Soon, the girl stopped near him and studied him for a moment before smirking.

"So... were you trying to see how much punishment you could take before dropping dead?" she teased, crossing her arms.

Xayn let out an exhausted chuckle before groaning. "If I say yes, do I get a prize?" he shot back, still catching his breath.

The girl laughed, shaking her head. "You get bragging rights, I suppose. That was insane, by the way. I've seen some reckless idiots, but you? You take the cake."

Xayn smirked despite himself. "Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?" he said, rolling his shoulders as he attempted to push himself up again. His entire body protested, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand.

After Xayn rose to his feet, shaking off the exhaustion that weighed on his body like a heavy chain. He instinctively ran his hands over his torso, feeling the numerous dents and cracks in the battered armor he wore. The sight of the damage made him wince; he was more than certain the body underneath was a mess of bruises and torn flesh.

The girl standing nearby noticed his examination and made a casual remark. "You got off lightly. Others didn't even have limbs left."

Xayn didn't respond to her comment. Instead, his focus remained on the cumbersome armor. He had already made up his mind—he needed to get rid of it. The loud man from before, whom Xayn presumed to be their leader, had given orders to stay prepared, but Xayn knew better. This armor wasn't going to protect him—it was only going to slow him down. If another wave of monsters hit, he'd rather be fast than weighed down by broken metal.

With a grunt, he started prying the armor off, using sheer force as he struggled against the battered pieces. The girl protested, telling him to stop, but he simply shook his head. "Don't bother," he muttered, his voice laced with determination.

After several moments of effort, the final piece clattered to the ground. He flexed his arms and examined his exposed body, frowning at the fresh bruises and open wounds. There were no old scars—none of the familiar marks he had come to recognize as his own. It was yet another piece of proof that this wasn't his body. Something about that realization sent a chill down his spine, but he forced himself to push the thought away.

When he glanced back at the girl, he noticed her gaze lingering on his chest—or perhaps slightly above it. He couldn't quite tell. Raising an eyebrow, he decided to break the silence. "You did well with that machine."

She blinked, snapping out of whatever trance she was in. "It's called a ballista," she corrected him, though she didn't seem too bothered by his mistake.

Xayn shrugged. "Whatever it is, it saved my butt. Thanks for that. If you hadn't yelled for me to duck, I would've been decorated with a massive hole."

The girl smirked. "Yeah, well, if you were impaled it would have been my fault but thanks to my timely warning and aim that didn't matter."

Xayn found himself chuckling at that. "Good aim, then."

Before their conversation could continue, another voice joined them. "Good aim indeed... Didn't expect to find someone who could handle a ballista like that."

Both Xayn and the girl turned to face the source of the voice. It was the tall commander, the man with a full beard and piercing eyes. He studied the two teens with a measured gaze before shifting his attention to the girl.

She seemed to shrink slightly under his scrutiny. "I just got lucky with my shots," she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck.

The commander's lips twitched slightly. "Must have been a lot of luck, then. From what I saw, you didn't miss a single shot."

The girl scratched her chin, clearly unsure of how to respond. Meanwhile, Xayn simply watched the exchange with quiet interest. The commander's gaze then turned to him, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to size him up. Xayn met the look head-on, bracing himself for whatever the man had to say.

"I don't remember seeing you before," the commander finally said, his voice low and firm.

Xayn frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I have no recollection of meeting someone like you," the commander clarified. "I make sure to remember the names and faces of every fighter I bring to this wall. Someone with striking red hair like yours? A combatant who fights as wildly and as crazily as you do? There's no chance I would have forgotten."

Xayn stiffened. This wasn't just idle talk—the commander was genuinely convinced. A slight unease crawled up his spine. He knew he had been thrown into this battle as part of some sort of trial by that being, but he had assumed everyone here was just random things similar to characters in a game or movie. For the first time, doubt crept in. Could this man actually be thinking like a human and sense that he was an outsider?

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"Maybe you just forgot," Xayn offered casually, not wanting to let anything slip.

The commander's expression didn't change. "I don't forget."

Xayn was about to retort when something the commander said earlier hit him like a hammer—red hair. His eyes narrowed in confusion. That wasn't right. He had black hair. And if it wasn't black, even the memories of this body before his arrival showed it was brown. What the hell was this guy talking about? Reaching up, he casually plucked a strand from his head and brought it in front of his eyes.

Crimson.

The blood-red strand glowed under the torchlight, a stark contrast to what he had expected. Xayn's brows furrowed. Was this some side effect of the trial? An anomaly? He gritted his teeth, stuffing the thought away for now. Whatever the reason, he couldn't let it shake him.

He glanced back at the commander, who was still watching him with sharp, calculating eyes. Xayn simply shrugged. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I was useful, right?"

The commander exhaled through his nose and crossed his arms. "That, you were."

