**Smoke Screen**

The spell itself seemed worthless at first since it disappeared when the bastard reached forward with his gloved hand.

Nonetheless, it bought me an instant. It was all that I needed.

**Pillar**

A great mass of stone erupted from the ground, shaking the foundations of this ancient castle.

Before the man could react, the pillar was upon him and crashed against his chest at an unbelievable speed, unbecoming for such a massive construct.

The target was launched into the air.

This spell, "Pillar", was cast by activating mana inside the bedrock and sending a portion of it to the surface. Therefore, at the surface of the spell, no mana was needed. So, the spell was not canceled by the anti-mana armor.

The murderer reached the ceiling violently and dropped his dagger in a cloud of dust. Then, he coughed out some blood and started his descent.

Waiting underneath was Léopold, sword at the ready.

With accurate timing, the prince thrust his blade forward and intercepted the enemy mid-fall. The sword pierced the man's belly, and the prince kept pushing until the tip of the sword emerged from the back of his victim.

Adeptly, he pulled back his weapon, and a torrent of blood sprayed out of both sides of the wound.

Possibly out of instinct, Léopold leaped backward, putting some distance between the bleeding man and himself.

The man rose up slowly. His bloodshot eyes turned to Léopold.

"How dare you!"

Curiously enough, his facial expression was similar to the one I wore earlier. And, just like I did, he entered a murderous frenzy.

He lunged forward, aiming to bury his fist into the young prince's jaw. Léopold certainly knew how to take a punch, but I doubted he would come out unscathed of this one. A clean hit would be the end of him.

Therefore, I did as one would expect from the captain of the Crown’s Overseers. I put myself in the line of fire, between the hope of mankind and its despair.

Being slightly taller than Léopold, I took the hit right in the throat. My trachea caved in, leaving me unable to breathe.

As if that wasn't enough, the bastard kicked me in the gut and sent me flying back to the entrance of the shelter.

In vain, I desperately tried to breathe.

There were hundreds of ways to get out of this predicament. However, my flawed human brain could only visualize one thing - impending doom.

I was panicking, a perfectly human reaction to choking. Even though I still had several minutes before suffocation, my mind was blank.

The man filth picked up his weapon.

**I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna diee!**

Still, my doom would not come from suffocation but from the man that took my wife's life, wielding a dagger still drenched in her blood.

That murderous glare was still present in his eyes. With a thundering roar and a tight grip on the handle of his weapon, he charged forward.

I was still searching for air, awaiting the inevitable.

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**It's not like anything is keeping me here anymore.**

My weak-willed, pathetic self-sought once more the most expeditive way out of my struggle - death.

Until.

"Dumbass, what are you trying to do by crying in the doorway?!"

**I'm not crying, you uncultured swine! This is a normal reaction from a human body that just got its throat bashed in!**

For the record, my eyes were actually tearing up, but that was simply an after-effect of the choking. I was obviously not crying, duh.

"No worries. A hero always comes in to save the day at the very last moment!"

**Wow, I've never seen him so eloquent before. He must have been practicing this sentence in the mirror.**

Between myself and my foe, there stood a tall homo sapiens, Albert. He was standing there with an idiotic smug on his face and a dagger through his chest.

I felt a soft hand on my shoulder as a kind warmth revitalized my body. In an instant, my throat and every injury I had since then disappeared. That was Lilliana for you.

"Hey, Albert!" I shouted with my newly functional vocal cords. "You could have easily deflected that blade, but you wanted to make your entrance more impactful by getting stabbed, didn't you, you poser?"

"Oh, look who's talking," sneered Élise.

"Yeah, look who's talking!" repeated Albert. "I wanna be in the legends too, bro! And with Lilliana around, I don't have to worry about dying from a tiny hole in the chest. So, creepy dude, would you mind pulling it out? It hurts..."

"HA! That's what she... he said... Oh god, I just visualized it... I'm gonna have to live with this image for the rest of my life," said Rich, miserably failing that nasty pun attempt.

"Anyway, why are you guys so late?" I changed the subject.

“The Warden distracted us with his typical driveling…” Sighed an exasperated Lilliana. “And he ended up setting us on the wrong path. We wasted quite a bit of time.”

"Well, whatever, you’re here now, I guess. Lilliana, can you heal Ana, please?"

"Lynch..." She looked at me with concern. "She's clearly dead. You know I can't do anything about that. I can't bring the dead back to life."

"Well, try something, you dumb bitch!" I snapped.

Once again, I was seeking a way out of my torment. This time, by blaming someone else for my failure. To disconnect me from this tragedy, I would put the responsibility on someone else's shoulders. Certainly, that would keep the guilt at bay for a while.

But deep down, I knew she was right. Anastacia was gone.

Rich stepped forward, "I might be able to do something. Keep that big guy busy for a bit."

The dwarf kneeled next to my wife's corpse and started, with both of his overlapped palms pushing down her chest, compressing her rib cage in rhythmic succession.

"What are you doing?!" screamed a horrified Lilliana. "Do not defile the corpse, you sick-"

"I'm trying to reanimate her! This is a dwarven medical technique. Now fuck off, you're messing up my rhythm!"

Well, looks like we were all on edge, barking at each other like wild dogs. Even though we were experienced warriors, we were not used to such hellish scenes.

Meanwhile, the murderer was watching us without moving an inch. Displaying a perverse smirk, he was genuinely enjoying the situation he created. Albert was grimacing from what appeared to be a blazing pain, as the one handling the dagger was unconsciously, or instinctively, twisting the blade in his wound.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just here enjoying your pathetic selves tearing each other down as your only chance at saving your world slips through your fingers! With that said, I should get back to work and take care of this midget. It would be problematic if this redhead actually came back to life."

He pulled out his blade rapidly and reached Rich in a single bounce. He thrust his dagger -

"Starshield!"

The barrier was meant to protect Rich from the assailant, but it shattered instantly, and couldn't even slow down the knife.

Rich knew perfectly well that the bastard was coming for him, but he kept going, never missing a beat on his reanimation attempt.

The dagger penetrated his cheek and tore it all the way. Blood spewed several paces in every direction. The sight was horrifying, his glorious beard ruined forevermore and his callous face disfigured.

However, the homicidal maniac's assault could have been a lot worse. Indeed, the man faltered and misaimed when an arrow pierced his forearm.

"Are you guys even trying?" exclaimed Élise after successfully disturbing the blade's trajectory. "This motherfucker is out here stabbing everyone, and I don't see anyone spanking his ass! What happened to our Oh almighty wizard?"

"Oh, shut up! This little piece of shit will get what he deserves. I'm just taking my time punishing him."

Élise, through some miraculous gift, could lighten the mood by insulting the people affected.

Lilliana reached the injured Albert and healed his gaping wound with a touch of her fingers.

"What's wrong, Albert? You're fully healed..."

Albert stood motionless and muttered, "It’s... It’s the king...!"

"What are you talking about? He's..." Lilliana took a moment to look behind her and stare at the colossal bearded psychopath. "Is that... Arkosh? But he's dead... I confirmed his death myself six years ago!"

"Who?" I asked.

"Arkosh, the Tyrant! The previous king, the one that was overthrown by mankind itself!"

"Oh, right, that guy. I took him out in like five seconds, so I didn't remember his face! Haha, looks like he's back up! I didn't know zombies were a thing..."

Arkosh looked back at us puzzlingly, "Arkosh? No, my name is Low-Crap, you rude little shits!"