"Leon!"
Olivia's voice rang out, sharp and urgent, as she dashed past the scattering soldiers, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted into the narrow alleyway. Her eyes widened in fear when she caught sight of her companion slumped against the grimy wall, his breastplate torn and his body swaying with exhaustion.
Without hesitation, Olivia reached out and grasped Leon's shoulders, steadying him before he could collapse. Her hands were trembling, but her voice was steady, filled with concern. "Where are you hurt? Are you okay?"
Leon managed a weak smile, shaking his head slowly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just... feeling a little weak." His voice was hoarse, and his breath shallow, but his gaze flicked to her torn sleeve. "What about you? Your shoulder... it looks bad."
Olivia followed his eyes to the gash running across her left arm, the once smooth skin now marred by ragged, bloodied scratches. She could feel the blood trickling down, but she dismissed it with a shaky smile. "It's nothing, just a scratch," she lied, doing her best to mask the burning pain from the deep wound and the throbbing bruise in her abdomen from a well-aimed kick.
Leon sighed, his relief evident, though his concern lingered. But before either could say more, the heavy thudding of hooves announced the arrival of Liam, who approached them with another figure slumped over his horse.
Leon's heart clenched as he saw their companion lying limp. "Brandon!" His voice was tight with worry. "Is he...?"
Liam didn't have a chance to respond before Brandon, weak but conscious, waved a hand from the horse's back, his voice rough but still carrying a hint of humor. "Still alive... cough, cough... not dead yet."
Leon exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders slightly. At least they were all still breathing. For now.
His gaze drifted toward the alley where Liam had come from, and the distant sound of chaos echoed through the village; soldiers fleeing, the thunderous cries of beasts hunting them down. Time was running out.
"We need to move," Leon said, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. "While those soldiers are distracted, we can slip through the market and grab the horses we hid. It's our best shot."
Liam, ever the protector, drew his sword without hesitation. "I'll take the lead. Stay behind me," he ordered, spurring his horse forward, his keen eyes scanning the way ahead for any sign of danger.
Leon, his steps faltering from fatigue, leaned heavily on Olivia's support as they followed closely behind. Her grip was steady, but he could sense the pain she was hiding behind that determined expression.
The streets were eerily quiet, save for the distant roars of the griffins and the panicked shouts of the soldiers. Every now and then, they passed stragglers from the Kantadar army, their faces pale with terror, but none of them paid any attention to the small group making their way toward the market. The soldiers were too busy trying to escape with their lives.
As they walked, Leon's thoughts were plagued with doubt. The griffins, ferocious, intelligent beasts; were wreaking havoc on the invaders. But something gnawed at him. They had encountered these creatures before, and while the griffins were wild, they were not entirely mindless. What if... what if the griffin they had saved before, the one with the cunning eyes, remembered them?
He swallowed hard. "Do you think it's safe?" Leon muttered, half to himself. "The griffins... they've been tearing through the Kantadar soldiers, but... do you think they'd come after us, too?"
Olivia glanced at him, her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Leon shook his head, his mind racing. "That griffin... the big one. We've faced it before. It might remember us. And look at us, we're still wearing the armor of the Kantadar cavalry. What if it thinks we're part of them?"
For a moment, the group fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Leon's words settling over them. It was true. Except for Olivia, all of them were clad in the enemy's armor, bloodied and torn as it was.
Liam glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sharp. "Griffins are beasts, not fools. If it recognizes us as enemy, there's no telling what it will do. We can't take any chances."
Leon nodded, though his heart sank at the thought. The griffins were wild creatures, dangerous and unpredictable. Even if they had survived their last encounter, he couldn't rely on the beast's memory or its mercy.
As they pressed forward, the distant roars of the griffins continued to echo in the background. And though the immediate danger seemed to have passed, Leon couldn't shake the gnawing unease that lingered in his gut.
