Rokar loomed over me, his towering frame blotting out the pale moonlight until the forest seemed to dim around us. His shadow swallowed me whole, pressing down like a physical weight, making the air in my lungs feel thick and scarce.
The spear in his hand rose slowly, deliberately—no rush, no urgency—before leveling straight at my chest. The chipped metal tip caught a sliver of light, its edge still dark with old stains that I didn't want to imagine.
Then he laughed.
Not a loud, savage sound.
Not the roar of a beast.
It was low. Controlled. Certain.
The kind of laugh a hunter gives when the chase is over—when the prey is already cornered, already broken, and running has long since stopped.
My breath hitched.
I tried to push myself up, palms pressing into the dirt, but my arms trembled violently. My legs refused to cooperate. Every muscle screamed in protest, drained from fear, pain, and exhaustion.
"Arthur—RUN!"
Charlie's shout tore through the chaos like a blade.
I flinched instinctively, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.
Rokar moved.
There was no warning—no flourish, no wasted motion.
The spear shot forward in a brutal, straight-line thrust, aimed to kill in a single strike. The air screamed as the tip cut through it, moonlight flashing along the sharpened edge as it closed the distance between us in a heartbeat.
My thoughts vanished.
No fear. No plan. Only instinct.
I threw myself sideways.
Hard.
My shoulder slammed into the forest floor as the spear tore past where my chest had been a fraction of a second earlier. The impact drove the weapon deep into the ground behind me with a violent crack, the force strong enough to make the earth shudder.
If I had hesitated—
Even for a breath—
I would already be dead.
I lay there gasping, chest heaving uncontrollably.
Too close.
Way too close.
I scrambled backward, hands clawing at the earth, breath coming out in broken, uneven bursts. I had no plan. No idea what to do.
Rokar straightened slowly.
The muscles along his arms and shoulders bulged, veins standing out beneath the tattooed skin. He twisted the spear once, loosening it from the ground, then came at me again.
Another thrust came without warning.
I barely saw it—only felt the rush of air as I threw myself sideways again, leaves and dirt tearing into my skin. The spear slammed into the ground where my chest had been a heartbeat earlier, the impact shuddering up my arms as I scrambled away.
It missed again by inches.
My lungs burned like they were on fire. Each breath came out jagged and shallow, scraping painfully through my chest. No matter how hard I sucked in air, it never felt like enough—like my body was already betraying me, already slowing down.
Rokar chuckled.
"Graah… skra-run like mice." (You run like a mouse.)
His grin widened.
"Skra-fast. Skra-smart." (Fast. Smart.)
---
Behind me—
Charlie and Vaela clashed again.
Charlie was being pushed back relentlessly.
Flames burst from his palms, scorching bark and leaves, but Vaela never stopped moving. She circled him, arrows flashing, metal glinting as she denied him even a second to focus.
Charlie roared, veins standing out along his neck as he thrust both palms forward.
Two compressed blasts of fire tore through the air toward Vaela, spiraling violently as they closed in—
Then, driven by pure desperation, he twisted mid-cast and hurled another blazing shot toward Rokar.
Vaela reacted instantly.
She dove behind a thick tree, the fire screaming past her shoulder so close that the heat singed the edge of her leather armor. Bark exploded into embers as the flames tore through the trunk, but she was already moving again, rolling low and repositioning with terrifying speed.
Rokar didn't even bother to retreat.
He twisted his torso lazily, letting the fire rush past him. The heat washed over his bare skin, rippling the air—but he didn't flinch. The flames dispersed behind him, licking uselessly at the forest floor.
Slowly, deliberately, Rokar straightened.
A wide grin split his face.
Not impressed.
Amused.
As if Charlie's desperate attack had been nothing more than a child throwing sparks at a bonfire.
Vaela reappeared in a flash of motion.
One heartbeat she was behind the tree—
the next, she was already moving.
A metal dagger left her hand in a blur, spinning end over end as it tore through the air.
Straight at Charlie.
Charlie barely had time to react. He twisted his torso sharply, instinct screaming, and the dagger sliced past his chest with a hiss, close enough that he felt the cold kiss of metal graze his clothes. The blade buried itself into a tree behind him with a dull thunk.
He didn't even have time to exhale.
Fire flared instinctively in his palm as he tried to gather energy—
Too slow.
Vaela was already there.
She closed the distance in a single step, her movements compact and ruthless. Her fist drove into his ribs with crushing force.
The impact knocked the breath clean out of him.
Charlie coughed violently, the sound wet and broken as pain exploded through his side. His body staggered back, balance faltering, flames sputtering out of his palm.
Before he could recover, her knee drove into his stomach.
He crashed back-first into a tree with a sickening thud, bark cracking behind him. He struggled to stand, flames flickering weakly around his palms.
