The sudden assault of the Calami horde threw the camp into instant chaos.
The soldiers who still had their wits about them fought back with all their strength.
Many mages were forced to draw the swords they carried at their sides, abandoning magic altogether—there was no time to focus, no time to chant.
Bodies fell.
Some lay motionless on the ground.
Others were dragged screaming into the darkness.
Ryn and Goran held their ground, desperately trying to keep the monsters at bay.
"Goran!"
Ryn shouted.
"Go help the right flank!"
Goran answered at once, charging through the Calami.
His massive axe cleaved a bloody path forward as he rushed to protect the group of female mages.
Ryn remained where the horde was pouring in without end.
One creature after another fell beneath his blade—
yet they did not stop.
The Calami surged forward like starving beasts, driven by an insatiable hunger.
At the same time, Lucian's adjutants continued to do nothing but guard their master.
The dense forest and the darkness of night made the battle even more brutal.
Many soldiers fought without fear, yet the terrain itself worked against them.
One woman after another was dragged away from the camp.
Some male soldiers were swarmed and devoured until their screams were silenced.
Ryn finally abandoned his position and began running through the camp, trying to save whoever he still could.
He cut down the Calami that were hauling off the mages, sparing them from becoming vessels.
But they could no longer fight.
Fear had already devoured their minds.
One by one, Ryn saved as many as he could.
Nearby, Goran was still locked in battle, swinging his axe at the endless tide of Calami.
No orders came from the commander.
Everyone was forced to fight on their own, struggling merely to survive.
Ryn kept running—
cutting down one after another, saving one after another—
until his body finally began to give out.
He shouted toward the adjutants,
"Retreat! Order everyone to retreat!
I'll hold them back!"
The adjutants nodded and blew the horn, signaling a full withdrawal.
The survivors were to regroup at the rendezvous point that had been decided beforehand.
The remaining soldiers dragged the mages—whose spirits were already broken—out of the camp that had become a living hell.
Lucian, still too drunk to understand anything, was thrown onto a cart and hurried away by his guards.
Ryn continued to hold the Calami at bay for as long as he could.
Goran rushed back to his side, helping him resist the onslaught.
The battle grew increasingly brutal as countless varieties of Calami poured in without pause.
In truth, a horde of this size should have been easy for him to handle—
just like the days when he had traveled as Richard's adjutant.
But this time, things were different.
Behind him was no longer a capable mentor like before—
only soldiers desperately fleeing for their lives,
and mages whose spirits had been completely shattered.
Even with Goran at his side—the big, bearded friend he trusted—
the weight of everything he had to protect made Ryn far more exhausted than usual.
The two of them kept swinging their weapons without pause.
How long the fight lasted, Ryn couldn't even tell.
"Ryn!"
Goran shouted.
"Everyone's gone! Let's get out of here!"
Ryn snapped back to his senses and began retreating with him,
still striking down the Calami whenever they came too close, refusing to leave any opening.
The monsters continued to pursue them for a while,
but their numbers gradually thinned—
until none followed anymore.
Once they were certain they had escaped,
Goran let his axe fall to the ground and collapsed flat on his back, gasping so hard he could barely speak.
Ryn slumped down as well, breathing just as heavily.
Goran muttered between breaths,
"Our last battle… not exactly a memorable one, huh?"
Ryn could only smile in response.
After resting long enough to move again, Ryn pulled Goran up.
"Thanks."
Goran replied, still panting as he stood.
"We should hurry," Ryn said.
"Who knows how the others are doing."
And so they rushed toward the rendezvous point.
When they arrived, the sight before them was grim.
Wounded soldiers lay scattered across the ground.
Several mages were working desperately to heal them.
Others sat trembling, hugging their knees after being dragged away by the Calami.
As for the commander—
he was still passed out drunk, completely unaware of everything that had happened.
Ryn felt a deep sense of regret.
None of this should have happened.
If only the commander had taken the battle seriously.
If only he had listened to the warnings.
But in the end, there was nothing Ryn could change.
When dawn came, the order was given for an immediate retreat.
The remnants of the army returned to Central by noon.
No further orders were announced.
Lucian was still unconscious, clutching a bottle of liquor on the cart his adjutants pushed along.
Everyone dispersed to report in—
their faces hollow, their spirits drained.
When Ryn and Goran returned their identification plates,
they received their certification of passing.
Goran looked at Ryn and said,
"Thank you.
If it weren't for you, I never would've made it."
Ryn shook his head.
The pain from what had happened still weighed heavily on his heart.
"No… even without me, you would have passed," he said quietly.
"Even with me there, so many people still died."
Goran replied at once,
"Idiot. How is any of that your fault?"
His voice hardened.
"Even if your master had been there, it wouldn't have turned out much differently.
But you still saved a lot of people.
And I made it back alive because of you."
Goran paused for a moment, then continued,
"You should be proud.
Because if you hadn't been there…"
He pointed toward the mages who were still sitting on the ground, trembling as their friends tried to comfort them.
"They wouldn't be sitting there like that right now."
Ryn followed Goran's gaze but said nothing.
"Well then, I'm off. See you around."
With that, Goran turned and walked away.
Ryn, meanwhile, returned to Richard's house.
He told Richard everything that had happened during the trial, his voice heavy with sorrow.
When he finished, Richard spoke.
"You don't need to blame yourself. None of this was your fault.
No one could have saved everyone in a situation like that."
He continued calmly,
"In fact, you were lucky.
If you hadn't been there, Lucian would have died on that battlefield for sure."
Richard let out a quiet sigh before going on.
"This sort of thing happens often.
The sons of nobles—or members of the High Council—
they go out just to earn titles, get easy missions, and let capable aides handle the real work."
He fell silent for a moment, then added,
"But this time, that boy was far too self-indulgent."
Richard looked Ryn straight in the eyes.
"Don't worry.
He will be punished for what he's done."