The Spider King turned towards them, only to realize too late that he had struck a decoy. The guards aimed their flintlock rifles, while Silas raised his staff and cast [Air Burst], directing the blast near its ear. The air erupted, causing the monster to stagger. Bullets flew but barely scratched the Spider King's massive form.
"Get ready! We're throwing grenades!" Danavar shouted, casting [Haste] on himself and Silas. The guards began to glow with a bright red light, as if they were ablaze.
Danavar advanced, the guards following in a tight line. Silas trailed at the back, his heart pounding as he saw the monster's immense size up close. Its abdomen and muscles rippled with every movement.
"Uncap your grenades!" Danavar commanded, his voice cutting through the rustling grass. "Soldiers, we cannot fail!"
Silas uncapped his grenade, mimicking the guards. Danavar hurled his grenade and dodged the [Spider King]'s stomping legs just in time. The guards did the same, throwing their grenades and darting away. As his turn approached, the wizard's palm started sweating.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. The soldier before him threw his grenade. Silas followed suit, making a sharp turn as soon as he released it. He clapped his hands over his ears and ran, the explosion's shockwave nearly knocking him off his feet. He stumbled, the sharp grass cutting into his skin.
Silas pushed himself up, only to see a speeding stave hurtling towards him. His ears rang as he raised his hand to conjure a [Barrier]. He knew it wouldn't hold.
'This is where I die', he thought, bracing for the impact.
The [Barrier] materialized just in time to intercept the stave. Silas's hearing slowly returned, the first sound being the shattering of his [Barrier]. In the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of movement. A figure dashed in from his left, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him away just as the shield disintegrated.
They tumbled to the ground and rolled through the dirt. Silas groaned as the pain radiated through his body. He pushed himself up, scanning the area for his rescuer. Just ahead of him, the [Spider King] loomed over its burning lair, a menacing silhouette.
Silas spotted the man who had saved him—Dean, the guard he had helped earlier. He sprinted towards Dean, the effects of [Haste] slowly fading. The other Peacekeeper rushed towards the direction of their comrade. Silas was the last one to arrive. For a moment, he hoped Dean had simply fallen, but his heart sank when he saw the truth.
Dean's shoulder was a mangled mess, half of it missing. Silas thought he was dead until he noticed the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Dean's eyes fluttered open, disoriented but focused on Silas. He tried to speak.
"Don't," Silas urged. "Save your strength."
"Kid…" Dean rasped.
The guards exchanged looks, a mix of anger and blame. Silas could feel their accusations, mirroring his own guilt.
"Eris," Danavar said softly. "He's calling you."
Silas knelt beside Dean, gripping his hand tightly. The memory of holding his grandfather's hand as life slipped away flashed through his mind.
Dean managed a weak smile. "What's your name?"
"Eris," Silas replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. "It's Eris."
"Eris," Dean nodded, then he closed his eyes as his hand went limp.
Their moment of mourning was brutally brief. Danavar barked orders to retreat into the forest with Dean's body. They avoided the slowest of the Spider King's staves. As he looked back, Silas saw the beast still standing strong and seemingly unscathed from all their attacks.
"I hope Ken makes it back to Gram," Danavar murmured, eyes fixed on the [Spider King].
The guards glanced at him, and even Silas found himself looking at their leader.
"Shouldn't we just run after him, Captain?" one guard suggested. "Our chances are slim, but better than fighting a battle we can't win."
Murmurs spread through the ranks, some soldiers voicing their fears, others praying quietly. Danavar watched them with the calm demeanor of a seasoned leader.
"Are you finished?" he asked. The guards fell silent, all eyes on him.
"When we set out, I didn't foresee this," Danavar began, meeting their gazes. "But even if I had, my decision to fight wouldn't change. I choose to face this beast, to stand with you, to witness my comrades fall, feeling the weight of my choices. I choose to fight beside you, to raise my sword with yours, and, if it comes to it, to die with you. That decision stands firm."
"Before we came here, I didn't know that we're going to end up in this situation," he held the gazes of his remaining soldiers. "But even if I know, my decision to fight this losing battle, as you called it, will never change. I will still choose to fight that thing before us. I will still choose to watch my people die right before my eyes … unable to do anything or vanquished the guilt that I feel for it is my decision that causes their death… I will still choose to fight alongside you, to raise my sword alongside yours, and, if it comes to it, to die with you. My decision will never change."
He scanned their faces. "But I understand the gravity of what I'm asking. If anyone wishes to leave, I won't stop you. It's your choice. For those who will stay, I offer my trust and gratitude. I will be forever indebted to you."
"I'm leaving," Lex said, his fist clenched. He cast a hateful glance at Silas. What causes this man to hate him, Silas didn't even know himself. The wizards wished to kill him at that moment, he felt distrustful of the man and his own instinct told him that he was up to no good.
Danavar nodded to the remaining soldiers, their faces a mix of fear and resolve.
"We hold the line," Danavar commanded. "Until our reinforcements arrive."
---
Ken's lungs burned with each desperate breath. It had been almost two hours since Danavar ordered him to run back to the village to get the group of Lightservants or mercenaries he had requested for help.
He squinted, almost laughing with relief as he saw the forest's edge ahead. Glancing back, he confirmed he'd lost the spiders that had chased him. The other one he managed to kill. The cold wind welcomed him, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, spreading his arms to savor the surge of hope. But reality snapped him back—he had no time to waste.
Ken's lungs burned from each desperate breath he took. It had almost been two hours since his captaian, Danavar, told him to run back to the villages to get that he requested-the Lightservants or the mercenaries he was talking about.
He cast [Haste] and sprinted the rest of the way to the town. The guards at the gates rushed to meet him.
"Ken!" one called with concern in his voice. "Where are the others? Where's Captain Danavar?"
The guard frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Captain said..." Ken's voice trailed off as realization hit him—Danavar had lied. His legs buckled, a wave of despair washing over him.
"No. Captain and the others... they sent me here. Captain told me there were reinforcements."
"I'm sorry, but it's been days since we've seen a wagon—"
The tolling bells interrupted him. The guard ran to the watchtower, Ken following from behind. They stared down the road as a carriage trudged forward towards the gate. Ken used Farsight allowing him to see things even from afar. It was a black carriage with a glowing silver insignia of triangle with stars at each of the three corners. A carriage owned by a Lightservant.
"It might be the one that captain Danavar was expecting," the guard said.
"It is," Ken said. His legs gave out. The Peecekeeper finally realizing how tired he had been. "That carriage is own by a Lightservant."