With that, his attention shifted to the scene unfolding below. Xayn followed his gaze, and what he saw made him grimace.

The remaining soldiers were hard at work, dragging bodies and salvaging weapons. Blood soaked the ground, mingling with the dirt to form thick pools of crimson. Severed limbs were carried carefully—sometimes reverently, sometimes with shaking hands. The dead were more than just fallen soldiers; they were neighbors, childhood friends, siblings, parents, and lovers.

A young man knelt beside the torso of an older soldier, his hands trembling as he gently closed the man's vacant eyes. A woman sobbed silently as she cradled the head of someone who had once been her husband, whispering words only he would understand.

Some soldiers carried their dead with hollow eyes, too numb to grieve properly. Others hesitated before picking up the remains of a loved one, their hands shaking as if touching them would confirm a reality they weren't ready to accept.

This wasn't just death in war—this was tragedy, despair, and a cruel reminder of the cost of survival. He crossed his arms, suppressing a sigh. Xayn was no stranger to death, he had caused a lot of it personally.

Instead of the feeling of sadness the situation provoked he instead had questions. What was this battle? Why were these people even fighting? What had started all this? His mind spun with questions, yet he had no answers.

A whisper cut through the silence beside him.

"Why are we dying like this… to these monsters?"

It was the golden-eyed girl, her voice barely audible, thick with something between sorrow and frustration.

Xayn turned to look at her. He saw her fists clenched tightly at her sides, her lips pressed into a thin line. She had fought bravely during the battle, but now, standing amidst the aftermath, the weight of everything seemed to be catching up to her.

The commander exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering something under his breath before shaking his head. "Would you believe it, I haven't even told you lot why you were fighting yet."

Xayn's ears perked up at that. He turned to the commander with a raised brow. "Wait. You mean they don't even know?"

The man's expression darkened. "What do you mean they. You yourself shouldn't even know." He shook his head, his gaze distant. "But I will have to share it sooner or later."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

Xayn's mind raced. What the hell is going on in this place?

The commander simply sighed and gestured for them to wait as the soldiers continued gathering the bodies. However, before moving forward, he needed to clarify something. He turned his sharp gaze back to the blonde girl and asked,

"Why were you even there, manning the ballista?"

Xayn blinked at the commander's sudden question, sensing a shift in the conversation. The golden-eyed girl seemed caught off guard as she stammered,

"W-what do you mean by that?"

The commander crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.

"No one should have been manning the ballista. All the people who were trained to operate them had been systematically eliminated. The monsters targeted them first. That wasn't coincidence."

Xayn frowned as he processed this revelation. His mind flashed back to the moment before the monsters retreated. He remembered how one of the creatures that had climbed the wall locked its gaze onto the girl. It had ignored the more accessible prey around it and remained focused on her, even when he tried to provoke it it had hesitated. That wasn't normal predatory behavior—it was deliberate. They had been taking out the ballista operators on purpose.

He turned his attention back to the girl, intrigued by her response. She looked momentarily unsettled before speaking hesitantly.

"During the battle, I fell off the wall, onto the city side. When I hit the ground, I caught a glimpse of someone rushing out of the ballista tower and running away. I didn't understand why at the time." She bit her lip before continuing.

"At first, I was confused, but then I realized that unlike the other soldiers, I wasn't strong enough to fight in close combat. I figured the best way I could help was with the ballista. I've always been a decent shot, even if I don't know how to properly handle a bow, so I decided to try it. When I reached the tower, that's when I saw… him," she nodded toward Xayn, "fighting those creatures. So I took the chance to help."

Xayn tilted his head slightly. It wasn't an unbelievable story, but something about it felt oddly convenient. Before he could dwell on it, the commander let out a frustrated sigh and instead asked,

"Who exactly did you see leaving the tower?"

The girl furrowed her brows in thought before giving a hesitant answer.

"I didn't get a great look, but it was a man. He was short, kind of scrawny, but he was wearing heavy plate armor."

At her words, the commander visibly tensed. He closed his eyes briefly, pressing his fingers against his forehead as if suppressing a headache, before muttering a curse under his breath.

Xayn narrowed his eyes. The reaction was telling.

"So you know him?" he asked, more a statement than a question.

The commander exhaled through his nose before speaking in a low, displeased tone.

"That description fits my second-in-command." His voice was laced with irritation as he rubbed his temple. "And if it really was him, then I know exactly what happened here."

Xayn raised an eyebrow, but before he could probe further, the commander turned on his heel and gestured toward a nearby soldier.

"Find him. Now," he ordered.

The soldier gave a sharp nod and sprinted off, disappearing into the depths of the city.

Xayn exchanged a glance with the blonde girl, both of them sensing that whatever was going on, it was much bigger than either of them had initially thought.