The sky above Liveria does not darken.
It rots.
Hundreds of crows drown the heavens in black wings, circling endlessly above the kingdom like vultures waiting for a corpse to finally stop breathing. Their cries tear through the streets without pause harsh, shrill, mournful.
Not like birds.
Like grief.
Below them, chaos spreads through the slums like wildfire.
People run. Others hide behind shuttered windows. Some only watch.
And in the middle of the ruined street—
Elsbeth kneels in the mud beside Leonard's broken body.
Her midnight-blue dress is torn apart, the elegant silk stained black-red with blood and filth. One trembling hand presses desperately against the cloth she ripped from her own gown and tied around Leonard's stab wound. Blood still seeps through her fingers no matter how hard she presses.
"Please…" she whispers weakly toward the crowd gathering around them. "Please help…"
Nobody moves.
A rotten vegetable strikes her shoulder.
Another hits the side of her head.
Someone spits near her feet.
"Stay away from us!"
Then a stone crashes against her back hard enough to nearly knock her over.
But even then—Elsbeth crawls back over Leonard immediately, shielding his unconscious body with her own.
Her body shakes violently now, but she refuses to move away from him.
Leonard's breathing is shallow beneath her. Uneven. Wet.
And Luan—Luan is gone.
The bells on his motley still echo inside her head.
The crows scream louder overhead.
Then—
"MOVE!"
A voice erupts through the crowd like thunder.
Sir Rowan forces his way through the sea of people, shoving bodies aside with enough force to send men stumbling into the mud.
And then he sees them.
Elsbeth curled over Leonard's body.
Bruised. Bleeding. Still trying to protect his son.
For one horrible moment—Sir Rowan stops breathing.
"Leonard…"
The word leaves him in a broken whisper.
He rushes forward and falls to his knees beside them so hard the stones beneath him crack.
His shaking hands grab Leonard's face gently.
Too pale.
Far too pale.
Blood covers everything.
"No… no no no…"
His breathing becomes ragged instantly.
Elsbeth slowly looks up at him.
Her eyes are distant. Unfocused.
Like her mind is no longer fully here.
"I tried…" she whispers weakly. "I couldn't protect them…"
Rowan stares at the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around Leonard's side.
At the princess's trembling hands pressing the wound closed.
At the bruises spreading across her face where the crowd struck her.
Then slowly he turns toward the people surrounding them.
The grief in his eyes twists into something terrifying.
"Are you even fucking human…?"
The street falls silent.
Nobody dares answer.
"She begged you for help," Rowan says quietly.
His voice trembles.
"She begged all of you…"
A man lowers his gaze.
A woman steps backward nervously.
Another mutters, "She brought the curse—"
"CURSE?!"
Rowan's roar explodes through the street.
The crowd flinches violently.
"The only curse in this kingdom is all of YOU!"
His voice cracks apart with fury.
"You watched innocent people starve!" "You watched children suffer!" "And when someone finally tried to save another human being—"
He points at Elsbeth with a shaking hand.
"—you threw stones at her?!"
Nobody speaks.
Because standing before them now is no legendary knight.
No royal protector.
Just a father breaking apart in front of his dying son.
Rowan looks back down at Leonard.
And collapses completely.
His forehead presses shakily against Leonard's chest as blood slips through his fingers no matter how desperately he tries to stop it.
"This is my fault…"
The confession comes out shattered.
"I was supposed to protect you…"
His shoulders tremble violently.
"When your mother died… I promised her…"
His voice nearly disappears.
"I promised I'd keep you safe…"
Leonard doesn't move.
The crows continue screaming overhead.
"I failed you," Rowan whispers. "As a knight… as your father… I failed all of you…"
Tears stream openly down his face now.
"I couldn't protect Luan." "I couldn't protect the princess." "And now…"
His voice breaks entirely.
"Now I'm losing my son too…"
Then—
"MOVE, YOU MONSTERS!"
