not.
"Then what? "
"We're soldiers. We're family. "
He looked him in the eye for the first time since the conversation had begun.
"How do you stand it? "
"... I don't remember why I stepped forward. I don't remember why I enlisted even though anyone, literally anyone, could have been a replacement for me. I'm not someone special. So, in the lowest moments, what I do is remember my family. "
"What about right and wrong? "
With every word out of his mouth, he felt more and more like a lost child.
His partner, no, his brother smiled sadly.
"I don't remember any of that either. "
■
Desmond stopped his run abruptly. He arched his back like a bow. He had had an ominous feeling that proved to be true shortly afterwards. But well, he hadn't hesitated for a moment. His instincts had never led him astray.
Now it was no different. He was like a hunting dog, he never missed.
That special sense of smell he possessed would allow him to ambush a group that was undoubtedly made up of Azure Empire soldiers, advancing along the path, rather than them ambushing him. He was confident that he could withstand more than a few shots before he fell, regardless of the weapon they used against him.
However, he could not afford to go from confidence to arrogance.
This might be the woods of the Four Seasons Academy, but he and all the prospective students, as well as the teaching staff, were in enemy territory. Not the other way around.
They had come out of nowhere and, as quickly as they had appeared, it could be said that they had already taken control of the academy grounds.
That was a most unpleasant thought that fed his bloodlust.
As if he needed it.
That thirst would never be quenched.
He ran after the soldiers as they passed, sword in one hand and pistol in the other, and stopped again. This time not of his own volition. A circle of energy rose from the ground, trapping him with the soldiers, warning them of his presence indirectly.
He noticed that not with all the soldiers. One half had been left out.
It didn't matter.
This was a magic circle that could keep people in, no doubt it would also serve against magical attacks, but bullets would pass through the wall of energy as if there was nothing there.
If there was an advantage to this, it was that it was a narrow space. In other words, the soldiers could end up shooting their own if they were careless.
"A pistol," said one of the soldiers, seconds before the bullets fired from his side of the field, together, as a single entity, drowned out his voice raised in surprise.
Even they were surprised that he was using the weapon of the enemy. This was no time to think about things like that. This was a life and death situation.
But it was irritating, he had to admit.
Wherever he went, it was always the same thing.
He went on the attack. He vaguely noticed that, contrary to expectations, the bullets fired by the part of the group that had been left out bounced off the energy wall instead of going through it.
That didn't change that he was in a bind, every advantage he could think of about fighting in this tight space was also a disadvantage.
But it was something.
Considering he'd been running through the forest for ten minutes, that he was alone in enemy territory, the situation once things inevitably went awry could have been far worse than this.
He stepped into their midst, swinging his sword wildly, firing his pistol without hesitation.
For he had no reason to hesitate, unlike his enemies. He had no need to fear shooting one of his comrades accidentally, for he fought alone.
Some would say that this advantage was not at the same time a disadvantage. But, as he had expected, whether it was because those of the Empire were heartless monsters or because of fear, pure and simple, they fired despite the high risk of killing each other as soon as they made the slightest mistake.
A risk, well, more like inevitable. As it soon became clear.
As good as they were, a stray bullet ended up in the neck of one of the soldiers, who collapsed with his hands around his neck, futilely trying to stop a cascade of blood.
One of them lost his composure. With a face as white as chalk, he looked at him.
And that was the last thing he saw. His companion writhing on the ground, albeit rather weakly, from involuntary spasms, for that was the only strength he had left after the bullet had torn through his neck.
The image wasn't burned into the dead man's vision because he killed him by severing his head not from the neck, but with a diagonal cut above the nose. The eyes ended up in pieces too, as well as his skull.
Soon he had dispatched all the others as well, littering the ground with blood and body parts.
More often than not, not whole ones.
While the enemy soldiers waiting outside could do nothing but watch the horrible spectacle, helpless. They had come here to carry out a slaughter and now they dared to look at him as if he were a demon out of hell, stained with blood and guts.