Olivia, sensing his tension, squeezed his arm gently. "We'll be alright," she whispered, her voice soft but full of determination. "We've made it this far. We'll make it out together."
Leon gave her a small, tired smile, but his thoughts remained troubled. There was still so much uncertainty, and with each passing moment, the danger seemed to grow. But for now, all they could do was keep moving forward; step by step, toward whatever lay ahead.
Olivia's breath caught as the sound of screams filled the air, coming from every corner of the village. The thunderous flap of enormous wings echoed above them, sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't help but ask, her voice barely audible over the chaos, "Leon... what is that thing?"
Leon, still pale from exertion, glanced up at the sky where the massive creature soared. His lips curled into a faint, almost nostalgic smile. "Remember the story I told you? About the time I rescued a griffin in the forest?"
Olivia's eyes widened, trying to process what she was hearing. "You mean... that's the same griffin?"
Leon nodded. "If I got a good enough look at its feathers and the markings, yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him."
Olivia blinked, astonished. She'd grown up in Selva, surrounded by woods and wild creatures, but griffins? They were nothing more than legend, distant tales told around fires. "A griffin," she murmured, letting the word roll off her tongue. "I never thought they were real, let alone that you'd rescued one."
"Real enough," Leon said, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. But Olivia wasn't finished. Her curiosity was piqued now, and despite the danger surrounding them, she pressed on.
"Did you... I don't know, call it for help?" She looked at him, half-expecting to hear some fantastical tale of a bond forged between man and beast.
Leon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "If I could summon a griffin to rescue us, we wouldn't be sneaking through this village like rats. We'd be flying out on its back." His smile faded as he glanced back toward the sky, where the massive creature circled ominously. "No, it's not here for us."
His tone grew serious as he continued, "Griffins are... complicated. They're not just wild animals; they're smart, and they're vengeful. I've heard the stories. It's more likely it's here for the Kantadar soldiers."
Olivia frowned. "Why would it care about them?"
Leon's expression darkened as he recalled their first meeting with the beast. "When I found that griffin, it was hurt, nearly dead. Someone had attacked it, and seeing it now, I'd bet anything those attackers were from Kantadar's army."
Olivia's eyes widened. "So it's hunting them? For revenge?"
"Griffins don't forget," Leon said grimly. "And they don't forgive."
Their conversation was cut short as they arrived at the yard where they had hidden the horses. The two remaining warhorses were in a state of panic, their nostrils flaring as they tugged at their reins, clearly spooked by the distant roars of the griffin.
Leon sighed, his body still weak from the fight. He slung the long sword he had taken from a fallen knight onto his belt and approached the nearest horse. As he grabbed the saddle and tried to hoist himself up, his legs trembled, refusing to obey. After several failed attempts, he barely managed to keep from falling, the horse shifting restlessly beneath him.
Olivia, seeing him struggle, quickly stepped forward and grabbed his arm, steadying him before he toppled to the ground. Her brow furrowed with concern as she glanced at the skittish warhorse.
After a moment of hesitation, she made up her mind. Moving to the horse, she grabbed the saddle with a determined grip and, with one fluid motion, swung herself onto its back. She took hold of the reins, her movements calm and steady, whispering soothing words to the beast as it gradually stilled under her touch.
With the horse now settled, Olivia shifted forward in the saddle, making space behind her. She turned, stretching out a hand to Leon. "Come on, get up here. You're not going to be able to ride on your own in this condition."
Leon gave her a weak, bitter smile, glancing down at his trembling legs. He knew she was right. In his current state, even staying on a horse would be a challenge, and a fall could mean the end. There was no room for pride now.
"Alright," he sighed, reaching out to take her hand. With her help; surprisingly strong for someone her size, he managed to haul himself onto the horse behind her.
But as soon as he was seated, he couldn't help but notice just how close they were. The saddle wasn't built for two, and they were pressed tightly together, Olivia's warmth palpable against him.
"It's... a bit tight," he muttered, trying to shift his position awkwardly.
