The clearing felt smaller now. The fire’s light barely reached the Revenant’s feet.

  Bran stepped forward another pace — the line he would not allow it to cross.

  “Form up,” he said. “No one breaks.”

  No one argued.

  Lira took position behind him, arrow drawn tight.

  Tyren shifted to Bran’s flank, spear tip lowered but ready.

  Sera stood between them and Joren, staff glowing with faint white light.

  Joren tried to breathe.

  The Revenant slowly raised one arm.

  Its bone spike came down like a guillotine.

  Bran blocked.

  Steel screamed against bone. The impact drove him back, boots carving trenches in the dirt.

  “Bran—!” Joren shouted.

  “Stay back!” Bran snapped through gritted teeth.

  Lira loosed an arrow into the Revenant’s shoulder.

  The shaft sank deep.

  The creature didn’t flinch.

  Tyren grimaced.

  “Great. Tougher than the others.”

  The Revenant turned toward Lira.

  She drew another arrow — her movement flawless despite the tension — and fired three in a row.

  One struck its thigh.

  One buried in its ribs.

  The third grazed its mask, leaving a thin crack.

  The fracture across its face spread.

  The Revenant paused.

  Then slowly turned its mask toward her.

  Lira’s smirk faded.

  “…Bran. It’s learning.”

  Bran’s jaw tightened.

  “Don’t let it read you. Change it up.”

  The Revenant lifted a clawed foot and slammed it into the ground.

  The shockwave rippled out through the dirt, cracks spidering across the clearing and sending the group stumbling.

  Joren fell hard, pain shooting through his back.

  Tyren cursed.

  “What the hell— since when do they do that?!”

  Sera raised her staff again, weaving a protective spell.

  “Stay close! I can—”

  A bone spike shot from the Revenant’s forearm like a javelin.

  It smashed through her forming shield and sent her sprawling.

  “Sera!” Lira shouted.

  Bran roared, charging before it could press the attack.

  His blade met its claws in a flurry of sparks.

  They traded blows — two, three, four — each clash knocking Bran back another step. He forced his feet to hold ground that wanted to give.

  “Tyren! Flank it!”

  Tyren obeyed, circling and thrusting his spear at its exposed side.

  The Revenant twisted — joints bending wrong — and its counter-kick hurled Tyren backward, crashing him into the dirt.

  “I’m—…fine…” Tyren wheezed, clutching his ribs.

  Lira kept firing, watching how it moved instead of just where. Adjusting, aiming at the tiny timing gaps in its unnatural steps.

  One arrow struck the mask dead center.

  A jagged fissure split across it, radiating outward.

  The Revenant staggered — not from pain… from anger.

  Purple light flared behind the bone.

  Lira drew another arrow.

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  “…Okay,” she whispered. “So that hurts you.”

  The Revenant lowered its body like a predator preparing to pounce.

  The crack in its mask glowed brighter.

  Bran’s eyes widened.

  “LIRA, DODGE—!”

  It blurred.

  The Revenant didn’t vanish — it moved so fast the world struggled to follow.

  One moment it stood in front of Bran.

  The next, it was beside Lira.

  She twisted instinctively, the claw that should’ve pierced her heart raking across her back instead.

  Blood sprayed.

  She hit the ground with a cry.

  “LIRA!” Sera screamed, scrambling toward her.

  The Revenant raised its claw to strike again—

  Bran intercepted, taking the blow across his armor instead. Bone plates shattered, and blood blossomed across his chest.

  He dropped to one knee, coughing.

  “Bran!” Joren choked.

  Bran forced himself up again, fury burning through the pain.

  “Don’t. Touch. Them.”

  The Revenant seemed almost amused.

  “Joren!” Bran shouted as he sidestepped another swipe. “Get out of its line! Now!”

  Joren stumbled back, dragging himself toward the edge of the clearing — the far side of the fire, away from the main clash.

  He hated it.

  He hated his shaking legs.

  He hated how right Bran was.

  Sera skidded to Lira’s side, ripping her satchel open.

  “Lira, stay with me—”

  She crushed Moonleaf herbs between her hands, green light pulsing between her fingers as she pressed the glowing mixture against the torn flesh.

  “Mendigram… just enough to stop the bleeding… please…”

  The wound hissed and slowed, but didn’t fully close.

  Lira sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Tch… burns… That’s rude, you know…”

  Sera’s voice trembled.

  “Your back is bad. Don’t move.”

  Lira still tried to smirk.

  “You act like I’m dead already…”

  But her voice cracked, skin pale, breaths thin.

  Tyren staggered back into the fight.

  “HEY! Bone-face!”

  He hurled his spear like a javelin.

  The Revenant twisted aside — but Bran read the motion before it happened. When it dodged, it moved right into his counter-strike.

  Bran’s sword cut deep into its side.

  A hiss of purple corruption sprayed free, sizzling where it hit the ground.

  The Revenant shrieked — enraged.

  “It bleeds,” Bran panted. “Not much… but it bleeds!”

  Tyren grabbed the broken spear shaft from the dirt.

  “Good! Let’s make it bleed more—”

  The Revenant blurred again.

  This time, behind Tyren.

  Joren’s eyes widened.

  “Tyren, behind—!”

  Too late.

  The Revenant seized him by the torso one-handed and hurled him like a ragdoll.

