Chương 27: 027

I gritted my teeth as the hollow pull in my gut worsened. The longer the staff–scythe? –stayed active, the deeper it dug, like something feeding on me from the inside out. I needed a solution, now. Maya's sobs wracked her small body, fingers clenching my arms hard enough to send sharp flares of pain through already aching muscles. I had no free hand to wipe her tears, no space to rock her the way she needed, so I curled around her instead, a shield made of shaking limbs.

"It's okay," I whispered, forcing the words past my clenched jaw.

"I've got you. I'll get you out of here." Her cries only broke harder.

"It's my fault," she gasped.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry!" Each hiccupped apology hit worse than any blade.

"None of this is on you," I said, pressing my forehead to her hair.

"Listen to me. Breathe. Just breathe." I needed a plan. Anything. But the truth was ugly. We were boxed in. The scythe wasn't killing them. The guards weren't coming. I couldn't lead the undead into the trap while they surrounded us. Which left me with nothing. I looked up, and froze. Silas stood atop the wall, cloak snapping in the wind, posture proud and untouched by the chaos below. The pleasant mask he'd worn earlier was gone. His smile now was sharp, predatory, eyes gleaming as they locked onto us.

"Well," he called pleasantly, voice carrying far too well, "this is quite the predicament you've gotten your little friend into, Maya." He clicked his tongue.

"Such a shame. One simple task, and you couldn't manage even that." Maya curled tighter against me, face buried in my neck as more apologies spilled out, thin and broken. Rage boiled up so fast it stole my breath.

"Shut your filthy hole!" I roared.

"Everything she did was because you set it up. This is on you, not her!" Silas's smile thinned.

"Mind your tongue, peasant. You address a king-." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I address a coward," I snapped, teeth bared.

"A piss-poor excuse for a man who threw a child to the monsters to save his own hide. Get down here if you're so brave. I'll put you in the ground myself." For a heartbeat, his composure cracked. Then he laughed softly.

"Otherworlders," he said with a sigh.

"Always so… uncivilized." His gaze dropped pointedly to the weapon in my hands.

"If you want to save the girl, and yourself, use your power. We've even gathered the army for you." The arrogance of it scraped raw across my nerves.

"You ordered your guards to stand down," I snarled.

"Don't pretend you're benevolent. You're a tyrant chasing power you don't even understand." His eyes gleamed anyway.

"Don't act as if I'm wrong to desire such strength. Otherworlders always possess something extraordinary." His gaze flicked to the undead.

"Now hurry. Your mana is fading." He knew. He had me cornered, and he knew it. Maya's grip tightened as the scythe flared, the light pulsing erratically. My vision swam, exhaustion dragging at me like chains. Then the connection snapped. Agony ripped through my gut, and the light died, the scythe's blade disappearing, leaving the staff again. The undead surged instantly. Clawed hands tore at us, digging into Maya's back. She screamed, arms locking around my neck as the world lurched violently sideways.

My stomach convulsed. I barely managed to turn before bile splattered the stone at our feet. She whimpered. I held her tighter. If I'd known the staff would drain me like this, I'd never have touched the damned thing. I staggered back, forcing myself upright, gripping the useless staff like a crutch. Maybe, maybe, I could open a path. If Maya lived, that would be enough. Then the undead parted, one striding to the front. Its armor bore a moon sigil across the breastplate. Maya gasped.

"Adan!" My heart dropped through my ribs. No. She struggled toward him, and I locked my arms around her.

"Maya, stop. That's not him."

"Yes it is!" she cried.

"I know that armor!" Hope lit her face, until the undead raised its sword high above us, poised to strike. Maya's struggles froze.

"Adan?" she whispered. There was no recognition. No hesitation. I twisted, but the sword still bit deep into my shoulder. White-hot pain exploded through me, blood spraying as Maya screamed.

"Adan, please!" she sobbed.

"It's me!" The undead lifted the sword again. I couldn't dodge. Maya was directly in its path. If that blade fell, she would die. There was only one spell left. Fast Forward. I hated giving Silas exactly what he wanted—but hatred meant nothing if she was dead. If we had even the smallest chance of surviving, I had to do this. I reached inward, grasping for the spell. Exhaustion surged back, brutal and crushing. My mana was gone, but I didn't stop. I would use this, even if it killed me.

Pain tore through my abdomen like a blade, but I forced it down, eyes locked on the sea of undead. I released the spell, the power rolling outward in a wave. My legs gave out. I hit my knees, Maya still clinging to me as bile burned its way up my throat. I spat acid onto the stone, the world collapsing into a dull, roaring haze. Then Maya screamed. I looked up. The army was disintegrating, armor, bone, and rot collapsing into drifting ash. And starting at my fingertips, my left arm did the same.