Chapter 4:
The Battle of Zofia
Deliverance Hideout
Even at night, the shrine of Mila gave off a soft light that permeated towards the hideout. It gave little comfort to the Deliverance however. The constant moanings of Terrors only increased as the night went on. Some soldiers slept normally, some lost consciousness eventually due to exhaustion, and some never could sleep.
The golden-haired noble was among the latter, though the sounds of those brutish creatures were admittedly the least of her annoyances. As Clair left her sleeping quarters (though in truth it was nothing more than a shoddy alcove, hardly noble-like), he couldn't help but crack a frown at the thought of the two men that aggravated her to no end.
"Oh Fernand." She finally sighed out, to no one in particular. "Why couldn't you see sense? Why couldn't you stay?"
Her mind wandered to those scant hours ago, though to her it felt like it only occurred a few seconds past.
"I shall take no more part in this….in this madness." The noble said, angrily pushing his friend towards the wall. "You have tainted this Deliverance to the point that I can no longer recognize it, and I will follow it no longer."
"Fernand…" Clive said. "Please calm down, this change is the best for everyone. We need someone who can rally the commoners as well as the nobility, he's Sir Mycen's grandson and…"
His attempts at calming him only made him more furious. "Curse Sir Mycen and whatever whelp he was birthed from. The fact that you let a boy, and a common-born boy at that, lead this army is a farce in itself. I will not stand around and see this army crumble because an inexperienced child led it to its doom, Clive. I will not."
"Fernand…"
The two friends stared at each other, the others in the room remaining in an awkward silence, before Fernand finally let go of his friend and began to walk out.
"Fernand, wait…" Clair started to say, but he merely turned his head towards her, the fury in his eyes making her flinch. He didn't even bother to say anything before storming out of the room.
The memory still stung her, and despite the cheerful face she put on in front of her brother and Alm, she was still deeply hurt at his leaving. In the end, the grudge of his family's death still runs deep, deep enough to abandon both Clive and her.
As she walked around the hideout quietly, unsure as to her purpose, she noticed that she wasn't the only one awake at this late hour. She could hear vague sounds, whispers in the distance. She could see a low fire, embers still emitting a faint light, and a figure poking with a stick, another quickly approaching him.
"So, they all asleep?" The voice poking the fire asked.
"Yep. Though honestly, I'm surprised anyone can with all the Terrors." The other voice responded, sitting opposite him. His face revealed himself to be Tobin, which meant the other figure is…
Anger suddenly welled up in her again. Gray's attempt at wooing and courting her were unsubtle and ungentlemanly like, to say the least. She didn't regret rejecting him.
Except…
True, she was angry at him to a degree, but she admittedly sounded much harsher to him than intended. The stress of her brother and Fernand fighting, on top of his departure, just made her much more irritable when he inevitably came to shower her with more empty compliments. Truth be told, pestering aside he actually respected the man and his abilities, but the words she said to him back then still held true.
"Heh, this reminds me of the time we used to sneak out as kids." Gray said, with fondness in his voice. "We almost got caught a couple times, but we never did."
"I always thought that they just allowed us to sneak out." Tobin responded, cracking a wry smile. "I remember when we sneaked some ale just to find out what it tasted like. Honestly, I hated the stuff."
"Yeahh, I was the only one who liked it, guess I'm the mature of the group." Gray said jokingly, and they both laughed. "Ahhh…you know, I'm really glad you're here. It's nice to be able to just say what I want to, no need to hide anything."
"Speaking of hiding something, what exactly happened back at dinner?" Tobin asked. "Don't tell me we believed you're alright with how glum you looked back there."
Clair was eavesdropping, and she realized that she should have left and forget about the conversation, especially one this personal. But something, be it curiosity or something else, compelled her to stay and listen.
"I was that obvious, huh?" Gray said sadly. "Alright, but promise not to tell anyone else. You're the only one I can talk to this about."
Tobin nodded, and Gray continued. "Well when I was getting food, I bumped into Clair and uh…well, let's just say things didn't go so well."
"Since when have things between you and Clair have ever gone well?" Tobin said.
"Yeah, but this time it's worse." Gray responded, sounding genuinely hurt. "She told me never to speak to her again, and I think she really meant it."
