Barrett ran.

  Branches whipped past as the forest blurred into streaks of green and shadow. His breath sawed in and out of his chest, hot and ragged, but his legs kept pumping, muscles burning in a steady, familiar fire.

  Ahead of him, Pippy and Rei cut through the undergrowth. Pippy kept glancing back every few seconds, eyes flicking to Arthur slumped across Barrett’s shoulders. The boy’s weight dragged on him, but Arthur stayed mercifully still.

  Behind, Maku pounded along at his flank, mana still prickling faintly in the air around him, head half-turned to watch their rear.

  Tanya. Lance.

  The thought stabbed through Barrett’s mind, unwelcome.

  Can’t. Not now.

  Right now there was only forward. Only speed. Only making it back to the base before the orcs closed the gap.

  He prayed silently that the cave fort would buy them enough time to breathe and heal.

  [Iron Reflex] screamed.

  Barrett dropped flat on instinct.

  An axe tore through the space his head had just occupied, spinning end over end before burying itself in a tree with a wet, splintering thunk.

  He hit the ground hard, air blasting from his lungs.

  An orc crashed out of the trees on his left. Two more burst from the right, tusks bared, weapons raised. They were close now. No way he was outrunning this.

  “Maku, left!” Barrett barked, scrambling to a knee.

  Maku’s hand clamped around his arm, hauling him upright as he shifted toward the lone orc. “Why do you get two?” he snapped.

  “Because I’ve got Pippy and Rei with me,” Barrett shot back, snatching up his machete. “Three on two.”

  “You sure about that?” Maku said flatly.

  Barrett looked up just in time to see Rei pause, glance back at them—

  —and then turn and sprint deeper into the trees.

  She didn’t even hesitate.

  “Dammit,” Barrett growled.

  The three orcs thundered toward them, closing fast.

  “Pippy! Little juice!” he yelled, and charged the pair coming for him.

  [Orc Warrior — Level 12]

  [Orc Warrior — Level 12]

  Maku blew out a suffering sigh and veered toward the third. “Every damn time,” Barrett heard him mutter.

  Pippy’s [Haste] slammed into him like an electric current. The world smeared at the edges; his own movements sharpened. Barrett hit full sprint, dropped into a slide at the last second like he was stealing home, and carved his machete clean through the first orc’s legs.

  The creature bellowed, collapsing in a spray of blood.

  Barrett rolled, came up swinging for the second, but the orc was faster than he’d gauged. It juked wide, boots tearing up dirt, and angled straight toward Pippy.

  “No you don’t—”

  Barrett shoved off the ground, but his foot jerked mid-stride. He pitched forward, hitting the earth face-first.

  Teeth rattling, he looked back and swore.

  The legless orc had hauled itself forward, fingers like iron clamps around Barrett’s ankle, jaws snapping at his boot.

  “Kid!” Barrett roared, kicking furiously. His machete had flown just out of reach in the fall, glinting in the dirt.

  He triggered [Blood Rush], veins burning, strength surging—but even boosted, he could feel it: he wasn’t going to catch that orc in time.

  The world narrowed.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The charging orc.

  Pippy, small and shaking, standing in front of Granny and unconscious Arthur like a human shield.

  The knife in its hand, rising.

  Barrett tore free with a brutal yank, lunged for his machete, snatched it up, and spun. He drove the blade down again and again into the legless orc behind him until its grip slackened and its body went limp.

  [You have slain Orc Warrior — Level 12]

  He whirled back.

  And froze.

  The orc looming over Pippy had gone utterly still.

  Not slowed or stunned, but frozen.

  Mid-strike.

  Pippy stood inches from it, hand outstretched, face contorted with effort. A faint golden distortion shimmered in the air around the orc like heat above asphalt.

  “Can’t…hold him…much longer,” she gasped.

  Blood trickled from her nose.

  Barrett stared, just for a heartbeat, at the impossible sight: the orc’s arm locked in place, muscles quivering as if straining against invisible chains. Pippy had moved closer to amplify her power, practically within reach of its blade.

  Then the pressure snapped.

  The orc broke free with a guttural roar and lashed out, its massive foot catching Pippy square in the chest. She flew backward and slammed into a tree with a sickening crack, crumpling to the roots.

  “Pipsqueak!” Barrett shouted, sprinting toward her.

  The orc didn’t even glance back at him. Its eyes locked onto Granny and Arthur instead—easy prey on the ground. It raised its sword again, intent clear.

  Too far.

  He was too damn far.

  Barrett pushed harder, lungs burning, legs screaming, but the distance wouldn’t compress any faster. He couldn’t get there in time. Maku was still tied up with the third orc, mana flashing in the corner of Barrett’s vision.

  This is it, he thought, panic clawing at his throat. I’m not gonna make it.

  The orc stepped forward—

  —and then jerked.

  For a split second it stood there, confused.

