31. Through The Sacrifice

Rain hammered against Nathanial’s visor as he sprinted through the darkness. Branches whipped across his armor while mud dragged at his boots with every step he took. Behind him, the forest was illuminated with the desperate struggle for life. A myriad of auras fought in the night as explosions erupted one after another, shaking the earth beneath their feet, just enough to stagger the exhausted patrolmen.

No one spoke. Not even Fredrick with his playful jokes.

The only sounds echoing through the area were the gasping of breaths, the splash of mud, and the distant screams swallowed by the storm behind them.

Nathanial glanced over his shoulder again. Another burst of blue ice surged out like a wave, crashing into a slash of scarlet aura that ripped the trees from their roots.

John was fighting. He was fighting with the other two watchmen to buy time.

Even from a distance, Nathanial could still recognize the color of his aura, and his chest tightened painfully. He forced himself to keep moving with the belief that, given enough time, John and his comrades would regroup with them.

Those were the words he told himself.

So why did every instinct in his body scream at him to turn back?

“Eyes forward,” Luka muttered.

Nathanial shifted his gaze ahead again.

Luka carried the injured watchman over one shoulder while still moving through the forest with frightening speed. He had applied emergency first aid and one of the few healing potions they had left. However, blood still dripped steadily from the wounded man’s armor, leaving a trail behind them.

But that wasn’t what shocked Nathanial.

It was the fact that Luka never slowed down. Never complained. And never looked back. Even though he had just left his friend behind to buy time so that everyone else could escape, and that scared Nathanial more than the battle itself. But maybe it was because Luka fully trusted John’s capabilities to make it out.

All around him, the watchmen held their tongues. Not uttering a word as if they had done it all before. It must be because of the confidence in their comrades that they were able to move forward.

Another explosion erupted behind the men. The ground trembled violently, and Nathanial grabbed onto Percy’s arm as the young patrolman stumbled forward.

Nathanial pushed his worries aside. “Keep moving,” he ordered. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

Percy nodded, and the group pushed deeper into the forest. More surviving watchmen appeared around them in bursts without making a sound. One dropped silently from the trees. Another emerged through the rain with blood covering half his cloak, while a third clutched a deep wound across his ribs.

Nathanial could tell their numbers were shrinking.

Where were the others?

He focused on what was in front of them as a sharp whistle suddenly echoed ahead.

Luka stopped in his tracks and clicked his tongue. The other watchmen did the same.

“We need to change direction.” Luka’s eyes narrowed. “The Empire’s patrol is moving east.”

“They plan to surround us,” another watchman added.

Nathanial’s stomach churned. “They’ve repositioned already?”

The watchman gave a stern nod. “They knew where we were heading and planned accordingly.”

The realization spread through the group like wildfire. Nathanial frowned, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t panic anymore. The Empire had anticipated their breakout and formed layers of patrols to hold them back. Nathanial saw the flickers of torchlight as a group of enemy soldiers ran parallel to them to the east. His thoughts raced nonstop, trying to predict their reasoning, and only one conclusion appeared.

The outer net wasn’t collapsing randomly. No, instead it was tightening like a noose around their necks.

“They’re herding us…” Richard muttered.

Everyone knew what this meant. Luka didn’t hesitate; he immediately changed direction. “We’re heading northwest.”

Nathanial and the others obeyed without hesitation. Their steps hammered against the soil like drums of war. No one questioned him. Fear and exhaustion had stripped hesitation away, and as Nathanial sprinted beside Fredrick while trying not to think about the explosions behind them—he couldn’t.

The battle was growing fiercer, and John was still fighting.

Still buying them time.

A sudden scream came from the right, and soon a watchman crashed through the trees before slamming into the ground hard enough to leave a crater in the mud. Blood poured from his broken armor. The patrolmen rushed to help.

Another watchman screamed at him to get up.

The injured man tried, but then froze. An arrow pierced clean through his skull, and those rushing to help bitterly pulled back. Empire soldiers burst through the trees immediately afterward, and Richard screamed.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“CONTACT!”

Nathanial turned as his aura surged. The forest came to life with the dying screams of men. Empire scouts rushed forward in coordinated formations, using the terrain itself to funnel the fleeing group into a chokepoint between the jagged rocks and dense undergrowth. Nathanial immediately recognized the danger.

“We’re trapped!”

“Not yet.” Luka scanned the land before pivoting on his heel.

The watchman on his shoulder stood on his own and drew his spare blade.

“Then what the hell do you call this?!” Fredrick asked.

“A kill zone.”

The watchmen formed lines with the patrolmen. Their foes were relentless, attacking with sheer desperation as they sought to annihilate the Everheart forces from the face of the world. Shields slammed together, and arrows tore through the rain from both sides, yet their advance continued.

Nathanial felt the sweat cling to his body. He struck the tip of an incoming spear, deflecting it aside before slashing across the attacker’s throat. Blood stained his gauntlet, but as one fell, another came.

The Empire’s forces were far more disciplined now, but not everyone had converged on their location. Most were still rushing to encircle them.

He blocked another strike while Fredrick buried his sword into a scout’s shoulder.

They kept killing.

Until the metallic tang of blood overpowered the smell of the spring rain.