Out of their sight, Clair was pondering his words. It's true, she demanded he never spoke to her again, but once she cooled down, she wondered how much of her statement was true and how much was it blind anger at recent circumstances? It's not as if he was actively trying to offend her, and truth be told there was a certain…something…to his unsightly attempts at wooing her, she just wasn't sure what.
Did she truly want him out of her sight? She didn't have the answer at the moment.
"Ouch." Tobin responded. "But let's face it, women like that are out of our league. We'd be lucky to even work under her in normal circumstances, let alone work with her. Still, you're taking this way harder than I'd imagine."
"That's because I'm actually in love with her." Gray said, almost to the point of waking everyone in the hideout. "I don't know why, and I don't know how, but I'm just…drawn to her, you know? I can't help it."
Clair kept her silence in order to remain discreet, but if she was somehow caught by the two, she still wouldn't know what to say.
"Huh. You really mean it." The archer said, surprised. This was the first time Gray brought up any romantic feelings, and for him to be this sincere about it was most likely a sign of it's authenticity, however absurd it may be. "Well, what are you going to do now?"
"What she told me to, never talk to her again." Gray responded sullenly. "I don't want to, but what choice do I have? If that's what she really wants, then I might as well respect that."
Clair didn't have the heart to eavesdrop on their conversation anymore; she quietly went back to her own quarters to think things over while the two men continued their conversation by the fire. Turning around, she saw a silver haired figure eyeing her, with an annoyed look on his face. Kliff. They stared at each other for a moment, before he shrugged and went back to his sleeping area.
Sitting on her sleeping straws, she lay down; finally feeling exhausted enough to sleep. But her mind kept trailing off to that conversation, and how hurt Gray sounded. She thought a good long while, and realized that what she had been insensitive and rude, rather unbecoming of a lady.
She wouldn't reciprocate his feelings, her sights were set on Alm and Alm alone, but she would, when the opportunity arises, confront him and apologize. She may never be his, but she could still be his friend and fellow soldier, she thought of as much.
Dawn cracked as the Deliverance headed out of the hideout en masse, glad to be leave the Terrors to their dens. None stayed as per Clive's orders. Everyone here knew the situation; they would take Castle Zofia or die trying.
As always, the Ram Villagers traveled together, with the ever increasing absence of Alm, and Faye, who had gone scouting with the other pegasi knights. The group kept their silence as they marched along the plains, the army separating into numerous splintered fractions in order to hide their actual numbers from Desaix's forces.
"So…no one spoke to Alm this morning?" Tobin asked at last, breaking the silence. The rest of the group nodded. "Oh…"
"Python told me that Alm's got something important to tell us before we fight in Zofia." Gray responded, hand on his hip. "Don't know what that "something important" is though, could be bad."
Lukas, who was beside them, cracked a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he wants to bring the news to you all himself because you're his friend, and I can assure you the news is for the best."
Tobin and Gray simply looked at each other in bewilderment before continuing the march, each step taken a step closer to Castle Zofia. Tension was building up among the ranks. A climatic battle will soon be upon them.
Within the throne room of Castle Zofia, Desaix was comfortably enjoying his new seat of power. Sipping from the late king's goblet, the chancellor wondered why he didn't kill the fool sooner. It didn't matter in the end, he though, Rigel would soon take all of Zofia and he'll be lavished with all the prestige as the new King of Zofia.
"Hah, are you watching from hell, Lima? Watch as I burn away any traces of your pathetic reign." He said with a wry smirk on his portly face.
"Sir!" A voice called out as Curtis, the man he placed in charge of Zofia's guards marched in, two of his castle guards dragging a man in, his face covered by a sack. "We've found this man sneaking into the castle."
Curtis pulled away to reveal Fernand, his eyes empty of purpose. He looked at Desaix and growled.
Desaix wasn't intimidated at all, though he was surprised. "Well, this is rather unexpected. I thought you would be with Clive the rest of the Deliverance, Sir Fernand."
Fernand simply spat out, raw anger in his voice. "The "Deliverance" I was once a part of is no more, filled with baseborn curs and upstart commoners, Clive has given away his pride as a nobleman and placed Sir Mycen's grandson as its new leader."
Those last few words made Desaix jump from the throne. "What? Sir Mycen's…" He managed to withhold his tongue from Fernand, uneasy as to what to think of this. After a few moments, he made another smirk. Supposed spawn of Mycen or no, he still won't be able to take this castle. Still, there was the matter of the captured noble before him.