Olivia shot him a quick glance over her shoulder, the corners of her mouth twitching into a teasing smile. "You'll live. Just hold on."
Leon couldn't argue with that. He wrapped an arm around her waist, securing himself as best he could. It wasn't the most dignified way to ride, but dignity was a luxury they couldn't afford right now.
With one last glance back at the chaos behind them, Olivia gave the reins a firm tug, and the horse began to move, carrying them away from the screams, the flapping wings, and the fury of the griffin overhead.
Leon shifted uncomfortably, pressed close against Olivia's back, his hands hovering awkwardly, unsure where to place them. The saddle was small enough for one rider, but with two of them squeezed onto the horse, it felt even more cramped. If Olivia hadn't been so petite, there would have been no room for him at all.
Sensing his discomfort, Olivia glanced over her shoulder with a calm, reassuring smile. "It's alright, Leon. Just hold on to me. It'd be a lot worse if you fell off."
Her casual tone made him blush, and he nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Right, sorry about that." With some hesitation, he gently wrapped his arm around her waist, his grip firm but careful.
Even so, to avoid feeling more awkward, Leon shifted slightly and reached for the cavalry spear leaning beside him with his free hand. At least that gave him something to hold onto besides Olivia.
He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. Thankfully, he was wearing armor, with thick padding and chainmail separating him from the girl in front of him. Even if he wanted to take advantage of the situation; well, he couldn't. Not that I would, he thought, quickly shaking off the stray thought. Fortunately, I'm armored. He sighed quietly to himself, pushing aside the distracting thoughts as they rode on.
As they burst out of the yard and onto the open road, Leon leaned closer to Olivia, calling out to Liam, who rode ahead of them. "Where did you hide Uncle Brian? We need to get to him first."
Liam glanced back, adjusting his hold on the reins. "In the woods nearby," he shouted, before urging his horse to pick up speed, with Brandon still draped across its back.
The village behind them seemed eerily empty. The Kantadar cavalry had either fled or gone into hiding, leaving the streets clear as they galloped out toward the forest. Dust kicked up behind their horses as they sped along the dirt road, the sound of hooves pounding in rhythm. The tension that had been thick in the air slowly began to lift, but not for long.
Just as they neared the woods, Leon's keen ears picked up the unmistakable sound of shouting and horses in pursuit. He turned his head, and not far behind them, galloping down a gentle slope, was a figure he recognized instantly.
The shirtless man, a Kantadar noble, was fleeing on horseback, his once-proud posture now slumped in desperation. The arrogance he had worn like armor before was gone, replaced by sheer panic. His bare chest, which had once gleamed red with a sense of superiority, now looked pale and drained of all bravado.
Olivia turned at the same time, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the fleeing noble. "Leon! It's him," she said, her voice sharp with recognition. There was no need to explain; they both knew who he was, and what he had done.
Leon's mind raced. How had he escaped the griffin's clutches? He must've had some luck, but it wouldn't save him this time. There was no way Leon was going to let him get away. The enemy was right there, within reach. A familiar fire sparked in his chest—revenge was close.
"Enemies always seem to show up when the road is narrow," Leon muttered to himself. He leaned in closer to Olivia, voice low but determined. "Olivia, do you still have enough strength to fight?"
Without hesitation, Olivia nodded, her eyes fierce with determination. "Yes, I can fight! But you..." She trailed off, looking over her shoulder at him, concern flickering in her gaze.
Leon gave her a reassuring smile, though his exhaustion was still evident. "I'm fine. I've got enough left in me." He gestured for her not to worry. There was no time to hesitate now.
With that, he called out to Liam, who was riding ahead. "Liam! Break off with me; we're intercepting that shirtless bastard on the right!"
Liam's eyes darted toward the fleeing noble, his jaw tightening in understanding. He gave a quick nod, and without a word, veered off course to follow Leon's lead. The chase was on.
