Varon's chest seared with every breath, ribs shattered, blood foaming in his throat. But he willed himself straight, bracing himself on his glaives to keep his feet firm. He would not show weakness—not now, not before them.
His team surrounded him, half-desperation, half-instinct. Thalos covered him at once, stumbling but intact. Aeloria drew another arrow, her fingers shaking. Kaelen worked an incantation of healing, light flowing from his hands as he applied it to the wound in Varon's side. Selvara dropped low, claws extending, her yellow wolf eyes switching from the creature to her captain.
The S-Rank monstrosity didn't budge. It observed, like a butcher deciding how to slice the meat first.
Varon's gaze was on it, but he spoke to his crew. "Listen to me. All of you."
Kaelen's voice broke. "No—don't you say it. We're not leaving you—"
"This is not negotiable." Varon's voice was harder now, slicing through their hysteria. "Look at it. Look!"
They did. The monster changed again, relaxing its long neck in a sickening roll of joints, creaking like tree branches straining. Its smile never wavered. Its eyes burned with that mocking brightness, insulting them silently.
"That creature isn't here for you," Varon said, his voice low but even. "It's here for me. And if you remain, you'll die before you can even scratch it."
Selvara growled, tail bristling. "And what, you'll survive if we don't? Captain, I'm not leaving you—"
He stopped her with a bellow, sharp and intense, heavy with the force of command:
"This is not a request."
The words fell on them like a punch. Even the beast hesitated, cocking its head at the tone of command in Varon's voice.
Varon raised his glaives once more, blood trickling down his arm. His tone dropped, as unmoving as stone.
"It is an order. An order of your captain—Varon Draegus, son of Malrik Draegus, Warlord of the Abyssal Vanguard. And I will not repeat myself.
The news weighed heavily in the square. His origins had always been spoken of behind his back, but to have him say it aloud here, on the brink of death, took away any last veil. He wasn't only their captain—he was kin to one of the most feared demon warlords living.
Aeloria's bow dropped, her eyes wide in shock. "Varon…"
Kaelen's spell wavered, his hands falling. "If we leave, you'll…"
"I'll buy you time," said Varon matter-of-factly. His tone was firm, as if he had already resigned himself to death. "The city still needs you. The Academy still needs you. Don't waste what we've fought for by sacrificing your lives now."
Thalos' voice was a rasp, his shield shaking in his hand. "You bloody fool. you're expecting us to live with this. To live without you."
Varon looked at him, and for a moment, a fleeting instant, his lips twisted into a faint smile. "That's the price of survivors, old friend. Worse than that to lie in your graves."
Selvara's claws sank into the cobblestones, wolf ears pressed against her head. Her eyes shone with rage. "No! I won't go! You always bring us back together, you always keep us alive. How dare you imagine you can just—"
Varon's glare quieted her. Not cruel, but unrelenting. "You swore to obey my commands. You swore to trust me when it counted most. This is that moment, Selvara. If you go against me now, all we've created, all we've suffered—it all dies here."
The monster laughed low, a sickening sound like grinding bones. It bent over close, its breath filled with ash and rot, and hissed, "Yes… flee, little ones. Leave him to me. Leave your captain to perish."
Aeloria winced, tears scalding in her eyes. She shot at the creature's eye, released the arrow, and it rang harmlessly off its rocky hide. The monster didn't even twitch.
"Move out!" Varon snapped, his own voice recalling them to him.
Kaelen shook his head wildly, tears falling uncontrolled now. "No. Gods curse it, no! We've fought side by side, we've shared blood, I won't leave—"
Varon clamped down on his collar, pulling him close until their foreheads met. His voice was reduced to a whisper that only Kaelen could hear.
"You are stronger than you know. You are the only one who can keep them alive when I die. If you love me as your captain, as your brother, then do this. Get them away."
Kaelen's lips quivered. He wanted to struggle, to shout, to remain. But the insistence in Varon's voice overwhelmed him. Finally, he nodded, weeping, and Varon pushed him back towards the others.
Selvara looked away, biting down so hard on her lip that it bled. Aeloria lifted her bow once more but her arms trembled too violently to steady. Thalos stood firm, shield up, his tears concealed behind his beard.
Varon looked at them all once more. His squad. His family.
"Live," he told them. "That's my last command."
The grin of the monster spread. "Yes. Run. Let me shatter your hope first."
And with one last bellow, Varon rushed the monster, his glaives glinting in the light of the flames. And his platoon, rent asunder by sorrow and rage, followed—stumbling back into the smoke, even as their captain's fight started.