"There, I've spoken what I wish to. Now execute me and be done with it." Fernand said, hanging his head up high. He would die a deserter, but not a traitor.
"No…" Desaix said after a bit of thinking, much to surprise of everyone in the room. "In fact, untie him."
Curtis wanted to voice and objection, but meekly did as he was told, undoing the bonds around Fernand. The silver haired prisoner was unamused. "Is this some sort of jest? Do you intend to torture me?
"Hardly, my friend." Desaix responded in a faux respecting tone. "As a fellow champion of nobility, I believe we both have the same goals in mind, now there is someone I'd like you to meet."
Standing from the throne, he walked towards a nearby door, and Fernand silently followed. Opening it, he could see two figures dancing. One of them was a man dressed in all black armor, his well kept black hair and sharp eyes making for a fair face. The other was a woman was wearing a well made sapphire dress that matched her eyes, and a fur coat outside it. Both exuded an aura of regality.
As they joined and parted and twirled, Fernand couldn't help but be mesmerized by their movements, as though they were trying to entrance him on purpose. The male flashed him a glance and he felt himself shiver.
As last, they stopped, and the couple turned to look at him, a smile on their faces. Without even being prompted, Fernand approached them.
"Alright, here's the plan." Alm laid out as the Deliverance vanguard camped just outside of Castle Zofia, it's white walls glistening orange from the sunset. The rest of the army was hiding out in a nearby forest, once again to hide their actual numbers.
Lukas, Clive, Clair, Python and Forsyth were present, as are the Ram Villagers. "We need to take the archers patrolled on the wall of the castle. Once we do, our pegasus riders can swoop in and harass their ranks while our ground forces push in. Our intelligence reports that Desaix himself lacks any air support, so we'll use that against him."
"Not bad, kid." Python remarked, with Forsyth barely restraining himself with reprimanding him for his couth demeanor. Then again, this meeting war really just for show more than anything, they all knew the plan. "But there's one hiccup in this plan of yours, how are we going to take down those archers?"
"There's a secret passage towards the Castle that no one knows about." Clive remarked "Built to secretly escape Castle Zofia, its existence entrusted only to…certain members of the knights of Zofia, I among them. It leads directly to the keep, which connects directly to the walls."
"That's what we'll use. A small unit to both remove the archers and throw open the gates. Once we're done, we can circle back to the keep while Desaix is busy with the men outside, and flank them from two ends."
He then turned to Clive. "I'll lead the group heading into the keep. Clive, seeing as how you're the most experienced among us, I request you to lead the outside forces, and to coordinate with both my group and the pegasus riders."
Clive bowed slightly. "It will be by honor." They
"As for my unit, Phyton, Silque, Tobin, Gray, Lukas and Kliff will be with me." Alm said, much to the surprise of the Ram Villagers.
"Hey, Alm?" Tobin said. "Are you sure you want us? I'm sure there are much more…you know, experienced knights that could do this."
"Perhaps." Alm said, smiling confidently. "But I don't know them as much as I know my friends, and I don't trust them with my life as much as I trust you all. You'll all be my personal unit in the Deliverance, which was the only thing I demanded when I became leader. So, are you guys with me?"
Tobin was just about to voice another objection before Gray cut him off, excited. "Like you even need to ask us, dummy. We've got your back."
Alm bowed in appreciation before they got back to their discussion of timings and positions. They then dismissed to individually prepare for the battle ahead. Clair wanted to call out for Gray, but he left before she could speak anything. Instead, Faye approached her and smiled.
"Well, guess we're working together, Clair." Faye said in a neutral tone.
"I-Indeed, consider it an honor, Lady Faye. Now, let us go and prepare ourselves for the coming battle." Clair said. There'll be time for apologies later, now they have a kingdom to take back.
Zofia Keep, Interior
Python was hugged up against a wall, peeking ever so carefully around the corner. The door to the walls was behind there, and two guards were guarding the entrance to the walls above. He motioned over to the rest, two fingers outward to indicate the number of threats, and then he prepared his bow in silence.
In a flash, he sidestepped the corner and loosened his bowstring, the arrow sent flying over to one of the guard's neck. The other only had a split second before Tobin's arrow was struck in his neck, preventing him from screaming. Both slumped on the floor dead in seconds, the first casualties.