This is only natural, he thought, twirling his sword from which blood flowed like water. This is what you deserve.
An echo of a thought that had crossed his mind not so long ago. Or perhaps he had spoken it aloud? In any case, of course it was an idea that recurred in his thoughts. It was the only emotion he reserved for those animals, after all.
Well, not really, but he didn't have time to waste in giving them what they richly deserved. That would be for the soldiers left alive after the attack. And their treatment would be out of his hands.
Even though he had already killed all the soldiers left inside, the barrier created by the magic circle still stood, trapping him within.
This would be the moment to start worrying that he was really trapped, that he would have to wait for one of his people to find him and get him out of here, unable to do anything. What would be a dream situation for any of the aspirants involved in this madness was terrifying for him.
Just the thought of it made his stomach turn, threatening to spill back its contents.
To stay safe while others fought and died... Never! Not even one more time!
But fortunately, he didn't have to worry about such a terrible thing happening. This magic circle was undoubtedly one of the surprises awaiting them that the teacher had spoken of before sending them into the forest.
An area that would trap anyone who passed through, forcing them to fight if they wanted to get out.
To avoid getting hit, if they didn't want it to end in mutual elimination in the worst-case scenario. It was a good way to complicate what would otherwise have been an obstacle course. Devilish, but an obstacle course nonetheless.
That alone couldn't prove that they were worthy of studying at the academy.
So the barrier would disappear at any second. And when it did, he would be ready.
To continue the slaughter.
Because, even though the soldiers didn't seem sure of their chances, they hadn't run away with their tails between their legs either.
The barrier fell.
Desmond rushed at them quickly, as quickly as if he had managed to anticipate the right moment. But that didn't save him from being shot. The soldiers corrected their aim and one of them hit him in the knee.
However, he didn't let that stop him.
Desmond kept running. And, taking advantage of the momentum of his movement, he delivered a blow with all his might. The sword cleaved in half the enemy that was, no, that a moment ago had been in front of him. Now he was just two lumps of flesh, side by side, and more patches of red to sully the quiet beauty of the forest.
Before the sword completed the arc of its movement, he fired three times, exhausting the bullets in the chamber.
Uselessly.
There was room for up to eight bullets, and so far, he had hit every shot. But now not a single one hit the target, like some kind of karma.
Anyway, the gun might be worn out, but that didn't mean it was useless as a weapon.
It was still heavy, hard.
Desmond threw the pistol as if it were a projectile itself.
The remaining soldiers had dodged all three bullets, whether by luck, skill or a mixture of the two. This time, however, it was not enough, no matter why. The gun hit one of them square in the face, knocking him off balance.
Giving him enough time to grab the soldier closest to him, put an arm around him and turn him around. Thus, he had access to the gun he was carrying, which could fire many more than eight bullets at a time, for it was no mere pistol.
Placing his hands over those of the enemy holding the rifle, he opened fire, killing his comrades.
Then he dropped what would soon be a bullet-riddled corpse, yet another he hadn't had to kill.
He walked away. Listening to him drown in his own blood.
He wasn't the kind of madman who would stop to listen to such a thing with a smile on his face, whether it was happening to one of his sworn enemies or not.
But... it wasn't an unpleasant sound. He had to admit that.
■
"Follow me if you want to live," Amy said inexpressively, turning around to start back towards the academy. Fighting was fine, but she didn't intend to risk her life to the fullest, trying to exterminate all hostiles.
Her goal was to get back to the academy safely. While she wouldn't abandon anyone she met along the way, she also had no intention of getting into unnecessary trouble.
The teachers would handle this, until the reinforcements arrived... If they weren't all dead by then.
In any case, it was not her responsibility.
This wasn't a situation she could solve on her own, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed. She was a soldier in an army, not the army itself.
She would do what was asked of her. No more, no less.
Which was hard enough as it was. She didn't look back, but, from the sound of footsteps, when she left, everyone followed her. They had seen her strength. They trusted... No, rather, they wanted to trust her, because they were in too terrible a situation.
