The world had become a cacophony of chaos and death.
Screams mingled with the deafening clash of metal, the wet, sickening sound of flesh torn apart, and the frenzied shrieks of dying men and Imps alike.
The ground was slick with blood, the scent of iron and fire clogging my throat.
Western Guard Camp—what remained of it—was collapsing.
And there was nowhere left to run.
——
I twisted, barely dodging a jagged blade, the air hissing past my cheek as I snapped my fan open—
A quick, precise strike, the sharpened steel edge slicing through an Imp's exposed throat.
A gurgled cry.
Black blood splattered my arm.
The body collapsed, twitching—but before I could breathe, another took its place.
——
To my left, Sergeant Lucian fought with gritted teeth, his curved blade drenched in black gore.
His breath was ragged, his stance weakened—but he still moved.
A heavy swing, arching low—
The Imp shrieked as its legs were severed, its body collapsing into the mud.
Lucian raised his sword again—
And a massive club crashed into his side.
——
I watched, frozen, as his body twisted midair, his ribs cracking, his sword slipping from his grasp—
Then he hit the ground, rolling—blood pooling beneath him.
He wasn't getting up.
——
I gasped, my heart hammering.
No—
No, we couldn't keep losing people like this.
——
A shadow loomed behind me.
I turned instinctively, my fingers tightening around my blade—too slow.
The Imp's axe came down.
I couldn't dodge.
But I could deflect.
I twisted my wrist, steel meeting iron, the impact vibrating through my bones—
Then I spun, my foot sweeping low.
The Imp stumbled—
And I thrust forward, piercing its chest.
A gurgled gasp.
Then stillness.
——
But I couldn't stop.
Not yet.
——
Ahead, I saw Boros—his face pale, an arrow still jutting from his thigh.
He was still fighting, his knife flashing, his hands shaking from exhaustion.
An Imp lunged, its rusted sword raised—
"Boros!" I shouted—
He barely turned in time to block, his arm buckling under the force—
The Imp grabbed his wrist, its jagged teeth snapping at his throat.
——
I moved.
My feet barely touched the ground, the wind rushing past my ears as I leapt forward.
The weight of my body, the momentum—
I drove my blade downward, slicing through the creature's spine.
A horrible, wet crunch.
It collapsed instantly.
——
Boros exhaled, his chest heaving.
"Gods," he muttered, gripping his injured leg. "I think that thing was trying to eat me."
"Keep moving!" I snapped, already scanning for the next attack.
But there were too many.
Too many falling.
Too many dying.
——
A distant shout—
I turned just in time to see Garret, his shield cracked, his armor split, struggling against a towering Imp brute.
The creature's club swung high, aimed for his skull—
Garret raised his shield—
The wood splintered, a horrible crunch.
He staggered, blood dripping from his mouth—
The second strike came instantly.
The club connected with his ribs, sending him crashing into the dirt.
A ragged breath—
Then stillness.
——
"NO!"
Boros staggered forward, his knife still clutched in his bloodied hands—
The brute turned, unfazed, its massive foot slamming down—
Bones crunched.
Boros screamed.
——
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't move.
We were losing.
——
And then—
Another roar.
——
Red Nose moved again, his massive form shoving past his own troops, his eyes locked onto Elias.
A single, guttural growl.
"You do not belong."
——
Elias stumbled back, his breathing uneven.
For the first time—he hesitated.
I could see it—the conflict, the fear, the way his instincts screamed at him to run.
But he couldn't.
Not this time.
——
Red Nose charged.
Elias barely dodged, the ground splitting apart where he once stood.
His hands clenched, the black mist curling around his fingers—
But he didn't attack.
His entire body was tense, like every fibre of his being was screaming—"This is wrong."
——
I couldn't let him face this alone.
I moved, my blade flashing, aiming for the monster's exposed side—
But Red Nose anticipated it.
His clawed hand lashed out, and before I could react—
His massive fist connected with my ribs.
——
Everything blurred.
That really hurts!
Pain exploded through my body, my vision tilting as I was sent flying backward.
I crashed against the ground, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.
The world spun, the sounds of battle muffling into an incoherent haze.
——
I blinked.
The sky above me was dark, grey, endless.
My breath came in ragged gasps.
Move.
I had to move.
——
Footsteps approached.
Elias's face hovered above mine, his expression somewhere between panic and frustration.
"Ume," he hissed. "Are you alive?"
"…No," I rasped. "I'm actually dead."
He let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
Then his eyes snapped up.
"Edan—"
——
I turned my head just in time to see him collapse.
His body crumpled, his wounds too deep, too severe.
He didn't speak.
Didn't move.
——
"Elias," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
He didn't look at me.
His gaze was fixed on the battlefield, on the bodies, on the blood.
For the first time since this fight began—
I think he finally understood what war truly was.
——
And it terrified him.