The iron gates of the mansion exploded inward with a roar. Splinters of wood and metal rained across the marble steps as the dead poured in like a tide. Hollow eyes glowed in the dark; weapons scavenged from the cemetery glinted in the pale light. At their head walked Lammy, his cloak torn, his skin ashen, but his eyes burning with resolve.
Inside the basement, Prince's head snapped up at the tremor. Chains rattled as he strained against them, the damp air heavy with despair. Praise shivered beside him, her hands raw from the enchanted ropes. Jed hung his head, still fighting the suppressing runes etched into the cuffs that bit into his wrists.
Above them, the hallways became a battlefield. The first Revenant guards crashed against the skeletal vanguard. Shields splintered; swords clanged against bone. The mansion echoed with unearthly cries as the undead pressed forward, heedless of pain. Black-armoured soldiers shouted orders, but their lines buckled under the relentless push.
Lammy forced his way through the chaos, a hand pressed to the sigil scorched into his palm. Each step sent another ripple of power through the army. He could feel his magic burning out, but he clung to it like a lifeline. Hold just a little longer. Hold until they're free.
He reached the basement door and kicked it open. Dust and candlelight spilled into the cell. "Prince!" he shouted. "Hold on!"
"Lammy?" Praise's eyes widened. She had never seen him like this, wild and gaunt, surrounded by a cloud of whispering shades.
He flicked his wrist. The sigil flared and the ropes binding them smoked and fell away. "Move!"
Jed staggered to his feet, claws already forming as his suppressed power snapped back. With a roar he half-transformed, smashing the chains from his arms. Prince caught Praise by the hand and pulled her toward the stairs. Above them the ceiling trembled; the battle raged closer.
They burst into the main hall. Dead and living fought in a storm of steel. Jed leapt into the fray, hurling soldiers aside. Praise darted behind fallen pillars, searching for a clear path. Lammy's spell faltered; parts of the army crumbled to dust as the backlash hit him. He wiped blood from his nose and pushed harder.
A hush cut through the chaos. The lieutenant had entered the hall.
He moved like a shadow of iron, his black coat swirling, his left arm a mass of metal and runes. The soldiers rallied behind him as he advanced, each step deliberate. His voice carried above the din. "Two years ago you took my flesh," he said to Prince. "Tonight I take your freedom."
Prince stepped forward, letting go of Praise's hand. "Two years ago you underestimated me," he said quietly. His blade slid free of its sheath with a whisper.
The lieutenant smiled without warmth. "Then let's finish it."
They met in a clash of steel and sparks. The lieutenant's metal arm struck like a hammer, shattering tiles. Prince ducked and wove, his mind tricks slipping between strikes, planting brief hesitations in his enemy's rhythm. Around them, Lammy, Jed and Praise fought to keep the soldiers from interfering.
The duel rolled across the hall — blow for blow, memory for memory. Prince saw flashes of the night they escaped: the corridors aflame, the lieutenant reaching for them, the desperate strike that ruined his arm. The echo of it guided his blade now.
A feint. A shift. A surge of power. Prince slid past the metal arm and drove his sword deep into the lieutenant's chest.
The Revenant staggered, surprise flickering in his eyes. For a heartbeat the hall went silent. Prince twisted the blade and whispered, "I should have done this last time. But this time… I did."
Blood darkened the runes on the lieutenant's coat. He coughed once, then laughed low. "I am only the sixth," he rasped. "Five more… will come." His metal fingers scraped across Prince's shoulder as he fell.
Prince yanked his blade free. "Then we'll defeat the other five — as a team."
All around them the undead crumbled to ash. The spell had run its course; the dead were free again. The remaining soldiers broke and fled into the shadows of the mansion. Jed, still half-beast, exhaled hard, his claws dripping. Lammy sagged against a column, exhausted but alive.
Praise stepped forward, her face pale but unshaken. She glanced at the fallen lieutenant, then at the three of them. "We actually did it," she breathed.
Prince turned to her. Dust and moonlight swirled through the shattered hall. Without thinking he reached out, sliding an arm around her waist, drawing her close. She stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed against him.
His eyes met hers. A small, tired smile curved his mouth. "Why be a king…" he murmured, "when you can be a god?"