The morning sky was cloaked in darkness, filled with choking smoke from the fires and clouds that swirled like a storm. Robert's steps were heavy, but he never slowed. The light spell glimmering faintly along his legs pushed him forward faster, even with Kael slung across his back.
He cast a glance behind him. The once-proud castle was ablaze. Servants scrambled in chaos—some desperately trying to put out the fire, others clashing with demon cultists who still poured through the corridors. The cries of steel against steel echoed even from this distance.
Robert's grip tightened around Kael, ensuring he didn't slip. Kael was still unconscious, thanks to the sleeping spell. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, but at least he didn't suffer the fear of the chaos behind them.
Several cultists broke away from the fighting and rushed to intercept Robert. His eyes narrowed, and with a sharp chant, five radiant arrows of light appeared around him. With a gesture, they shot forth, piercing through each of the cultists. All five fell to the ground, not a single shot missed.
But then, that voice came again.
The man who had been chasing him—his face hidden behind a mask, speaking with Reinhardt's voice. He laughed mockingly.
"As expected of royal blood. You do have the talent of a mage."
Robert's teeth clenched, rage flashing in his emerald eyes. "I said—stop using that voice!"
Crackling sparks surged in his palm as he chanted another spell. Lightning roared down from above, striking toward the masked man. Yet the figure leapt aside with uncanny speed, evading the attack with ease.
"Why not?" the man sneered. "Are you afraid, Robert? Afraid that behind this mask is the elder brother you loved? Afraid that he'll betray you… just like he let you live, when all your other siblings were cast aside?"
"Shut up!" Robert roared, his voice shaking with both fury and pain, as he unleashed another volley of spells.
But in his rage, he nearly overlooked the danger behind him. Another cultist lunged from the shadows, sword aimed at his back. Robert's instincts flared at the last second—he twisted, barely avoiding the blade, the wind of it slicing past his cheek.
His breath came uneven. He realized the truth—this man wasn't fighting to kill him. He was stalling, buying time for his comrades to surround him. Their numbers pressed in, more footsteps echoing through the burning trees.
Robert gritted his teeth and pushed forward, forcing his legs to carry him faster. He had to reach the forest—if he was lucky, perhaps he would find Elric there. Perhaps… help.
At last, the dense shadow of the forest greeted him. He leapt from root to branch, bounding through the trees with the speed of a hunted fox. Still, the cultists did not relent. Their black figures darted after him like a tide of crows.
"Where are you trying to run, Your Highness?" the man taunted again, his voice smooth, sharp like a dagger in Robert's ears.
Robert's brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead. Something was wrong—why could this masked man keep up with him? His speed, his presence, his voice…
For the first time, the man unsheathed a weapon—a curved blade that gleamed with dark mana. With a single swing, he cleaved through the thick tree Robert stood on.
The trunk snapped, crashing down. Robert lost his footing, his balance stolen from beneath him. But he twisted midair, forcing his body to land on his feet. The impact rattled his bones, but he softened it with a quick chant, absorbing the shock with mana.
As his boots hit the forest floor, he sensed danger above. Without hesitation, he raised a barrier around Kael and himself. A heartbeat later, blades and spells rained down from above. The barrier shook violently, cracks splintering across its glowing surface.
"Not enough," Robert hissed through clenched teeth. He raised his wand high, chanting again.
Dozens of spears of water and fire materialized, swirling like a storm above him before shooting into the sky. Screams followed as cultists were impaled one by one, their black-robed bodies falling through the branches.
But even then, more came. Their numbers didn't dwindle—it was as if the forest itself kept birthing them.
Robert's chest tightened. Pain throbbed deep inside him. He staggered, nearly dropping to one knee. His breaths came shallow, sweat stung his eyes. He had pushed his mana far past his limits, and his body screamed in protest.
Still, he pressed on. He would not fall. He would not allow Kael to be taken.
He glanced at the pale figure on his back, his lips trembling. I promised… I'll protect you.
His knuckles whitened around his wand, his heart pounding like a war drum as the cultists closed in again.
Robert staggered through the dense forest, his vision blurring with every step. He could feel it—the mana inside him was draining rapidly, and the pain in his chest throbbed sharper with each breath. He pressed a hand against his chest, gasping, but still forced himself onward.