"Up there leads to the walls." Python said, memorizing the map of the keep, as well as usual patrol routes. It was one of the tasks that surprisingly didn't require much effort on his end, though even if it was he'd still be forced to do it. "No turning back now."
"I'll lead the charge." Alm said, brandishing his metal shield. "Ranged units, cover me and take out any distant archers. Lukas, Gray, cover my sides and make sure nothing gets through our line. Silque, heal anyone who gets injured immediately. Are you all with me?"
The rest of the group nodded, Lukas nodded with a look of stoic determination, Gray and Python smirked, and Kliff simply gave his trademark frown. Alm couldn't help but feel confident in his group.
"Alright then Deliverance, let's go." Alm remarked before marching towards the stairs.
Once they got up there, there was merely utter surprise as the group reached up. Arrows and magic were immediately sent flying towards the guards, who were still looking beyond the horizon. Once their moment of surprise was gone, the guards frantically tried to scream and attack back.
Utter chaos ensued as Alm's group raced towards the wall. Time was of the essence, and they couldn't afford to waste a single second. Blocking an arrow with his shield, he swung his blade at a charging guard, cutting the pole of the lance before ending it with a backwards slash to the chest.
Two more charged at the group, but were immediately dealt with by a blast of fire that sent them falling from the walls. Kliff prepared another incantation as lightning struck a nearby group of archers, sending them flying.
Lukas and Gray were fending off more melee attackers. Gray parried a blow from an oncoming enemy before swiftly stabbing him in the chest, while Lukas was already thrusting his spear at a downed enemy, finishing him off.
As they fought under the sunset, the enemy was pushing back and getting more desperate. One person even dropped his weapon and surrendered, but was met with an arrow from Python. Now wasn't the time for prisoners, now wasn't the time for mercy.
"Alright." Alm said as he wiped sweat from his brow, his sword bloody. The last of the guards were killed or disabled, Lukas was walking around, checking for survivors. "Let's get the gate open."
Castle Zofia, Knight's Meeting Room
Tracing his fingers over the familiar elm table, Fernand quietly looked around the empty room, to a world that seemed not so long ago yet infinitely farther away, a time when he laughed, where he smiled.
He was surprised to know that he had free rein over the Castle, save for escaping. Whether it was Desaix or Lord Berkut's decision didn't matter to him. Even if escape was possible, where would he go? The life he wanted to have was no longer there.
"Father, Mother. What do I do?" Fernand whispered softly, remembering their warm faces, their gentle smiles. But at the end of that chain was a different face. Closed eyelids, blood all over, beaten and trampled to the point where they could barely be recognized.
He gritted his teeth once more at the bitterness, desperately fighting back the urge to lunge at something, anything. Knighthood, charity, kindness, what did it all gave him in the end? A dead family, at the hands of the people he himself treated with those gentle virtues.
"They whine and complain even as we try to share their burden, their pain." He said to no one in particular or perhaps for everyone to hear. "We gave them food, and they repay us with bodies. Spoiled scoundrels, the lot of them. Damn them all!"
"It wasn't their fault" A familiar voice called out in his head, the voice of a friend. "They were desperate, and they didn't know what to do."
"And what would you have done, Clive, were you in my situation?" He lashed out. "Would you have just stood there and forgive as the commoners ripped your sister to shreds? Or your beloved? Where does the line end?"
As his voiced echoed out throughout the empty chamber, he took a seat he would have back when Zofia was still at peace, Clive and Mathilda at his side.
He recalled happier times, him and Mathilda reassuring Clive, the three spending countless hours discussing about the betterment of Zofia, for both noble and common, and for once in a very long time, he smiled. He couldn't help but yearn for those days, for when bitterness didn't have such a vice on his heart.
His brief happiness was broken when someone entered the chamber. It wasn't someone he recognized, so he must have assumed he was Rigellian. "You are to come with me now, Lord Berkut has summoned you."
Silently, he stood up and followed the guard. He took little pleasure in being told what to do, but he had to admit Lord Berkut made an immense impression of him, which only furthered during their first conversation, where he spouted about the importance of the nobility over the common folk, as though he knew exactly what to say to get him to listen.
He found himself near the top of the castle, the sun slowly setting down. Lord Berkut and Rinea were watching below, where sounds of battle were raging on. "It seems your little worms have arrived sooner than anticipated."
Taking a look for himself, he could see that the Deliverance was indeed fighting Desaix's forces. He could vaguely make out Desaix's figure, barking orders as Deliverance cavalry marched through the gates and engaged the defensive lines.