In the worst of times, most people didn't rely on their own strength, but chose to cling to something or someone.
That was how sects began. It was the basis of all cults, of many other things.
She wasn't stronger than anyone else.
If she could, she would blindly trust someone else to bail her out, even if they had given her no real reason to do so. Faith consisted of facts over-seasoned with speculation, after all.
Amy worried that they would be a hindrance.
The idea of having to choose between them and her own survival, running away, leaving them behind. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. Not because she feared she wouldn't be able to make the "right choice", but because she knew exactly what she would do.
If it was really necessary, if there was no other way out, she would abandon them to their fate without a second thought.
She didn't want to abandon anyone.
She didn't want to hurt anyone.
But to die for the sake of someone else? That was completely unacceptable. She had promised herself that she would live only for herself from now on, and that's what she intended to do.
Because going far for someone else's sake, or just to do the 'right' thing, never ended well.
You had to have... priorities.
Amy was clear about what her priorities were.
"As you saw a moment ago, my affinity is ice control," she began to explain to those behind her, without stopping, without turning around to look at them, and whispering, trusting that they would keep up with her and therefore be close enough to hear her well. "It is useful in a fight, but also to escape from them. To slow down the enemy, disorient them, block their way. That's how we'll get back to the academy safely. Any questions?"
There was only silence in response. And the rustling of leaves, all around.
"Well, I do have one. Do any of you have a more suitable magic for what I said? To give me a hand, if nothing else? Speak."
They didn't speak.
Because they had nothing to say? If that's what they thought, they were idiots. Yes or no. It was as simple as that. Silence was no substitute for no. Or were they afraid of her? Well, this time she hadn't bothered to burn energy to get the blood off of her.
So she supposed she wasn't very pleasant to look at, but no, she preferred to think that wasn't the reason.
After all, like her, they would have had to see a lot of mutilated, blood-soaked corpses before they got here.
Of the enemy and others like them.
It would be stupid if seeing the person who had saved them stained from head to toe with blood was what made them hesitate.
"I... I can create clones of myself," one said at last, hesitantly. "They can't get too far away from me, though. And a few other small things."
"Weaknesses of the clones?"
"Uh, no. Other things that might be useful for avoiding soldiers. But I'm not very good, and... Forget it."
Amy rolled her eyes.
Maybe she wasn't very good compared to the other candidates. But he hadn't gotten this far by chance. Talent, hard work, like Desmond supposedly, or a combination of the two.
But he should have some self-confidence.
The nature of the life-and-death situation they were in might have changed, but what had gone before had been a life-and-death situation too.
They were all strange. Or was she the strange one?
Maybe her way of seeing things was twisted. Maybe she was the one who was wrong.
The forest was silent. The continuously triggered traps had filled it with violent sounds, shocks, explosions, falling trees, screams. But, now that they were at war, it was silent as death.
For, rather than the battle of a war, this was a massacre being cultivated.
The Empire's soldiers were chasing the students, unwilling to leave anyone alive, but they had to find them first. They didn't know where they were magically, so you would only hear noises if you were close enough when two groups met and the inevitable fight broke out.
Which, inevitably, didn't last long, like the previous ones she'd been in.
She had fought twice. But the rest of the time she had only encountered blood and corpses, the aftermath of a battle, not a battle itself.
And she had had, like now, the terrible impression that she was the only thing alive in this silent forest.
Until it broke.
The time had come for it to break, now too.
Amy threw herself to the ground, not spending oxygen or time to warn her companions in danger. Not because she had made up her mind which of the two was more important. But simply because she hadn't realized it in time.
Used to fighting alone, she had acted as if she were truly alone.
Fortunately, they followed her example, not wasting their time with questions. Or staring at her like fools, wondering what she was doing.
Still, the bullets that shot out of the undergrowth claimed the life of one of them.
No.
He wasn't dead, and she should be able to heal him. He had the same wound she had suffered; a bullet had gone through his throat; it hadn't been that long since she had healed herself and she could talk properly. More or less.
