The scales of battle tipped in Gren’s favour. She offered her sanity as a sacrifice, but for that, a beautiful blade she got, one as dark as iron-rich blood.

Emma did not fear Gren’s weapon. She leaped forward, sending her flail on a swift flight at the enemy’s head, where, before it could have even got close to Gren, her blood-blade sliced it into two.

It was a surprise, made clear by Emma’s dumbfounded face. The two halves of the weapon’s head flew in opposite directions, Gren proudly smiled watching them fall into the mud.

“My turn,” she proclaimed before charging the disarmed half-elf.

Emma could barely react, let alone defend herself. She raised her arms, trying to block the attack by hand without remembering just how sharp the weapon was.

Gren rushed towards her with the speed of a hunting cheetah… and stopped after passing.

Emma turned around, shocked by the lack of an attack. Swiftly observing her armour, she confirmed no signs of an assault, nor did she feel any pain or discomfort.

“Hey,” she yelled, pointing at Gren, “Why didn’t you attack me?”

Gren smugly spun around the blade in her hand. “I did. My weapon is just too sharp, so you probably haven’t even realized the damage I dealt.”

Emma recoiled. And, as she did, a message floated before her face, the kind to display dealt damage or restored health.

[ -1 HP ]

[ Emma Goldshoe (Lv. 3) ]

[ 11/15 HP ]

Raising her hands to the damage numbers, she noticed a thin fountain of blood spatter from where her pinkie finger should have been. The wound filled her vision, dizziness was cast upon her, and when her brain finally registered the wound, she screamed. Her voice filled the wet landscape and echoed into the woods.

Axel observed from the side with a terrified expression. Not only did Gren tip the scales against their best fighter, but her madness hit a new high, proved by her father’s sudden sacrifice for mana.

There was no denying it: he had no chance against Gren. Should Emma lose the fight, he will be the next one to fall, as Gren would pursue him to the world’s end. The best action would have been to help Emma get an advantage.

“But how? I cannot draw her attention away, because she would attack me and kill me in an instant.”

The thought of running crossed his mind again, but this time he was quick to close it out.

“No, there is no way she wouldn’t find me. Emma’s death would be pointless. Best case scenario, Emma somehow defeats her, but then Emma becomes my enemy.”

In the past, he has defeated zombies and bandits. Although none were as smart as Gren, they were a lot stronger than him, but Axel still managed to defeat them.

He stopped to consider; what made him win before? Of course, he had companions, but what else helped him survive?

The mist of the abandoned cave shrouded him, allowing him sneak attacks.

The snow of the mountain hid him from Baltimore until he could get behind the giant.

The fake fall, which he orchestrated to throw gold into the bandit leader’s ballista, breaking the machine.

He used his surroundings and unexpected components to vanquish his enemies every time. His strength lay not in his body but in his mind, imagination, and ability to improvise.

“Wait…” His eyes widened. Looking around, he searched the ruins, looking for where the fire was largest. It seemed to come from a certain direction. He rushed to the ruins there and began digging.

Nyeander hid close by, behind a large stack of wood. Heidl sat next to her, idly, as the catgirl cried.

The moving rubble got her attention, she looked out the corner, and when she saw Axel dig so determined, she called out.

“What are you doing?” Her voice barely had any strength. “Are you trying to dig yourself an escape? Have some pride. Don’t be one to die with dirt under your nails.”

Axel ignored her remarks, asking a question without even looking at her.

“Do you still have those chains? The ones you had attached to Gren’s mother?”

“Yes.”

Axel stopped digging. He found what he was looking for. But that did not warrant a smile.

“Give me the chains!”

- - -

Slash! The cut pushed back Emma. Slash! A long slice cut her face, barely missing her eye. Slash-slash! A piece of her breastplate got torn out.

Emma raised her arms to block her face. Tears ran down her cheeks. Yet, she gritted her teeth, showing the savagery of mad dogs.

Gren playfully spun the blade in her hand. “Come on! Beg! I might spare your life.”

“A true hero never begs for her life!”