"It seems the gates weren't forced open, I wonder how they did it." Berkut asked, more perplexed than angry. Fernand, who knew about the secret passages, kept silent. "It makes no matter, whether Desaix wins or loses is of little consequence to me." He raised his arms to the sky. "Soon this world will be ours, dear Rinea, to shape how we see fit."
Rinea said nothing for a while, flustered, before meekly responding. "All I wish is to be by your side, my lord."
Berkut turned to face him, a sinister smirk on his face. "It can also be your world as well, Fernand. A world where nobles are undisputedly superior, where commoners dare not even think of defiance. Is that not a world you wish for?"
"Deliverance! March on. Fight until Desaix's head rolls on the floor." Tobin heard someone shout, not that he heeded it much. Alm's group had finally fought their way out of the keep and into the courtyard.
Thankfully security had been lax, even more so when the gate threw opened and Zofian cavalry marched in. Still, he felt his arms ache a little, and his head wasn't entirely functional, but he pushed it aside. The battle isn't over yet.
As expected, the lack of any air support meant the downfall for Desaix's ranks. Wave after wave, Clair and Faye swooped down and swung their lances swift and true, and men fell in droves as they continued their aerial assault, their pegasi too fast to be hit by swords or axes. This, coupled with the cavalry charge, would have broken most.
But not this enemy. Whether it was experience, anger, or even fear, they continued to hold the line against the cavalry charge, sticking out spears to fell horses, their riders soon joining them. Rigellian cantors assisted, sending dark miasma to cripple men, clutching at their throats as the life escaped them.
Still, they were being pressed hard, and with Alm's appearance, the morale of the Deliveranced soared. They attacked the side of the line, their part of the battle being nothing more than running the enemy ragged while the rest charge in.
Tobin launched another arrow into the throat of another soldier, his twentieth kill. Immediately he went for another in a rhythm of tightening and loosing his bowstring, only stopping to dodge incoming fire or to get a better shot.
He notched another arrow from his quiver and aimed at a person, but just as he was about to fire a flash of white swooped in and stabbed him in the chest. Faye took a quick glance at Tobin, before nodding gently and taking for the skies, out of reach and looking for the next target. He also glanced a bit at Clair swooping down and knocking several men off their feet, an elegant sight that he'd enjoy if not for the fact that he was preoccupied.
"Damn it." Alm shouted, snapping back at his attention. "Those Cantors are giving us trouble. Archers, focus your fire on them. We'll hold them off."
Heeding the order, Tobin aimed at a nearby Cantor and loosed his arrow, hitting him straight in the neck as blood oozed out from him, his purple eyes softening. If this were his first battle, he might have reviled in horror. Now he simply notched another arrow and tried to find his next target.
Slowly but surely Desaix's forces were being pushed back further and further, their morale almost at the breaking point. Desperate, the enemy forces started charging through their lines haphazardly, some breaking through. A soldier charged through a hole in the line aiming for him specifically, only to be cut down by Gray, who simply smiled at him and turned his attention back.
"This is almost too easy." Tobin thought. "Maybe I shouldn't have worried so much after all."
Desaix was fuming. How could some upstart rebellion be causing so much trouble? He wrenched an officer by the throat and demanded. "HOW ARE YOU FAILING?"
"S-sir." The officer whimpered. "We have no archers left, and the Cantors are nearly exhausted. We don't have anyone left who can deal with those two fliers. They keep disrupting our ranks."
Forcefully pushing him aside, not caring that his head hit the wall with a visible crack. He walked out and surveyed the battle, gritting his teeth. He will not be made a mockery in front of the Lord Berkut, not when his place as the new ruler of Zofia was so close. Many thought Desaix a coward who only knew how to hide behind others, oh how he will prove them wrong.
"Some things you have to do yourself." He said, teeth still gritting. He took a spear and looked at the sky, where two winged menaces were zipping about, the cause of all this trouble. Bracing himself, he took a deep breath and focused, waiting for the perfect time.
The lines were barely holding, yet he still waited…
His Cantors were being pinned by enemy fire, yet he still waited…
Lord Berkut was looking down at him, disappointed. Yet he still waited…
"RAAHHHH!"
With a shout and an almost monstrous strength, he hurled the spear up. It zipped through the winds like a bird of prey and struck a pegasus, ripping off its left wing, desperately trying to keep its golden haired rider afloat.