  Then it toppled forward like a felled tree, crashing to the dirt at Granny’s feet.

  Barrett skidded to a stop, staring.

  Someone else was in the fight.

  —

  Smoke curled from a coin-sized hole in the orc’s forehead.

  The body swayed once, then crashed face-first into the dirt.

  Rei stepped out of the treeline a moment later, alone. Her hair was singed at the ends, clothes scuffed and dark with soot. A faint heat shimmered around her hand before the last ember died.

  “Looks like I just saved your ass, Donovan,” she said. The words came out casual, but the fear threaded through her voice gave her away.

  Barrett let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Then his gaze snapped back to Arthur.

  The boy was still on the ground where he’d fallen, shirt soaked a dark, ugly red. Granny knelt over him, hands glowing faintly as she poured what little mana she had left into the wound.

  “Thanks,” Barrett rasped. It came out rough, shredded.

  Maku jogged up, spear in hand, ready for another attack. When he saw Rei, he snorted. “Oh. So you remembered you can’t survive without us.”

  Rei’s eye twitched, but she didn’t rise to it.

  Barrett tuned them out and focused entirely on Arthur.

  Up close, the kid looked worse. Skin gone paper-white, lips tinged blue, breath shallow and wheezing. Granny Ida’s face was pinched in tight concentration. Sweat beaded on her temples from the effort.

  On the other side, Pippy staggered to her feet, still dazed from being kicked into the tree. She clutched her ribs, blinking through the fog of pain, but stayed upright.

  “Hell of a move, Pip,” Barrett said, forcing a grin.

  She nodded once, still shaken, then dropped to her knees beside Arthur. “Arthur? Arthur, hey—hey, stay with us, okay?”

  Distant roars rippled through the trees.

  The orcs were regrouping.

  Barrett’s head snapped up, listening. Still far, but getting closer. The window was closing.

  He looked down at Arthur again. The boy’s chest barely moved. His eyelids fluttered, then stilled.

  Barrett’s heart dropped, but his face didn’t change.

  “We gotta move,” he said. “We’re close to the cave.”

  He slid his machete into its sheath and stooped, carefully hooking his arms under Arthur and lifting him up. The boy felt light and frail.

  Rei stepped in front of him. “He’s not going to make it,” she said bluntly. “You know that.”

  “Shut your mouth, witch!” Granny snapped, her voice suddenly sharp and dangerous.

  Pippy’s glare could’ve cut steel.

  Rei lifted her hands slightly, as if to ward off their looks. “Be serious. He’s at death’s door. If we slow down for him, we all die.” Then, with a softer tone, “I’m only being logical.”

  Her eyes flicked to Maku for backup. He said nothing—just looked to Barrett.

  Barrett met Rei’s gaze, jaw clenched. “You’re welcome to test your logic alone,” he said quietly. “But I’m not leaving another member of Team Donovan behind.”

  That seemed to settle it.

  Without another word, he shifted Arthur in his arms and started moving.

  Granny fell into step beside him, one hand hovering near Arthur’s chest like she might somehow will it to rise more. Pippy trotted close on the other side, wiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. Maku covered their flank, spear ready. Rei followed last, still breathing hard, eyes flicking constantly between forest and sky.

  The trees thinned, then opened into the familiar slope leading up to Barrett’s makeshift fort. The sight of the mountain punched through his exhaustion like a shot of adrenaline.

  He pushed harder.

  Every stride jolted Arthur’s limp weight against his chest. Somewhere on that climb, Barrett felt it: the shift. The wrongness.

  He pressed his forearm tighter to Arthur’s ribs, straining for a heartbeat.

  Nothing.

  For a moment, the world narrowed to a point. The burn in his legs vanished. The ache in his lungs vanished. All of it drowned under one cold, crushing realization.

  No,no,no.

  No, not now, damnitt.

  Not here.

  He tightened his grip until his arms shook. And took the lead so the others wouldn’t see his face.

  He thought of the first day at camp, when Arthur had picked Barrett’s campfire over the others. He thought of the cave with the bear, of Arthur beating himself up for freezing, promising that next time he’d be braver.

  Next time had come.

  And the kid had stepped into a killing blow without a second of hesitation. Not for glory or power. Just for a teammate. More courage than most grown men Barrett had known in his entire life.

  Fine, then, Barrett thought, jaw tight. If a powerless kid could stand like that… then Barrett Donovan had better be a hundred times braver.

  He kept running.

  The others didn’t see the truth. Not yet. He wouldn’t let them—not until they were behind walls, not while panic could still get them all killed. So he locked it away, buried it deep under motion, under purpose, under the simple command to move.

  He would not let Arthur’s sacrifice end in vain. He had sacrificed it all for Team Donovan, and Barrett would be damned if he didn’t do at least as much.

  And so with legs screaming, heart breaking, refusing to slow down for even a single step, Barrett ran.