"Hrrk." (Weak.)
She said it flatly.
No mockery. Just fact.
My chest tightened.
Charlie… was losing.
I turned back desperately toward Rokar.
He was already moving again.
I tried to stand.
Failed.
My stamina was gone. My limbs felt like lead. The ground felt impossibly far away, as if I were sinking into it.
Charlie will help me…
He always finds a way…
I looked again in hope.
Vaela was toying with him now.
Blocking. Striking. Forcing him back again and again.
Hope drained out of me.
It didn't slip away slowly—it tore free all at once, leaving behind a hollow, sinking emptiness that made my limbs feel numb and heavy.
Rokar laughed—loud this time.
Not amused.
Not playful.
Satisfied.
"Skra-not look him."
(Don't look at him.)
He stepped closer, boots crunching softly against leaves and broken twigs, his towering frame blocking what little moonlight still reached me. The spear in his hand lowered again, its shadow stretching across my chest like a drawn line between life and death.
"He skra-not help you."
(He won't help you.)
The words sank deep.
Cold spread through my chest, creeping outward, wrapping around my heart until every beat felt sluggish and wrong. I wanted to deny it. Wanted to shout back. Wanted to believe Charlie would still find a way.
But when I looked—really looked—I saw him struggling just to stand, bloodied and battered, Vaela watching him like a cat toying with a wounded animal.
Rokar lifted the spear.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The tip aligned with my body once more.
I squeezed my eyes shut—
And a single, desperate thought clawed its way to the surface.
The book.
My hand shot under my shirt, fingers fumbling wildly as panic stole all coordination. I grabbed hold of it and tore it free, the familiar weight crashing into my palms—comforting and terrifying all at once.
I thrust it forward with both hands, arms trembling, every ounce of hope pouring into my voice.
"SHIELD!"
Nothing happened.
The silence that followed was deafening.
My stomach dropped as cold dread flooded my chest.
"SHIELD!" I screamed again, louder, rawer.
Still nothing.
Panic exploded inside me.
"SHIELD! SHIELD! SHIELD!"
My voice cracked, desperation tearing through every word—but the book remained lifeless. No glow. No warmth. No miracle.
Rokar stopped moving. The forest seemed to freeze with him.
He stared at me.
One second passed.
Then another.
Then another still.
Three seconds stretched into eternity.
His expression didn't change—not confusion, not surprise. Just a flat, unreadable stare.
Behind Rokar, I caught sight of Charlie.
He had turned his head just enough to see me—see the book in my hands. For a split second, something fierce ignited in his eyes.
Hope.
Like a man clinging to a miracle he knew might never come.
Vaela noticed it too.
She slowed, her lips curling upward as realization dawned. Then she laughed.
Not loud.
Not cruel.
Just sharp and amused—like someone watching a child throw stones at a storm.
The sound cut straight through me.
My hands trembled as I stared down at the book, my fingers tightening around its edges until my knuckles went white. Panic surged up my throat, choking me.
Why…?
Why isn't it working?
My mind raced, frantic, grasping at memories. The serpent. The shield. The moment it had burst from my chest without warning.
I hadn't called for it then.
I hadn't commanded it.
It had answered something.
Fear? Desperation? The will to survive?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember—trying to feel it again.
How did it activate before!?
Help me.
Please.
The book remained cold and silent in my hands.
Rokar hand moved—
Pain exploded through my leg.
I screamed as the spear punched through my thigh, white-hot agony ripping through me. I collapsed fully, hands clawing uselessly at the ground.
I had never felt pain like this.
Never.
My life had been comfort. Safety. Luxury.
This—
This was hell.
Rokar ripped the spear out—
Then stabbed again.
My left hand.
I screamed until my throat burned raw, vision blurring as agony consumed everything. My fingers spasmed uncontrollably.
The book slipped from my grasp and fell into the dirt beside me.
I clutched my bleeding hand with the other, sobbing uncontrollably.
Rokar raised his spear again. This time, aiming for my stomach.
Behind him—
Charlie froze.
Something changed in his expression. Rage. Despair.
His eyes flickered—
Gold. A faint, dangerous light, like I have never seen before.
Then suddenly—
Something glinted.
Rokar paused.
A faint reflection flashed from his leather pocket.
He reached into the pouch and pulled out a small mirror-like artifact.
The surface shimmered.
Rokar straightened immediately.
He lowered his spear and spoke with unexpected respect.
"Graah… Elder-skra. Rokar greets."
(Rokar greets Elder.)
The forest seemed to fall silent again.
And I lay there bleeding, broken, staring at the fallen book beside me—
Not knowing whether this interruption had saved me…
Or sealed my fate.