As the horses surged forward, Leon tightened his grip around Olivia's waist, leaning closer to steady himself as they gained on their target. His free hand clenched the spear tightly, heart pounding in sync with the galloping hooves beneath him. This was it, the moment they could settle the score.
At Leon's shout, Liam glanced back, his eyes locking onto the fleeing figure Leon had pointed out. Without hesitation, he pulled his reins sharply to the right, guiding his horse toward their target. "Brandon, hold tight!" he called over his shoulder to his injured companion.
The two riders veered off the main path, their horses galloping down the gentle slope in a wide arc. They split up, each coming from a different angle to cut off their quarry's escape route. The pounding of hooves echoed across the barren land, and the dust rose in thick clouds behind them.
Baron, hearing the unmistakable sound of approaching riders, turned his head, his eyes widening in shock. His gaze locked onto the familiar figure in the white dress; Olivia. Recognition hit him hard, and for a moment, panic flashed across his face. He was cornered, trapped on the narrow dirt road with nowhere to turn.
He had barely escaped death once, and his body was still battered and weak. The gem that had fueled his magic was now spent, leaving him powerless. His grip on his sword was tenuous, and his strength was failing.
Leon, standing behind Olivia on their shared horse, raised his spear, aiming it shakily at the enemy. His arms trembled with fatigue, and the weapon wobbled, difficult to steady in his current state.
Just as he was about to tuck the spear under his arm for more stability, Olivia reached back and grasped the spear's handle firmly, her grip strong and sure. "Leave it to me," she said, her voice steady but burning with determination.
Leon nodded, releasing the spear into her capable hands. He trusted her; he had to.
Olivia leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with focus as they closed the distance between them and Baron. Her voice rang out, fierce and resolute, "Evildoer! Pay for your crimes with your blood!"
The sound of their horse's hooves drowned out everything else as they sped toward him, the gap closing rapidly. Olivia's heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the rage and grief that boiled within her. In her mind's eye, she saw her village; burning, destroyed, her people slaughtered. And at the center of it all, this man Baron, the butcher of her home.
Baron, realizing he had no chance of escape, gritted his teeth and steeled himself for a final stand. He switched his sword from his injured right hand to his left, struggling to raise it against the overwhelming pain. He had no other choice, this was his last moment of defiance.
But his movements were sluggish, clumsy. His left arm could barely hold the sword, and the pain wracked his body with every breath. Still, he raised it, desperate to defend himself.
With a metallic clang, the sword met Olivia's spear in midair. But while Baron's parry was weak and poorly timed, Olivia's strike was precise, driven by sheer force and unrelenting vengeance.
Under the scorching sun, there was no honor, no formal contest of skill; only justice, cold and brutal.
The spear pierced straight through Baron's chest.
His body jolted with the impact, lifted from the saddle by the force of Olivia's blow. For a brief, frozen moment, he hung in the air, impaled on the lance like a ragdoll. And then, with a heavy thud, his lifeless form crashed to the ground, rolling and tumbling along the gravel road, each sickening crunch marking a broken bone.
The sound echoed in the still air, hollow, final.
Olivia brought her warhorse to a halt, the beast's breath heavy and labored as it calmed beneath her control. Her golden hair, tousled by the wind, settled around her shoulders as she sat tall in the saddle, gripping the bloodied spear.
She turned, her eyes falling on the motionless body of Baron, sprawled across the dirt like discarded refuse. His mouth, twisted in a grotesque expression of rage and fear, hung open, as if he'd died with one last curse on his lips; never to be spoken.
The ground beneath him was stained with blood, mixing with the dirt and dust, turning the road into a pool of crimson mud. Olivia, her breath steady, stared down at the fallen villain, her heart no longer racing, but calm. The justice she had sought for her village, her people, was now realized.
She lowered the spear, the weight of the moment settling on her, but there was no joy in her victory; only the quiet satisfaction that comes with the end of a long, painful journey.