Her voice sounded strange, with a thin, high-pitched tone that didn't suit her at all, but she could communicate properly. That was what counted.
The soldiers were firing from the undergrowth, out of sight, of course.
Amy picked up the fallen boy and dragged him behind some trees as he writhed, alternately gasping and spitting blood. His chattering teeth were turning red.
Humans weren't born equal. But they died the same way. To the point that seeing him like this gave her a powerful feeling of deja vu.
The barrage of bullets stopped. Briefly.
They were in enemy territory, but they were firing fearlessly, as if they couldn't run out of bullets. She assumed it was because they intended to do this quickly. Otherwise, after all, they would be trapped by reinforcements and forced to fight a war of attrition that they would inevitably lose, here, far from home.
Assuming the headmaster or one of the teachers had sent a warning, calling for reinforcements, even the closest ones would still take an hour to arrive.
They would only be police, however, forces that couldn't turn the tide of battle.
The nearest military base was, if she remembered correctly, not much further away, however. She doubted very much that the Azure Empire would have more than an hour and a half to escape, before they felt the full might of Albion's forces upon them again.
And then the small force would be crushed without mercy. It had to be small, for them to have positioned themselves stealthily within the grounds of the academy.
Even so, she found it hard to believe that they had succeeded, to be frank.
Even if they couldn't quite accomplish either objective, it would be great for the enemy empire. A morale boost, proof that they could do this, having escaped the last war with their tails between their legs.
She should concentrate on the battle that was going on in front of her eyes, while she tried to heal the wounded boy.
But she couldn't help thinking why they had done such a thing.
They hadn't attacked the eponymous capital, the heart of the kingdom of Albion. However well defended it was, even if the teachers were some of the best mages in the entire kingdom, attacking The Four Seasons wasn't certain death.
Still, it was close enough. Yes, it was almost, almost inevitable that the Azure Empire's squadrons would be exterminated like rats.
What if they didn't intend to survive the attack? What if this was some sort of suicidal move?
It would explain the recklessness they had shown, attacking the academy with a number of soldiers small enough to mount a surprise attack. They hadn't even brought with them the great equalizer, one of those twisted mechanical spiders with blue fire for a heart.
A bullet passed millimeters from her face, sinking into the trunk of the tree they were both hiding behind, bursting the bubble in which her thoughts had enveloped her.
She was a soldier, Amy reminded herself.
She didn't have to worry about the why of the present battle, or about what would happen next, the ulterior motives, the objectives. She only had to worry about what was next: surviving to fight another day. Which was enough.
Amy moved forward, joining the others, leaving the boy there on the ground. She had healed him.
She had done everything she could.
If he couldn't take care of himself, that would be his fault, not hers for 'abandoning' him.
Besides, she wasn't going to be away for long. She intended to end the fight they had started by getting the hell out of there, as she had explained from the beginning. For that purpose, she created a wide wall of ice between her group and the soldiers, who had been forced out by the magical attacks.
There was fire spreading through the forest. It had already felled one tree and was now consuming another.
If left alone, it would soon become a forest fire, as problematic for them as it was for their enemies, in short order. Some would say she hadn't made the right decision, but she took a moment to stop it from going any further.
"Come on. Run! Run!"
A soldier tried to go around the barrier. In response, she extended it a good bit further.
That way they wouldn't get out.
If they tried, whichever way they tried, she would extend it as far as she had to.She was capable of doing it. It wasn't practical, she'd dry out quickly if she kept it up, but... it wasn't like she had much of a choice.
Still, it was only a matter of time before the ice barrier was knocked down. It had been created by magic - it was nothing more than ice, after all. To do so, however, they would have to expend more than one magazine, all of them.
With their supplies limited, they would have to decide if it was really worth going after them.
And they would decide it wasn't.
Amy hoped.
Once they got away from this one, they'd do better. And they didn't have long to go before they reached the academy. Amy could see the nearest tower, the Winter Tower, ironically, above the tree line.
With any luck, they'd reach there in no time, all of them.
Safe. As long as they got out of the forest, they would be safe.