I can't fall. Not yet… not when he still needs me.
His body was screaming, but his resolve remained unbroken. He whispered another chant, weaving a spell through trembling lips. A thick smoke screen erupted around him, cloaking the trees in a gray haze and obscuring the enemy's sight.
Taking advantage of the cover, Robert ran again, though his pace had slowed drastically. Every step made Kael feel heavier on his back, as though the world itself had doubled its weight to crush him. His heart pounded erratically, his breaths sharp and uneven.
Finally, he spotted a towering oak, its roots sprawling wide. Robert lowered himself, gently placing Kael against the tree's trunk. Kael remained in deep slumber, his face pale but peaceful. Robert brushed damp strands of white hair from his cheek, his fingers trembling.
"I'll… protect you," Robert whispered, his voice hoarse, his breath unsteady.
He stood again, but this time he let go of his wand. Instead, with a grim expression, he summoned a spear into his hands. The weapon shimmered faintly with his remaining mana. His stance was uneven, but his determination sharpened his movements.
From the mist, shadows emerged. The cultists had circled around them, their masks glowing faintly with runes, blades raised.
"A mage wielding a spear?" one of them sneered. "How unbefitting."
Robert exhaled slowly, ignoring their mockery. He had no mana to waste on their words. His body already threatened to collapse. He needed to save every ounce of strength.
The first of the masked figures lunged at him. Robert's spear cut through the mist, slicing the man down in a single, practiced motion. Another cultist followed, only to fall under a swift spin and thrust.
The leader, still cloaked in Reinhardt's stolen voice, clapped mockingly. "Impressive. As expected from the Emperor's brother… the former Hero's shadow. But don't think we'll let you keep him. Attack him now—he's already weak!"
The cultists charged. Robert's spear moved like a silver streak, deflecting steel, cutting through flesh. Each strike was sharp, efficient, without wasted motion. For a moment, it was as though the forest itself bowed to his will.
One by one, the robed men fell. But for every enemy slain, another stepped forward. His strength was dwindling. His chest ached with unbearable pressure, and his grip on the spear faltered. Still, he pushed forward, cutting down his foes until only three remained.
Then it struck.
A stabbing pain ripped through his chest like a knife. His body stiffened, his vision swam. The spear slipped from his trembling hands, falling to the wet earth with a dull thud.
Robert clutched his chest with one hand, staggering. His heart hammered irregularly, each beat heavier, slower, more painful than the last.
The cultist leader's laughter rang through the trees, cruel and cold. "Well, well… What a fine fight, Prince Robert." He stepped forward leisurely, savoring Robert's agony.
Rain began to fall, pattering softly at first, then growing heavier. The droplets mixed with the sweat and blood on Robert's skin, streaking his face. He collapsed to his knees, one hand pressed desperately against his chest, the other stretching out weakly toward Kael's still form.
"No…" he gasped, tears spilling freely down his cheeks. His trembling hand clawed toward Kael's side, fingers barely brushing the hem of Kael's cloak. I promised…
The remaining cultists advanced, blades gleaming. Robert tried to rise, but his body refused to obey.
Then—
SHHHK!
An arrow pierced one cultist cleanly through the neck. He dropped with a strangled gasp. Another arrow followed, striking the second square in the chest. The last cultist raised a shield in panic, but was struck down by a rain of enchanted arrows, their bodies crumpling to the ground in lifeless heaps.
The leader snarled, raising a barrier just in time to block the volley. "You bastard—!"
From above, stepping down through the rain-soaked branches with her bow drawn, came Elric. Her silver hair clung to her face, her eyes sharp as blades. She landed lightly on the forest floor, her gaze locking on Robert and Kael.
"Stay away from them," she said, her voice steady, cold as steel despite the storm raging around them.
The cult leader hissed in frustration, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he readied his blade once more.
But Robert, collapsed and trembling in the mud, looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes. Relief washed over his face, though his lips barely managed to form the words:
"Elric…"
Elric stepped forward, standing between Robert's crumpled body and the masked cult leader. Her silver hair stuck to her face, water trailing down her cheekbones like cold tears. Her bow was already in her hand, the string taut, her remaining mana pooling into her fingertips.
