Amukelo stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body of the priest. But in truth, his mind was far away. The adrenaline that had fueled him through the battle was rapidly fading, leaving only the sharp pangs of his injuries and a crushing exhaustion.
Blood dripped from the cuts and burns that marred his body, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. His legs trembled beneath him. The pain, the weight of his sword, the burden of the fight—it all became too much.
His vision blurred, the world around him slowly fading to darkness. He tried to stay conscious, but his strength was gone. His sword slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground. A moment later, he collapsed, falling hard onto the cold stone floor. His body lay limp, his breathing shallow.
For a long moment, there was a profound silence in the room. Everyone stared at the fallen priest. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, the remaining soldiers who had fought alongside Amukelo erupted in a loud, victorious cry. Their voices filled the air, a mixture of triumph and relief. Their morale surged, invigorated by the fall of their enemy's leader. On the other side, the priest's followers stood in shock, their will shattered. With no leader, no hope, and seeing the enemies powerful golem still moving, they had nothing left to fight for. One by one, they laid down their weapons and surrendered.
Eliss, who had remained at a distance, watched the scene unfold. For a brief moment, she considered stepping in to help the soldiers deal with the remaining enemies, but the sight of their surrender made her change her mind. There was no need for further bloodshed. Instead, her attention shifted to Amukelo, who lay motionless on the ground.
She hesitated for a moment, then began walking toward him. Her steps were slow, almost reluctant. As she got closer, her expression softened, a shadow of sadness crossing her face.
"He's probably passed away," she murmured to herself. Her voice was soft. "I guess he did what he thought was right… He wasn't a coward." Her eyes grew distant as she spoke those last words, her thoughts pulling her somewhere far away. For just a moment, a deeper sorrow flickered in her eyes. Something about that stirred a feeling inside her, one that she'd rather forget.
She knelt down beside Amukelo, her face calm, but her movements careful. She leaned in, placing her hand gently on his neck to check for a pulse, fully expecting to feel nothing. After all, how could anyone survive after all the damage Amukelos suffered?
But then… there it was. A pulse. Faint, but steady.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What…?" she whispered, her heart racing in sudden shock. "He's alive…?"
She quickly glanced over his body, searching for any sign of healing potions or anything that could help him. She knew he had used a potion before, and there had to be more. Her hands went to his belt, but there were only broken bottles. No full potions, nothing that could save him. Panic began to rise in her chest. His condition was critical, and although she had a healing spell, she wasn't a trained healer. The spell required a long time to cast again after such an intense battle.
Eliss's mind raced as she tried to think of a solution. She stared at Amukelo, who now lay still and vulnerable before her. His chest moved faintly with each breath, but his wounds were severe, and he was losing blood quickly.
"Damn it…" she muttered under her breath.
Eliss sprinted toward the remaining soldiers. By the time she arrived, it was clear that the battle had ended. All the enemy combatants were tied up, their hands bound to ensure they couldn't cause any more harm. The soldiers stood watch over them, their faces a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Eliss wasted no time. She approached the closest soldier, her voice tight with concern.
"Do you have any healers or healing potions?" she asked, her eyes flicking toward where Amukelo lay.
The soldier paused for a moment as if searching his memory. Then he shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I can't think of any place where we could store them, and healers... I don't know either." His brow furrowed in confusion as he added, "You look fine. What's the matter?"
Eliss turned slightly and pointed back toward where Amukelo lay, her voice lowering. "I'm fine, but he isn't. He's still alive, but I don't know how much longer he can hold on."
The soldier followed her gaze, his eyes widening as he noticed Amukelo's crumpled form on the ground. But before either of them could respond, a voice from the side called out, "I know where we keep the remaining potions! I'll get them."
A younger soldier broke away from the group and ran toward one of the church doors. Eliss watched him go, silently praying that he would return in time.
With a deep breath, she turned her attention back to the dungeon doors they had come through. Walking up to the doors, she opened them, revealing the shadowy figures of the women and girls they had freed from their cells. Some of their eyes were still flickering with confusion and fear, and others were filled with a haunting emptiness, the kind that only comes from prolonged suffering.
Eliss softened her tone, speaking gently, "It's over. You're free now. No one will hurt you anymore." She smiled warmly at them, her words carrying the sincerity of someone who deeply cared.
Slowly, the women and girls began to move, hesitant at first but eventually following Eliss as she led them out of the dungeon and into the open air. The sunlight that bathed the church courtyard was faint, but it felt like the first sign of hope after the long, dark nightmare they had endured.
Eliss guided the women to a safe space and then turned to the soldier from earlier. "They were prisoners," she explained softly, her eyes brimming with empathy. "Used in ways that no human should ever be used."
The soldier's face paled as the gravity of her words sank in. His jaw clenched, and he balled his hands into fists, fury and disgust washing over him. "Those bastards..." he muttered, his voice trembling with anger. He took a step back, glaring at the captives they had just tied up, the men who had allowed such horrors to happen under their watch. "If only we had been stronger…" he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
His expression hardened, and he called out to the other soldiers, "Listen up! Every soldier who was in this dungeon will be considered an enemy of the people. They are as guilty as the cultists! Tie up anyone who was guarding this place and didn't report what was happening. They're just as responsible."
At his command, the soldiers dispersed, spreading the word to the others. They moved quickly, determined to root out the corruption that had plagued their ranks.
Eliss, however, stayed focused on the women. She knelt down beside them, speaking quietly and gently to each one, offering them a kind smile, a warm touch, and words of comfort. Most of the women, now freed from their cages and torment, began to regain a spark of hope in their eyes. The knowledge that their captors were defeated, that they were no longer trapped in that hell, started to breathe life back into their spirits.
But not all of them could recover so easily. Some of the women had been prisoners for far too long. Their blank, vacant stares seemed impenetrable, as though the horrors they had experienced had stolen their very souls. They had been broken down so completely that even freedom felt like a cruel joke.
Eliss, seeing their despair, didn't turn away. She approached each woman with tenderness, speaking to them softly, giving them the space to process their emotions. She knelt by one woman who sat motionless, her eyes wide and empty. "You're free now," Eliss said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can start again. This… this nightmare is over."
The woman didn't respond at first, her gaze fixed on the ground. But then, slowly, she turned to look at Eliss, her lips quivering. Without a word, she broke down into tears, deep, wrenching sobs that seemed to shake her whole body. Eliss, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around the woman, holding her tightly as she cried. She didn't say anything—there were no words that could heal such deep wounds. But her presence, her warmth, was enough to remind the woman that she wasn't alone anymore.
One by one, Eliss did the same for the others. She spoke with each of them, listening when they wanted to talk, offering comfort when they couldn't. Some wept openly, releasing the pain and fear they had held onto for so long. Others were quieter, but Eliss made sure each of them knew that they were cared for, that they had a future ahead of them, no matter how impossible it seemed.
For the first time in a long while, these women could see the possibility of a new beginning. And Eliss, in her gentle, compassionate way, had shown them that they didn't have to face it alone.