They ran out. One of them, to their surprise, went over to the injured boy still lying on the ground, helped him up and, letting him lean on him, they ran together. Behind the others, but together.
Was it foolish to be surprised by something similar to what she had done not so long ago?
It could be, but she couldn't help it. To see someone risk his life for a stranger in a situation like this? She was a deeply cynical person, so it wasn't something to be taken lightly.
And it was only similar. Not identical. She had done the minimum, what anyone would have done.
This person, however, had gone above and beyond.
She hoped he wouldn't pay for it with a bullet through the back of the head.
Knowing what the world was like, that was most likely.
Amy reinforced the ice wall one last time, then turned on her heels and ran.
And they ended up in the middle of several dozen soldiers, as if they had been waiting for them.
So suddenly, without her noticing.
She hadn't even had time to rejoice at having lost the previous group.
This was not a battle she could win. Or maybe it was, but it was too risky, in any case. Amy made her decision..., no, she took the decision she had made before the beginning coldly.
In other words, she ran into the trees. There were so many soldiers that there was no real gap in the circle that the soldiers had accidentally created.
But she could create one!
She refused to die here.
Amy moved swiftly forward, sliding across the ice generated by her, and began to cover herself in a layer of ice as fast as possible. Without losing concentration or slowing down for a moment.
No person her age would be able to do something like that. She was a prodigy among prodigies. A true genius, without exaggeration.
Still, she didn't create a gap among the soldiers.
It wasn't enough to make her disappear into the trees, leaving the others to their fate.
Instead, as if in some sort of punishment, she was felled by bullets. One hit her in the leg, causing her to lose her balance, to fall pathetically to the ground. And several pierced her chest, filling it with pain.
Amy fell head first to the ground, on a carpet of her own blood, red and thick.
She was going to die here.
Executed like an animal, or worse, simply left to die. She had no idea of the extent of her injuries. Possibly she was already dead, she just didn't know it yet. She couldn't possibly be saved even if a healing mage suddenly took her away to work on her.
Blood.
Her mouth was filling with blood. Her teeth would be staining with red, just like that boy's. She couldn't see herself in a mirror or a puddle of water. She was grateful for that.
Amy didn't want the last thing she saw in the world to be something horrible like that.
She was talking as if she was already dead. As if her survival was not still up in the air. And she didn't want to give up just like that, of course.
She wasn't one to throw in the towel.
But well, it was quite obvious. Her body wasn't responding to her. She was writhing on her own, like a worm, just like last time. Yes, she had escaped death only to face another miserable death lying on the ground, eating dust.
Worst of all, this didn't seem like something she could have avoided.
Amy would find no peace in telling herself that this was an inevitable fate. But, of course, to say to herself that, if she had been more careful, that if she had gone the other way, leaving those useless fools behind in the first place, as she had thought, especially if she was going to do it in the end anyway...
That wouldn't give her peace either.
The only peace that awaits me is death.
The sound of gunfire filled the air. And so did the sound of screaming.
The group she had dragged here would die without knowing she had planned to abandon them. Believing she had gone on the attack, instead. As consolation, it was really poor. They would all end up dead anyway.
What they did in her last moments, what they thought, about them, about her... all that was unimportant.
Dead is dead, she told herself.
Death is death, yes, and this one would be worse than the first time. Her condition was so bad that she couldn't even turn around and look at the sky. All she could do was lie there, waiting for death.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Of despair, but mostly of rage.
If she was going to die anyway, she would have preferred to have died the first time. But that wasn't the source of her frustration, it was... the idea that her death should be meaningful. Most soldiers, no, people in general, experienced a meaningless death.
Without achieving anything worth mentioning, without changing anything.
One more body in the endless pit of corpses that war created.
Why did she think it would be different for her?
She was a special person, but even a special person, in the midst of war, was but a grain of sand in the desert. She had chosen this path, and the path had led her here.
It had been shorter even than she had feared, assuming as she had done from the beginning that she would pass the test without trouble, that it was not even something worth thinking about.