Another voice tears through the silence.
The crowd parts roughly as Erwin forces his way forward, still covered in old blood and bandages. He looks exhausted, barely standing, but his eyes burn with desperation.
One look at Leonard and he understands immediately.
"He's not dead yet!" Erwin shouts.
Rowan barely reacts.
His eyes are hollow.
"What do I do…?" Rowan whispers helplessly. "Tell me what to do…"
Erwin grabs him by the armor.
"You think now is the time to give up?!"
"I can't lose him…"
"You CAN'T lose yourself either!"
Rowan shakes violently.
"I'm useless…"
The words sound pathetic coming from a man once feared across battlefields.
"I couldn't save any of them…"
Erwin stares at him for one long second.
Then punches him across the face.
The crack echoes through the street.
Everyone freezes.
Even Rowan.
"I'm sorry," Erwin says, breathing hard. "But wake the hell up!"
He points at Leonard.
"He's still breathing!"
Another shove.
"He's still fighting!"
Erwin's own voice breaks now.
"So how dare you give up while he's still trying to live?!"
The words hit Rowan harder than the punch.
For several seconds he simply stares at Leonard's pale face.
Then something reignites behind his eyes.
Not hope.
But refusal.
Carefully— desperately— he lifts Leonard into his arms.
Leonard lets out a weak groan, blood slipping from the corner of his mouth as his head falls against Rowan's shoulder.
"Don't you die on me…" Rowan whispers shakily. "Please… your old man can't survive that…"
Behind him, Erwin kneels beside Elsbeth.
"Princess…"
No response.
She's still staring at the blood covering her hands.
At the empty street where Luan disappeared.
Erwin swallows painfully before lifting her gently into his arms.
She feels terrifyingly light.
Like someone whose soul never came back.
Then they run.
Through muddy streets. Through screaming crowds. Through the endless cries of crows beneath the rotting sky.
Rowan runs like a wounded animal, clutching Leonard tighter with every step.
"Stay with me, son…"
His voice falls apart between breaths.
"Please… please stay with me…"
Leonard's eyes flicker open weakly for only a moment.
"…thank you… for forgiving me… father…"
Then his body goes limp.
"No!"
Rowan nearly stumbles.
"Leonard! LEONARD!"
He runs faster.
As if he can outrun death itself.
Finally— Harlan's Den.
Rowan doesn't knock.
He drives his boot into the door hard enough to rip it from its hinges.
The crash shakes the entire shop.
Harlan jolts upright in terror as Rowan storms inside carrying his bleeding son.
"Save him!"
The great knight falls to his knees.
Not proudly. Not gracefully.
Desperately.
"Please…" Rowan chokes out. "Please save my son…"
Harlan stares in shock as Rowan grabs his clothes with shaking hands.
"I'll pay anything," Rowan says frantically. "Ten gold. Twenty. Thirty. I don't care! Just please save him!"
Without another word, Harlan rushes forward and pulls Leonard onto a treatment table.
Moments later, Erwin stumbles inside carrying Elsbeth.
Harlan turns— then freezes.
The princess's face is bruised. Blood stains her dress. Mud covers her knees.
But the worst part is the emptiness in her eyes.
She doesn't react. Doesn't speak. Doesn't blink.
Like something inside her has already died .
For the first time since they met him—Harlan says nothing sarcastic.
Nothing greedy.
Only:
"…Put her on the other table."
Erwin obeys carefully.
Harlan grabs a small blue vial from a nearby shelf and shoves it into Erwin's hands.
"Make her drink this."
His voice is quieter now.
"It'll force her body to sleep."
He glances at Elsbeth again.
At the girl sitting motionless with blood still drying on her hands.
"…She won't survive this night awake."
Then Harlan turns sharply toward Rowan and Leonard.
"The two of you," he growls roughly, already preparing his tools. "Get the hell out of my way and let me do my fucking work."