Reacher snarled, sweat dripping down his face as he swung his mace again. “You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind that Taunt, Cadmun!”

Cadmun blocked the blow, the shield once again flaring in a blinding crimson light as the mace slammed against it.

“I’ll be standing over your body soon enough, John!” Cadmun roared back, teeth gritted as he pressed his attack.

Their fight was a brutal dance of offence with little regard for their own safety, each desperate to land the first real blow. Cadmun’s sword flashed again, slicing through the air towards Reacher’s side. Reacher barely managed to raise his shield in time, but the sword bounced off, drawn back towards the crimson glow like a moth to a flame. Reacher responded with a powerful swing of his mace, the heavy weapon crashing into Cadmun’s side. The force knocked Cadmun off balance for a split second, but he recovered, eyes blazing with determination.

“I won’t fall before you,” he growled, swinging again, his blade once more clashing against the metallic hum of Reacher’s Protection.

Neither man was willing to give ground. Each strike, each bash of shield and weapon, was aimed to break through that final layer of protection—to be the first to make the other bleed.

Meanwhile, Stick was frozen in place as realisation settled over him. The nagging suspicion that had been in the back of his mind for so long suddenly crystallised into certainty. The big man bulking in front of him, PP, was the traitor.

“Why did you do it?” Stick growled, stepping forward, his voice raw with betrayal. “Why did you mess with the fire?”

PP’s face remained calm, but his eyes glinted with defiance. “I told you your plan was dangerous.”

“You put us all in danger!” Stick spat, fury boiling to the surface.

“No,” PP replied coldly. “You did. And now you’re trying to run away.”

“That’s not true! I couldn’t have known if Reacher would ever show up on time or by himself!” Stick’s voice cracked with desperation. “I was ready to stay behind!”

“And now you’ve jumped at the first opportunity to escape.” PP stepped closer, his imposing stature towering over Stick. “It’s always the same with people like you. As long as it’s not you who gets hurt, nothing else matters.”

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Stick’s fists clenched. “You’re wrong! I am a hero! I help others, not hurt them!”

“Have you asked him?” PP’s gaze flicked to behind Stick.

Stick followed his gaze, his heart sinking. They were looking at Michael, who stood some distance away, staring blankly towards the horizon where the Blitz brothers had fled. He had been caught in the middle of all this—just another victim in the chaos.

“We… we all knew the risks when we signed up,” Stick said unconvincingly.

“Yes, but how many knew the reality?” PP asked. “How many regret taking that risk?”

“The Lords are safe!” one of the miners behind Stick yelled. “They’ll be back to free us too! It doesn’t matter what happens to us now. We will endure!”

PP’s demeanour didn’t change in the slightest. “What about Lydia, Stick? You said you’d protect her.”

The question hit Stick like a punch to the gut. PP was right. Things changed so much today, that I didn’t account for that. How could I not think of her?

He looked PP straight in the eyes. The big man waited for a response which he didn’t have. Ashamed, he averted his gaze and looked at the fight nearby. He witnessed Cadmun slicing Reacher’s neck, a bloodless attack, but painful nonetheless. Sir Cadmun Frost, a dear friend of his, was giving his all. And I couldn’t even keep a promise.

The slaves around them had had enough. With a cry, they surged forward, attacking PP from all sides. Although some of them were higher-levelled, their lack of proper weapons and armour levelled the fight. PP fought back with brutal efficiency, his size and strength making him a formidable opponent even against the odds.

“Go Stick!” a slave yelled. “Get that horse!”

But Stick’s legs were shaking. He tried to make a step forward; however, the crushing weight of his guilt kept him in place. The servants, Titor, Smith, Michael, Lydia, Cadmun… PP.

“Come on!” yelled another slave who managed to trip PP.

He saw how PP got pushed to the ground. The slaves jumped on him, holding his limbs and kicking him in the stomach and face. To his side, he saw Cadmun barely managing to dodge a blow from the Mace. The exhaustion slowly started to creep up on him. Reacher on the other side seemed as energetic as ever. Whenever Cadmun took a step back to get out of the way of an attack, Reacher used the opening to make his shield disappear. A shining light formed on his left hand which flashed all around him for a split second, before his shield would reappear in his hand again. His spells! Of course! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

image [https://i.imgur.com/rkJMsWK.jpeg]

He swung his mace like there was no tomorrow and whenever Cadmun was unable to dodge, he tried to catch the attacks with his shield, sometimes with, sometimes without the crimson flash. Damn it! There’s no time to falter now! Get a move on!

He tried to reassure himself. You can’t save everyone. They signed up for this. They signed up for this. You can’t save everyone.

No matter how often he repeated it in his head, he just couldn’t step forward. The horse seemed so far away. Come on, Stick. Come on! What kind of hero are you?

Suddenly, Stick was grabbed by his shoulders from behind.

“What the fuck are you doing, Recruit?” Michael screamed. “Stop wasting their sacrifice and run!”

With that, Stick was pushed forward.