But she had lived as she had wanted to. By following her own decisions, with her head held high.
That was... That was enough, wasn't it?
Amy wondered as people died around her, struggling for breath.
Wasn't it?
"Another one, twelve o'clock!" That was the voice of one of the soldiers. A female soldier, like her.
Another one?
Ah, yes. Another one of her own had made an appearance. But what did it matter? One person, no matter how strong, no matter how skilled, couldn't make a difference against two dozen people.
She had experienced that crushing truth in the flesh. That was why she was now tasting her own blood.
Would she have any help, this person, or had everyone who had been with her already been killed? In any case, the person who had appeared would be no different.
That's what she thought firmly, instead of clinging to the faint thread of hope that existed.
And, as she thought, the air was filled with screams again.
Screams. From several people. Screams of horror. But those were not the only sounds that made the forest air vibrate. The sound of something heavy being dragged. The sound of gunshots. The sound of pounding against the ground, against wood. Wet creaks.
Amy couldn't see what the hell was going on around her at the moment. And, from those noises alone, she couldn't form a mental picture either.
Then, she heard the sound... of something being crushed.
And horrifying screams, voices such as she had never heard in her entire life. To the point that just hearing them made her shiver. If she could see what was making them scream like that, if she could experience it, what would happen?
Something unimaginable was happening out there.
Amy tensed. She considered playing dead, as if what was happening might also be a threat to her. But it wasn't. No matter how hard her heart was pounding, those horrible things had been made by the mage who had appeared to save them.
So she didn't have to be afraid. So she should relax...
Her heart stopped for long, painful seconds when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Turning her towards the sky.
Turning her towards the face of her savior, who was... Ah, yes, Isabella.
Amy stopped thinking about her immediately. She didn't even thank her, in a weak voice. She was forced to direct every scrap of her conscious mind, which was slipping away from the great loss of blood, to what was happening not in front of her, but behind her and upwards. The empire's soldiers were not dead yet.
Not all of them.
One of them was still resisting. She thought the screaming had stopped because all the soldiers had been killed, but no, this one wasn't screaming just because his throat was crushed.
He was being lifted into the air by a wooden tentacle, which had a strength that no branch should have, and being slowly crushed, like a bug, in its powerful grip. Even if the soldier's throat were intact, she doubted he would have had the air and strength to scream, or to do anything at all.
He wasn't going to die by being crushed.
Instead, he was dragged into a tree hole, which was full of teeth. Wooden teeth, yes, but he had no doubt that they were sharp.
The Azure Empire soldier disappeared into the mouth of the tree.
Literally vanished. There was no trace of him, not even the tiniest scrap. The only thing that proved that he had ever existed in this world was the gallons of blood that the tree spat out before its mouth closed and it became nothing more than a tree again.
But the forest clearing was littered with gallons of blood, human body parts, including entrails.
So, as evidence, it was meaningless.
If someone came across this horrible sight, they would not be able to determine how many people had died here and now. No matter how many times they counted the body parts that dotted the large pool of blood, to be sure.
She had been fortunate enough not to experience that horrible spectacle, except for the end.
The survivors of the group she had brought here, only two now, had not only had to watch their comrades die before their very eyes. But they had had to witness, from beginning to end, something that seemed like the stuff of an urban legend that not even a child would believe.
But it was real.
The woman (Isabella, her name is Isabella) was telling her something. She hadn't heard her right.
Still, Amy answered, imagining what it was.
"I'm fine," she said.
She didn't feel fine, but it was true. She was experiencing more pain than she had ever experienced in her entire life, and she had been one step away from death, but now that was over. Aided by the strongest ally she could wish for, save for the headmaster himself, and perhaps even he was no match for her these days, she would make it to the academy safe and sound.
That wasn't a guarantee, of course. But she could worry about what came next when she was there, recovering in an infirmary bed.
For her, the fight was over, unable to show her best side.
And what she felt at that thought was... pure relief, no more, no less.
Her consciousness, which had been teetering on the edge of the abyss, finally fell.