Chapter 21: Run, Kael

Chapter 21: Run, Kael

Leon's pulse pounded in his ears.

His eyes darted forward.

And then he saw them.

Towering figures.

Monsters.

Thick muscles layered with scars, both old and fresh, stretched across grotesque skin—a twisted mix of deep green and blood-red. The dim light caught on their bodies, highlighting every gnarled wound, every pulsing vein writhing beneath their flesh like living serpents. Their tusks, jagged and yellowed, protruded from snarling mouths. But it was their eyes—burning embers of hunger and bloodlust—that sent ice crawling down Leon's spine.

Not one. Not ten. Twenty. No… maybe more.

A thick silence settled over them, heavy and suffocating. It pressed down like an unseen force, wrapping around their lungs, their limbs, their very thoughts.

Standing. Watching. Waiting.

Leon's fingers twitched. His vision blurred for half a second before snapping back into focus.

"…Is this a joke?" Mira's voice, usually sharp with sarcasm, came out thin. Hollow. It wasn't like her. Not at all.

Arthur inhaled sharply. "What the—" He stopped, the rest of the words dissolving on his tongue. Because there was nothing to say. Nothing that would change what stood before them.

Elara took a shaky step back. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came.

Leon swallowed. His throat was dry. He blinked once. Then again.

Still there.

The orcs remained. A tide of monstrous flesh, snarling, shifting, ready to drown them.

"…I'm not hallucinating, right?" Leon's voice was barely above a whisper, forced past his lips in a breath he didn't remember taking. "You're all seeing this."

Mira let out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, we're seeing it. Trust me, I'd love for this to be some sick hallucination, but no—" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "We're really, truly screwed."

They knew.

The moment they laid eyes on the horde, they understood.

They couldn't win.

Not after the battle they had just fought. Not in their current state.

Mira and Arthur were spent—completely drained. Their magic reserves bled dry, leaving them with nothing but exhaustion and a headache. Elara was trembling, her breaths uneven, barely holding herself up.

And Leon—

Leon was a wreck. The aftereffects of Mana Surge still ravaged his muscles, leaving every movement like fire searing through his veins. He could barely stand, let alone fight.

Elara's fists clenched at her sides. She forced out a breath. "What the hell is going on…? Not one or two, but this many orcs? How?"

Mira rubbed her temples, muttering under her breath. "This floor wasn't supposed to have this many orcs. This… this is insane."

Arthur swallowed hard, his breathing uneven. His hands clenched and unclenched as if trying to stop them from shaking. "This… this isn't a fight we can—" His voice cracked, and he stopped himself, jaw tightening. A beat passed before he forced the words out. "There's no way we make it out of this."

No mana.

No stamina.

No hope.

Only inevitability.

Leon felt it settle in his chest, a weight so heavy it threatened to crush him where he stood. It pressed down, seeping into his bones, dragging him under. His muscles screamed, exhaustion clawing at every inch of him. His breath came in ragged pulls, each one harder than the last. Every part of him wanted to give in. Collapse. Surrender—to the pain, the fatigue, the despair creeping at the edges of his mind.

But he couldn't.

Not when the others were still standing beside him.

His vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus. His fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword, numb, unsteady. He squeezed tighter. His grip turned ironclad. He had to hold on. He had to keep moving.

Even if it felt impossible.

His gaze flickered to the others. Their chests rose and fell in uneven gasps, their wounds staining the dirt beneath them. No one could fight anymore. They could barely stand.

There's no way we can win.

They were spent. Even killing an ant in this state would be a struggle.

Should we run?

His heart lurched at the thought. If they turned now, they might make it. Might. But the orcs wouldn't stop. They'd chase them all the way to the entrance, to the towns beyond.

It wouldn't end here.

Unless someone made it end.

A slow exhale left him.

There was only one option.

His body felt so heavy, like it wasn't even his anymore. Every nerve screamed at him to stop. But his legs moved anyway. One step forward. Then another.