Though her right arm still bore burns from the earlier battle, blistered and raw, she forced it steady. The pain was secondary. She couldn't falter here.
The cult leader raised his sword, crimson light flickering along its blade. His laughter carried over the storm.
"So this is the famed Duke Vaelthorn. Injured, outnumbered… and still daring to stand in my way?"
Elric's expression was unreadable, her eyes narrowing with icy focus.
"I don't need to stand long. I only need to kill you."
With that, she loosed her first arrow. It wasn't wood and steel, but pure mana, summoned from the void itself. The glowing projectile streaked through the rain like a falling star.
The leader swung his sword in a wide arc, the blade's energy slicing the arrow apart before it could reach him. Sparks exploded between them, illuminating his mask.
"Tch. A bow against a sword? You'll regret this, woman." He lunged forward, the ground splashing beneath his boots.
Elric leapt back, her feet barely touching the ground as another arrow formed on her string. She released. The leader deflected it with his blade, closing the distance with terrifying speed. His sword slashed downward, the force shaking the earth.
She rolled aside, mud splattering across her cheek, and fired three arrows in succession. One grazed his shoulder, the other shattered against his guard, the last burying itself into his thigh.
The cult leader snarled, his movements slowing for a heartbeat, but his aura flared, burning away the wound with raw mana. "You'll need more than that to stop me."
Elric's breath came sharp and quick. Her injured arm screamed with every draw, but her gaze never wavered. She circled him, arrows forming one after another, each glowing brighter in the storm.
He pressed her harder, sword striking with relentless force. Sparks lit up the rain each time steel met mana. She ducked beneath his slash, rolled, and fired an arrow point-blank. It pierced through his shoulder, forcing him back.
"You—!" he spat, blood mixing with rain.
But Elric had already drawn her final arrow, pouring the last of her strength into it. The arrow glowed crimson-white, brighter than lightning itself. She raised her bow, her voice steady despite the pain:
"This ends now."
She loosed it.
The arrow screamed through the storm, tearing the air apart. The cult leader swung desperately to block—but the arrow pierced straight through his chest, shattering his barrier, his weapon, and his heart in one strike. His scream echoed briefly before his body crumpled into the mud, lifeless.
The forest fell silent except for the rain.
Elric lowered her bow, her chest heaving. She turned immediately, rushing to Robert's side.
He was pale, his lips trembling as he fought to keep consciousness. His hand still gripped his chest, but his strength was fading fast. Elric knelt, cradling his shoulders.
"Robert… your heart…" Her voice cracked with urgency. She already knew—Robert had always been frail. His heart could only endure so much strain, and using his mana recklessly brought him to the edge of death.
Robert tried to smile weakly, but it came out as a grimace. His body shook violently.
"Young… Master…" His hand trembled as it reached toward Kael, lying unconscious beneath the tree. "Take him… After I faint… the spell… will be broken…"
"Elric, don't you dare—stay with me!" she shook him gently, panic rising in her chest. But his eyes fluttered closed, his body going limp in her arms.
"Robert!"
His breathing was shallow, his skin clammy. His face was ghostly pale, drained of life. Elric bit her lip, trying to shake him awake again, but his body did not respond.
Just then, the sound of boots splashing through the mud echoed from deeper in the forest. Elric raised her head sharply, bow ready once more—until familiar voices cut through the storm.
"Lady Elric!"
Albert emerged with his squad, weapons drawn. The sight of Robert made his eyes widen. He rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside them.
"He needs a healer immediately!" Albert's voice thundered with urgency. Without hesitation, he lifted Robert onto his back, holding him as gently as possible despite the chaos around them.
Elric, still kneeling in the mud, swallowed hard. "The castle… I saw it burning when I came. We don't have much time."
Albert's eyes widened further, his jaw clenching. "Then we need to hurry—"
But he stopped. His gaze, along with every soldier's, turned slowly toward Kael.
Kael stirred. His fingers twitched against the wet soil. His eyelashes fluttered as his eyes, crimson gold, slowly opened. The sleeping spell that Robert had placed on him unraveled the moment Robert fainted.
For the first time since the ambush, Kael's eyes were awake.