The heavy thud of Valerius’s lifeless body hitting the stone floor broke the spell.
The Ember inside me, which had been burning like a raging furnace, suddenly flickered and died out. The supernatural strength vanished, replaced instantly by the crushing, agonizing weight of exhaustion and the burning pain across my slashed cheek.
I dropped to my knees, gasping for air.
Beside me, Myra let go of her blood-soaked spear. She collapsed entirely, her knees slamming into the stone as she crawled toward Elara’s still form.
"Elara..." Myra whispered, her voice shattering. She grabbed her friend’s lifeless hand, smearing her own blood across Elara’s pale skin. "No, no, please. Get up. We have to go back to the mansion. We have to..."
She broke down into a guttural, soul-tearing wail. It was the pure, unfiltered agony of a terrified child who had just lost her only anchor in a nightmare.
I was trying to maintain control. But my fourteen-year-old body was failing me. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I was in shock.
Then, I heard it.
Chitter. Scratch. Squeak.
From the deep penumbra, beyond the flickering torchlight, the red eyes began to multiply again. We had killed the vanguard, but the swarm was vast. The scent of fresh, aristocratic blood—and Elara’s—was drawing the remaining scavengers from the depths of the maintenance shafts.
"Myra, we have to move," I croaked, grabbing her shoulder.
She didn’t hear me. She was hyperventilating, burying her face in Elara’s bloodied tunic.
The chittering grew louder. A massive, scarred rat crept out from behind a brass gear, its nose twitching as it sniffed the edge of the blood pool.
"Myra, get up!" I yelled, my voice cracking. I hauled her up by her arm, ignoring the screaming pain in my own muscles.
"No! We can’t leave her!" Myra fought back, thrashing wildly. "Elvit, we can’t leave her in the dark!"
"She is gone!" I screamed, the harsh truth tearing at my own throat. I grabbed Myra by the collar of her armor and pulled her hard, forcing her to stumble backward away from the bodies. "If we stay, we die too! Move!"
I dragged her away. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in this second life. As we backed into the narrow tunnel leading out, I watched the shadows swallow the area. The last thing I saw before the darkness took over was a wave of matted fur washing over the corpses of Valerius, Livia, and Elara.
The walk back to the military district felt heavier for more than one reason; a voice kept creeping into my mind.
Myra couldn’t walk on her own. She leaned all her weight against my side, her sobs eventually reducing to hollow, empty hiccups. We stumbled through the upper rings like two ghosts. We were covered head to toe in gore, mud, and ash. The deep gash on my cheek had stopped bleeding profusely, but it throbbed with a sickening rhythm.
When we finally reached the heavy iron gates of the 7th Legion keep, the guards on duty raised their halberds, shouting in alarm at the sight of us.
I didn’t answer them. I just kept walking until we reached the main courtyard.
"Elvit!"
The booming voice cut through the fog in my mind. Miklas sprinted across the training grounds, still wearing his sleep-tunic and trousers. When he saw my face and Myra’s catatonic state, all the color drained from his scarred face.
"Medics! Get the healers out here now!" Miklas roared to the courtyard, catching Myra as her legs finally gave out completely. He looked at me, his amber eyes wide with raw, parental terror. "By the gods, what happened to you? Where is Elara?"
"Dead," I said. My voice sounded completely detached, like it belonged to someone else. "Valerius and Livia. They are dead too."
A heavy silence fell over the courtyard, broken only by the approaching footsteps of the medics.
And then, the sound of metal-heeled boots.
Commander Erula stepped out of the keep’s main doors. She was fully armored, her crimson cloak billowing slightly in the night wind. Her blazing red eyes took in the scene: my slashed face, Myra’s broken state, and the absence of the third girl.
She didn’t yell. She didn’t look at us with her usual cold disdain. For a fleeting second, the terrifying Commander of the 7th Legion looked genuinely pained. The mask of the untouchable aristocrat slipped, revealing a tired, worried veteran who had just lost another soldier.
She walked slowly down the steps and stopped in front of me.
"You found them," Erula stated softly.
I nodded stiffly. "Yes, Commander. In the lower maintenance shafts. They were breeding a rat swarm to trigger an Ascension ritual."
Erula closed her eyes for a brief moment, her jaw tightening. When she opened them, the stern military leader was back, but the underlying concern remained.
"You are a fool, Elvit," Erula said, her voice low but carrying an undeniable weight. "A talented, reckless fool. You found the enemy, and instead of reporting back to your commanding officers, you took two untrained recruits into a hostile environment."
"They insisted on coming," I replied defensively, though the words tasted like ash.
"And you are the leader! You say no!" Erula’s voice cracked like a whip. She knelt down slightly so she was at eye level with me. Her red eyes bored into mine, forcing me to confront the reality of my failure. "If you had come to me, I would have sent a squad of Knight-Mages. We would have purged the tunnels. And Elara would be sleeping in a warm bed right now."
I swallowed hard, looking down at my blood-stained hands. She was right. My past-life arrogance had convinced me I could handle a reconnaissance mission alone. I had treated Elara and Myra like expendable soldiers in a game I thought I controlled.
"Individual strength wins duels," Erula continued, her tone softening slightly, a harsh mentor imparting the most painful lesson of all. "But the unit wins wars. Never forget this night, Elvit. The blood on your face will heal, but the weight of leadership never washes off."