"…Everyone." His voice came out quieter than he expected. It steadied. Strengthened. "Run."

The word lingered in the silence.

His shoulders squared. He lifted his blade—slowly, deliberately. Heavy as it was, it rose all the same.

Defiant.

Unyielding.

"Get to the guild. Tell them what happened." A pause. He exhaled again, drawing in every ounce of resolve left in his battered body.

"I'll hold them here."

Silence.

Then—

A laugh.

Soft. Tired. Broken.

Mira shook her head, an exhausted smirk curling on her lips. "You idiot."

Leon frowned. "Mira—"

"You seriously think we'd run just because you said so?" Her voice wavered, but she still tried to sound annoyed. "Please. Do you know how long I've put up with you? If I was gonna ditch you, I'd have done it way earlier."

Arthur exhaled sharply. His jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists. "Yes, I'm afraid." He let out a bitter chuckle. "More afraid than I've ever been. But if I leave you here… if I just run…" He shook his head. "Then what kind of friend am I?"

Elara met his gaze, her expression calm but her eyes unwavering. "We're not leaving you, Leon. We're your party." A pause. "We're your friends."

Leon opened his mouth—to argue, to beg them to be reasonable—but then he saw it.

Their eyes.

They understood. They knew.

And still—

They stayed.

A slow, shuddering breath left Leon's lips. His chest felt tight. His throat ached.

"…Idiots."

Then, he turned. His expression hardened.

"Kael." His tone shifted—urgent, commanding. "At least one of us has to complete the emergency quest. The Aetherium Core—the girl needs it. If we fail, that girl dies."

Kael stiffened. His breath hitched. "But—"

"You should know by now, Kael. We're adventurers." Leon's voice softened, but there was no room for argument. "The moment we took up this life, we knew—there's no guarantee of survival. No certainty of tomorrow." His gaze darkened. "But that girl… she still has a chance."

Kael's lips parted. No words came out.

Leon gripped his shoulder. His voice dropped, softer now. "You have to go. No—you must go."

Mira stepped forward, placing a hand on Kael's arm. "Don't worry." She forced a smirk, but her eyes betrayed a quiet sorrow. "We're an A-Rank party. If something happens, the guild will send reinforcements. So go."

Kael's eye locked on Leon.

Elara let out a choked sound.

She wasn't ready.

None of them were.

Her hands clenched, then loosened. Slowly, she reached for the small pouch on her belt. Her fingers hesitated, then tightened before she pressed it into Kael's hands.

Her lips trembled. "Kael," she said softly. Her voice wavered. "Find my brother. Give this to him. Please."

Kael's fingers curled around it.

Elara's breath hitched. She wanted to say something more. To tell him to run fast. To survive. To live for them.

But her throat closed up.

She turned away before she could break.

Mira unfastened the locket from her neck, pressing it into Kael's palm, her fingers lingering.

Arthur pulled a dagger from his belt, gripping it tightly for a moment before handing it over.

Leon hesitated.

Then he unfastened a ring from his belt. He pressed it into Kael's palm, his fingers lingering there. Just a second longer.

Kael didn't say a word. He didn't have to. They weren't saying it. But he knew.

They were giving him these because—

Because they weren't coming back.

Leon exhaled.

Rested a hand on Kael's shoulder. His grip was firm.

"Kael," he said, steady despite everything. "Run. Run as fast as you can. You have to reach the guild no matter what. Just run with everything you have."

Kael stood there. His fingers twitched.

Elara's voice was barely above a whisper. "Please."

Kael's breath trembled. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "I—"

Leon didn't let him finish.

His hands gripped Kael's shoulders, his eyes burning with a quiet, desperate determination. "Don't waste what we're giving you. A small life on your hand."

Kael looked at her. At Leon. Arthur. Elara.

At the horde waiting beyond.

His fists clenched. His shoulders trembled.

Then—

A sharp inhale.

A step back.

Kael turned.

And he ran.

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(Chapter Ended)