  He slammed into a tree with a sickening crack and crumpled at its base.

  “TYREN!!” Sera screamed.

  Bran charged once more, roaring—

  The Revenant met him halfway.

  Its claw punched through his armor, driving into his abdomen.

  “Bran!” Joren’s voice tore at his throat.

  Bran gasped, blood bubbling at his lips, but he still swung his sword, forcing the creature back a step.

  He dropped to one knee.

  Sera rushed to him, hands glowing white as she tried to heal the wound.

  “Hold on, hold on, hold on—”

  The magic barely slowed the bleed.

  Joren could see it from where he knelt — the dark stain spreading too fast.

  The Revenant advanced — slowly now.

  Not rushing. Not swinging wildly.

  It knew it had already won.

  Lira, barely conscious, forced one last arrow onto her bowstring.

  Her hand shook.

  Her aim did not.

  The arrow shot straight into the fractured mask.

  The bone split.

  Purple light burst through the cracks.

  The Revenant staggered, screeching—

  Then turned on Lira.

  Sera grabbed at her desperately.

  “Lira, move—!”

  The Revenant’s claw came down in a brutal arc.

  Blood sprayed across Sera’s face.

  Lira collapsed, her arrow falling from limp fingers.

  “LIRA!!”

  Joren felt something inside him tear.

  Sera didn’t move at first.

  Then she let out a broken, raw sound — half sob, half scream — and threw herself over Lira’s body, hands glowing desperately bright.

  “Stay with me,” she whispered. “Please, stay with me—”

  The Revenant watched her.

  Then, almost lazily, it lifted its arm again.

  Sera looked up just as the shadow fell over her.

  Her eyes met the blank mask.

  There was no time for a spell.

  “Bran— Joren—” she started.

  The claw stabbed straight through her chest.

  Her breath left in a wet gasp.

  The glow in her hands sputtered and died.

  The Revenant yanked its arm back and let her fall across Lira’s still form.

  “SERA!!” Joren screamed, voice breaking.

  Bran, trembling, forced himself to stand again.

  He shouldn’t have been able to.

  He did anyway.

  The wound in his abdomen gaped with every breath, torn armor slick with blood. Each step left a dark stain in the dirt. Sera would have known instantly — no amount of healing she knew could fix that.

  But Sera was gone.

  Bran planted his sword in the ground once, using it to steady himself, then dragged it back up into a guard. He moved to put himself between Joren and the Revenant one more time.

  “Hey,” Bran rasped, voice raw. “You’re not done yet.”

  The Revenant turned toward him.

  It did nothing.

  It simply watched him struggle to stay upright, like a predator examining a dying animal.

  Joren crawled toward Bran, vision blurring.

  “Bran… Bran—”

  Bran’s eyes found his.

  For the first time Joren could remember, Bran smiled fully.

  Not the faint smirk.

  Not the rare, small nod of approval.

  A full, honest smile.

  “Looks like… I won’t… be there to yell at you,” Bran managed.

  “Don’t say that,” Joren choked. “Don’t—”

  Bran’s legs buckled.

  He caught himself on his sword for a moment, arms shaking, blood dripping steadily from his armor.

  “Listen…” His voice softened. “You were never… weak.”

  Joren’s breath hitched.

  Bran exhaled slowly, relief flickering in his eyes — like he’d been carrying a weight too long.

  “Guess I… don’t have to… worry about you anymore…”

  His grip loosened.

  The sword slid from his hand.

  Bran collapsed forward, body hitting the dirt with a heavy, final thud.

  “Bran…?” Joren’s voice cracked.

  No answer.

  The Revenant stepped over Bran’s body like discarded armor.

  Tyren dragged himself upright again somewhere behind Joren, body shaking, one arm hanging limp.

  He staggered forward, planting himself between Joren and the Revenant.

  “H—hey!” Tyren yelled hoarsely. “You’re not done with me either.”

  Joren grabbed at his leg with weak fingers.

  “Tyren, don’t— please, you can’t—”

  Tyren glanced down at him, eyes dim but still somehow bright.

  “If anyone’s getting out of this… it’s you.”

  “That’s not—” Joren started.

  “You still owe me for laughing at my stories,” Tyren said, a crooked grin on his bloody face.

  The Revenant moved.

  Tyren charged.

  He had nothing left — no refined stance, no polished spin. Just a broken spear shaft and raw, desperate will.

  He drove the wood into the shattered mask with everything he had.

  The crack spread like a spiderweb.

  Purple light burst from within.

  The Revenant screamed, lashing out.

  Its backhand hit Tyren with bone-breaking force, slamming him into a tree.

  He slid down.

  This time, he didn’t move.

  “TYREN!!” Joren screamed again, voice shredded.

  No one answered.

  Lira. Sera. Tyren. Bran.

  All gone.

  The Revenant turned toward Joren as if nothing had changed.

  The circle of lesser demons around the clearing watched in silence, making no move to interfere.

  Joren knelt in the blood-soaked dirt, shaking.

  His sword lay just out of reach.

  He didn’t even try to grab it.

  I couldn’t… save any of them.

  Each breath scraped his lungs.

  The Revenant walked toward him, one slow step after another.

  I was always weak…

  It raised its arm, bone spike pointed at his heart.

  Joren closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t…”

  He never finished the sentence.

  The world changed.