4

The battle outside was chaos. The clang of steel, the shouts of warriors, and the acrid scent of blood filled the air. At the heart of it all, Valiz stood, facing the men who had once been comrades in arms—now nothing more than traitors and enemies.

"Why are you doing this?" Valiz demanded, his voice rising above the sounds of war. His sword gleamed in the fading light, an extension of his will. He stood tall, defiant, but confusion clouded his mind.

A man in golden robes stepped forward, his eyes cold and detached, as if the bloodshed around him didn't matter. "This is the will of the Almighty," he said, sneering at Valiz, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "You were once useful. But now, you are just a liability."

Valiz's heart sank. It couldn't be. The Pope. His brother-in-arms, the one who had fought beside him through countless battles, was now the enemy. A surge of betrayal washed over him, but he pushed it aside, narrowing his eyes.

"You are of no use anymore," the Pope continued, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "Die obediently. The world will be better off without you."

Valiz's grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles white. "You've lost your mind, Angelo," he shouted. "We fought together! I saved you more times than I can count. We were brothers. This is not you!"

The Pope's expression darkened. "Yes, and that's exactly why I must kill you. You are too powerful, too dangerous. Who knows when your power will turn on us? Who knows when you might decide to strike?"

Valiz's heart pounded, his fury rising like a tidal wave. "I'll never let you destroy everything we've fought for!"

With a roar, he concentrated, summoning a totem to unleash his magic. The ritual was complex, and he had done it a thousand times. But when the totem finally released its energy, the only thing that appeared was a small, weak undead, no bigger than a child. It crumpled in an instant, easily dealt with by the Pope's wave of magic.

A chill ran down Valiz's spine. This wasn't supposed to happen. "So, this is the real you," he spat. "Angelo, you've gone too far. I'll make you regret this."

The Pope's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Foolish. We've already deployed eight Mecha Magic Disruptors—thanks to our goblin allies. Your magic is useless here."

Valiz's eyes flared with rage, but before he could strike, the ground shook with a thunderous crash. From the shadows, a massive figure emerged—a towering ogre, its body rippling with muscle, its fists as large as boulders. It stomped forward, smashing through the golden-robed warriors as though they were nothing more than straw dolls.

"Milady Marissa is here!" a young soldier cried out in relief. "Now they're finished!"

Marissa's presence on the battlefield was a beacon of hope. As Valiz caught sight of her, a wave of determination washed over him. But there was no time to waste. The fight raged on, and the Pope had to be stopped.

Valiz raised his sword, his eyes locked onto his former ally. Without warning, the Pope lunged, his golden robes a blur of motion. Valiz barely parried in time, his sword clashing with the Pope's with a deafening crack. The force of the blow pushed him back, but he regained his footing, swinging his blade in a fluid arc.

The Pope's sword came down in a vicious slash, narrowly missing Valiz's throat. The blade brushed the fabric of his robe, the tip grazing his flesh and leaving a thin trail of blood. Valiz winced, but his focus remained sharp. He stepped to the side, his sword cutting through the air, aiming for the Pope's side.

The Pope twisted away, his eyes flashing with malice. "You think you can stop me?" he hissed. "You're just a relic of a past era."

Valiz's mind raced as he took in the situation. The Mecha Disruptors were causing his magic to falter. But he still had his sword, and he still had his skill. His blade danced through the air, narrowly missing the Pope's robes as the two clashed in a blur of steel. Each strike was faster than the last, the sound of metal on metal ringing out across the battlefield.

As Valiz closed the gap, the Pope brought his sword up to deflect another powerful strike. The two swords met in a violent clash, sending sparks flying as their blades locked. For a brief moment, the world seemed to slow down. Valiz could feel the Pope's power surging through his blade, but he didn't back down.

"You were my friend," Valiz muttered through clenched teeth, his sword straining against the Pope's. "But now... you're nothing but a coward hiding behind the will of a false god."

With a roar of frustration, Valiz broke the lock and swung his sword again, this time aiming for the Pope's exposed side. The blade sliced through the air, but the Pope parried with inhuman speed. He countered with a strike aimed for Valiz's heart, but Valiz twisted his body just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow.

The Pope laughed. "You're slower than I remember, Valiz. I wonder how long you'll last."

But just as the Pope prepared to strike again, the ground shook once more. A low, guttural roar echoed across the battlefield as the ogre, summoned by Marissa, charged toward the golden-robed warriors, its massive fists swinging. The Pope's attention faltered for a split second, but that was all Valiz needed.

With a swift, powerful lunge, Valiz's blade connected with the Pope's shoulder, the force of the blow sending him staggering back. The Pope gritted his teeth, clutching his shoulder, but he wasn't finished yet.

Marissa's undead surged forward, their ranks growing as she fought to maintain control over them. But the magic fluctuations in the air were affecting their strength, and her summons faltered. The battlefield was a mess of undead and living soldiers locked in a chaotic struggle.

But the tide was turning. As the ogre crushed through the golden-robed warriors, Valiz knew that the battle wasn't lost yet. It was far from over.

"Stay focused, Marissa!" Valiz shouted as he dodged another strike from the Pope. "We can still win this."

But just as he said the words, an arrow shot through the air, finding its mark in the chest of Tondir.

"NO!" Valiz screamed, his eyes wide with horror as his friend crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled around him, and Valiz's heart shattered.

"Hold on," he whispered to himself, his sword raised, ready to face whatever came next. The battle was far from over, and Valiz wasn't going to let it end here. Not like this.