“Hmph,” Gren’s grin subsided, “Do you still think you’re the hero of this tale? You fucking retard! It is I! I am the hero! Not you! The hero of this story is––“

“Me,” announced a voice behind Gren. Axel stood there, one-half of the chains strapped around his arm, the other dragged behind him.

Gren’s blood boiled. But, before she could have said anything, Axel raised his hand to stop her.

“Let’s get something straight, I cannot win against you. If I were to take even a step closer towards you, you could charge me and take my head before I even realize what just happened. For this reason, I want to propose a deal.”

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Suddenly, Gren burst forward with her blade raised. Just mere millimeters from his throat, she stopped.

Her speed was so quick, Axel did not even realize what happened first, just as he had foretold. He squealed in fear when he felt the blade lightly tap against his skin, leaving a tiny but razor-sharp wound.

“And why would I hear out what a worm like you have to say?”

Axel quickly collected himself, then cleared his throat. “Because I can offer you freedom.”

“Excuse me?”

“Were you to kill me in an ordinary fight, it wouldn’t satiate your thirst for revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“For me doubting the goodness of your heart. The clearness of your soul. Call it whatever you want it to be called! It would be left with an empty hole if you couldn’t satisfyingly defeat me.”

Gren cackled. “And what did you have in mind? A debate?”

“Not exactly.” Axel raised the chains. “We both tie these around one of our arms. That would leave us with what? Less than a meter of free space? Yeah, we’ll battle like that.”

Gren froze from shock. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. Nyeander quietly laughed from behind cover, sure that Axel has lost his mind.

“What?!” Gren shouted, insulted by the challenge. “Are you trying to make this easier for me?”

“No. In fact, I bet with utmost certainty that I will defeat you… in ten seconds.”

Silence. Tension filled the wet, smoky air, so thick it was almost graspable

An insane presumption. Emma’s veins brewed with rage. She could not believe the cockiness of Axel. He knew well he stood no chance against the beast that was the hemomancer, yet he would go on and purposefully cripple himself furthermore? She gritted her teeth, barely holding herself from cursing at the boy.

However, what she could not see was that Axel purposefully stood next to a pile of burning wood when he called out to Gren.

Gren grabbed the chains and tied them around her free arm. “Fine,” bitterness filled her laugh, “You got five seconds, starting now! Go!”

The first second. Axel lowered his arms and stared at Gren. She smiled with a frown.

The next second. Nothing.

The third. Still nothing.

Nyeander’s laugh grew louder. “No way… he doesn’t have a plan! We’re all going to die!”

The fourth second. Axel’s mouth opened in surprise as if he had just remembered something. He reached behind his back and pulled out a wine bottle, akin to those Gren made Emma drink. It was full.

The fifth second.

“Your Grandpa made these, right? He called them wine.”

The sixth second.

“Though I got to say, they are more akin to champagne.”

The seventh second.

“Not that I’m sad about it. Actually, it will make this a lot easier.”

The eighth second.

He took a deep breath. Though he braced himself for what was about to come, he knew well it would hurt, and not just a lot. It would be hell, the worst pain imaginable.

He shook the bottle, and the cork popped, spurting out a fountain of alcohol into the air, raining down back on them. Gren looked up, confused about what was going on.

The ninth second.

Axel looked over Gren’s shoulder, right into Emma’s eyes. Emma stared back at him with a frown, until she realized, that Axel was in tears.

“Please heal me once this is done, okay?”

The tenth second.

Something unforeseen happened. Something unthinkable.

Axel shifted his stance and leaned towards the burning pile blazing next to them. He let gravity take hold of his body and pull him into the flames, he closed his eyes, and letting out a roar of rage, fear, and determination, he dropped into the fire.

Gren was too late to realize what was happening. The chains holding them together pulled her after Axel, right into Hell’s mouth. The moment Axel made contact with the flames, the alcohol coating them lit on fire, spreading onto Gren, and engulfing them both.

Hell. That pain could not be described.

Both screamed with guttural cries, pouring their lungs out as their entire existence was overcome with nerve-piercing torment. The agony they both felt left them in an uncontrollable seizure of clawing at the air, rolling left and right to find an escape from the shrieking agony.