It failed, landing harshly down right below Desaix. The chancellor smirked as Clair was pinned down by the corpse of her mount, struggling to get out. The other pegasus rider wisely fled back to the Deliverance, fearful of another javelin toss.
"Haha, now we'll show Clive the price for daring to oppose ME!" Desaix roared out as the men regained some semblance of morale. Brandishing his large lance, he stepped down from his podium, smiling gleefully as he did so. "This one is mine."
The look on Clair's face could be none other than one of fear as she saw him approach, she tried desperately to get flee, but her legs were still pinned. As he approached her, she closed her eyes and prayed to Mila that her death would be quick.
"In better times, I would have simply taken you away, but you've irritated me too much, girl." Desaix growled, spear raised high. "Now die!"
"Is this how it ends? Clive, I'm so sorry". She bemoaned in her mind, expecting those to be the last thoughts she'd ever had.
"STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
Gray's heart sunk as he saw Clair plummet from the sky, like an angel falling to earth. Worse still, she was straight in the middle of the enemy. Timed seemed to stop as she hit the ground, but the swordsman rushed towards her before it even happened, not caring about anything, not the battle at hand, not the enemy, all that mattered was that she was in danger.
"Clair!" He shouted futilely, rushing towards her, not caring that what enemy was in his way. "I have to protect her" was the only thought that raced through his mind as he charged the enemy, two spearman locking shields. She only had a few seconds left
"Out of my way!" He sputtered as he aimed the lightning shaped blade forward, the sky seeming to blacken as the blade crackled and shot out a single blot, blasting one of the spearmen away. The other one, unaffected by his comrade's death, charged forward with his spear while he was still channeling, but was struck by an arrow.
Gray turned slightly around to see Tobin, who simply shouted. "Damn it, go get her. Alm told us to cover for you!"
"Heh, thanks buddy." He thought. To Alm, or Tobin, he didn't know. Probably both.
Gray nodded at his best friend before charging again. Arrows and fire raced past him towards the enemy lines, creating a hole for him. He saw that a person was about to skewer her on a lance. Anger and desperation building up, he increased his speed.
"STAY AWAY FROM HER!" He shouted out as he barely blocked the spear, the force of the blow feeling like nothing else. Still, he saved her, if only for the moment.
"Gray…" Clair whispered as she opened her eyes. Desaix, however, was annoyed at this sudden turn of events.
"Who are you to interrupt me?" He shouted as he slammed the spear down once again, the blow forcing Gray down on one knee. "Stupid commoner, know you place."
Another blow, the tiles around Gray's feet started to crack, and he felt as though an entire waterfall was swarming on him at once. Another blow, he grunted in pain as he felt it. Another blow and the grunt became a shout as he felt his knee break. Yet he still stood.
"Hmph, just die already." Desaix barked, slamming his spear down another time, Gray barely blocking. His consciousness was getting blurry, his knee was internally shattered, and he still held. Whether from foolhardy arrogance or some diving force, he didn't know nor did he care. All he cared about was keeping her safe. Another blow, and another, and another, for what seemed like hours he struck at him, and he did not fall.
Clair was staring at him, tears visible in the corner of her eyes. She was saying something, but he couldn't hear what it is, he was too tired. Another strike would be the end of him, the end of them both. But he still kneeled defiantly.
"I…won't…let you touch her…" He growled out. Desaix simply raised his spear, determined to end it…
…until an arrow went whizzing towards him, barely blocked by his Dracoshield in time. He finally turned around to the battlefield and saw that the damage was done. His army's lines were irrevocably broken and they would soon be upon him.
"Damn. I must withdraw." He muttered, but not before giving Gray one last gaze. "Consider yourself lucky, boy. Next we meet, I'll show you pain the likes you've never felt before."
As he ran away, what remained of his men tagging along, surrendering or being killed, Clair finally mustered the strength to left her mount slight enough to get off, and immediately rushed to her savior. He was still kneeling, and breathing hard. Blood formed around his arm and his leg was shaking. His eyes closed, then opened, then close…
He finally fell towards the ground, and Clair's heart stopped.
And that's where we'll end it. This took longer than usual thanks to it being a longer than usual chapter. Next time, we'll see both the repercussions and benefits of Alm taking up leadership. Till then –ArcanaHermit