His voice shook the air, filled with every ounce of rage, regret, and fury inside him.
"You shouldn’t have made me remember this." His voice dropped to a chilling whisper, his eyes burning with madness.
"You shouldn’t have."
With a sudden burst of force, he launched himself upward, tearing through the air like a bullet. His sword flashed under the eerie light, his mind set on one goal of destruction.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield.
Baret’s eyes widened in horror as he watched Kael get blasted away. His heart dropped, a gut-wrenching unease filling his chest.
Memories flashed before his eyes of Kael saving him, Kael standing before him like a beacon of light in his darkest moments.
When Baret had lost everything, when despair had consumed him, Kael had come like a star piercing through an endless night.
And now he was falling.
Something inside Baret snapped.
The formation shattered as he charged forward, roaring like a beast, hacking through the undead in his path. A skeletal warrior lunged at him, but he swung his blade with raw fury, splitting it in two in one savage strike.
Another undead clawed at his side, its bony fingers tearing through his armor, but Baret didn’t stop. His muscles burned, and his body screamed in pain, but he ignored it all.
He swung, he hacked, and he tore through the horde like a madman.
A bone spear pierced his shoulder, sending a spike of agony through his nerves. Blood splattered across his face, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Because Kael couldn’t fall here.
And he refused to let it happen.
Baret stumbled forward, his vision blurring from pain and exhaustion. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to one knee. His breath was ragged, his limbs weak. He tried to rise, but his body wouldn’t listen.
Then, a cold shadow loomed over him.
His eyes lifted just in time to see a sword descending toward him—a clean strike for death. His heart pounded, a cold sweat running down his back.
His fingers twitched. His mind screamed at him to move, but his body refused to react.
"Again... like an idiot..."
He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself.
A loud impact rang out, and a sharp voice snapped through the air.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Baret’s eyes shot open just in time to see the skeleton knight get slammed aside by a shield, its bones shattering as it was dragged away. A flash of steel followed, and several more undead were cleaved apart in an instant.
Standing before him was Gare, his face twisted in fury.
Chris stood just behind, his sword dripping with blackened undead blood.
Still in shock, Baret muttered, "Chris... Gare..."
The moment he got to his feet, Gare’s forehead smashed into his.
"OUCH! Fucking hell—"
"Son of a bitch!" Gare roared. "Why the hell are you acting ?! Did you forget who we follow?!"
His words slammed into Baret like a hammer.
Gare’s sword was carved through an undead in a brutal arc, cutting it in half. "Did you forget who we’re fighting for?!"
Baret sucked in a sharp breath.
"Is this the extent of your belief?!" Gare bellowed. "Then what makes you any different from these mindless corpses?!"
Each word thundered in Baret’s ears, shaking him to his very core.
He looked around, and what he saw made his stomach drop.
The knights were struggling.
The explosion that had sent Kael flying had shaken them to their souls. Their hands trembled, their movements sluggish. Their once-unbreakable formation had crumbled, leaving them open to attack.
Their expressions were tainted with horror. Their leader, their pillar, had fallen leaving them to handle that notorious mage.
And that fear was spreading like a disease.
Weapons wavered and stances faltered. Their strength was fading.
Kael had begun to influence them, but their trust was still incomplete. They had yet to see his true might.
Gare spat on the ground. "See? You were acting just like them."
He grabbed Baret’s collar and pulled him close, their faces inches apart. "Tell me, are you worthy to follow our lord ? Aren’t you embarrassing yourself? Aren’t you disgracing him?!"
Baret’s hands clenched around his sword.
His breathing steadied.
"I... I apologize," he muttered, his grip tightening. "I showed something unsightly."
He raised his sword, a new fire burning inside him.
But just as he was about to strike—
Not just the knights.
The battlefield itself fell into silence.
A dense, suffocating killing aura rose into the air, pressing down on every living and nonliving thing.
The skies above, once dark and grey, ain’t black turned into deep crimson hues.The air grew heavy. Thick. Drenched in killing intent.
Every knight turned their heads, their faces drained of color.And then, they saw him.
Kael crawled up from behind the high platform. His steps were slow, deliberate, his back straightened.
His face was devoid of any emotion.
The usual madness in his eyes was gone.
His ever-present smirk was nowhere to be seen.
His gaze was hollow and empty like a being who had already died.
It was the look of a man who had walked through hell so many times that he no longer felt anything.
No, it was worse than that.
A shiver ran down spines. Some knights dropped their weapons out of sheer terror. Even the undead hesitated, their unnatural bodies trembling.
A single gulp echoed in the silence.
Then, Kael slowly raised his head.
His dead, hollow eyes locked onto the dark mage.
"You made me see something I didn’t want to see so.."
His voice was cold and sharp as steel that made Marconi freeze and he blurted out in shock,"So?"
Kael tilted his head.His presence alone made the air around quake and tremble.
He took one slow step forward.
The world itself seemed to shake following it.