But there was none. And not because Hell was endless, but rather Axel’s wit. He knew he could not handle the pain and remain in the flames, so when he dropped into the fire, he made sure to get the chains get stuck on something, trapping himself and Gren in a human-sized deep fryer.

The rest watched on in horror. Only Nyeander managed to snap out of it, rushing to Axel and trying to pull him out of the flames. It was hard, but seemingly not impossible.

Gren fought the chains uncontrollably. She raised her air-thin blade to sever it, as it had severed Emma’s incredibly sturdy armour, however, there was a catch.

When she attacked the chains, to her surprise, nothing happened. That was because the blade was made out of blood, which had vaporized in the oven-hot heat. What she did was lightly tap the chains, which were less than enthusiastic about breaking apart.

“You motherfucker!” She clawed at Axel. “You knew my blood would get evaporated by the flames, rendering my magic useless!”

Axel would have laughed in her face if he was not screaming in pain.

Nyeander managed to pull her out of the flames. At that point, Axel could not handle it anymore and shook off the chains. Rolling around in the mud, he managed to put out the fire, though the pain did not stop, nor did his skirling.

Gren pulled herself out of the fire. Although she was still burning, her pure rage made her push on, focusing more on creating a new blade and killing Axel than saving herself.

The blood from her veins began to pour. A tiny but razor-sharp blade appeared in her hand. Focused, letting out a battle cry, she charged forth on all fours to finish the job.

And then, Nyeander stomped on her neck.

Something broke. She tried to look up, but her head would not move. Then, another kick came.

Nyeander cried. She stomped and stomped again until a hymn of cracks emanated. She continued her assault far after the light left Gren’s eyes. She continued, with tears rolling from her eyes, her crying slowly joining Axel’s screaming.

There were no better words for it, other than Hell on earth.

Somewhere in the cacophony of guttural bellow, Axel rolled in front of a puddle. As lightning struck above, he saw his face for a moment, but his brain could not make sense of it.

He looked nothing like himself, rather blood-filled vomit. His face was utterly unrecognizable. To be honest, it was a miracle he was still conscious after that.

Mustering his power, he clawed towards Emma.

“Please,” he cried, “Heal me! It hurts, it hurts so much!”

Emma watched as he crawled to her leg and grabbed it. Then she watched as Axel looked up at her with what little remained of his eyes. Then stared on as he finally realized it.

Because Emma was like a statue frozen in time, staring on without emotions as life rots before her.

There was no helping Axel. Not because she could not.

She refused to.

Axel’s eyes widened, before being kicked away by Emma. Nyeander noticed this and rushed over, leaving Gren’s destroyed corpse behind.

“What are you doing?!” Nyeander yelled. “Can’t you see he’s dying? Heal him, quick!”

“No.”

“W-What? Hey, I think I misheard what you just said!”

“No. I’m not healing him.” She spoke, watching as Axel fell in and out of consciousness.

“Hey! Stop fucking around!” Nyeander raised a fist, but Emma ignored it. Instead, she crouched down in front of Axel, addressing him directly.

“When I first met you, I thought you were a hero. If not one with experience, one with potential. But a hero does not use underhanded tactics. A hero does not deceive his enemies. A hero wins with honor and strength. Your victory was the fruit of deception and cowardice. You are not a hero. You are no better than an ordinary thug.”

She grabbed Axel by the hand and pulled him along the mud. The rain caused the nearby rivers to flood the area, trapping them on a small island of dirt. Emma dragged him to the edge of it.

“I’m keeping the chest that was full of gold,” she added, “It will cover the equipment I need to create a cure for the undead infestation. It will be in better hands. I would not want you to waste it on alcohol and women. I see you like both very much…”

Throwing Axel in front of the water, she used her leg to turn him over like a slain animal.

Axel looked back at her, fighting to remain conscious.

“Why are you doing this?” he forced out the words.

“Because unlike you, I practice discipline.”

With those parting words, she kicked Axel into the flood. His body sunk underwater, disappearing.

Nyeander rushed after him, but it was useless. She could not find him, nor keep up with the fast-moving flood.

Left powerless, she panicked, but when it became clear to her, she just fell to her knees. There was nothing she could do. No matter how loud she yelled, how hard she screamed, nothing would prove helpful.

Axel was gone.