The demon smirked, a twisted gleam in its bloodshot eyes, as Lorian's blade remained lodged in its chest. It chuckled, the sound sickly and bubbling, its voice strained yet triumphant. Black blood pooled from its lips as it gripped Lorian's arms with clawed hands, locking him in place.
"Got you now, pathetic light," it rasped, malice lacing every word. Just as Lorian started to pull back, the demon's aura swelled, a gravitational surge pulling everything toward the dark core gathering in its chest. A dense, dangerous energy compressed within the creature, pulling Lorian inexorably closer.
"Lorian!" Lysara's voice sliced through his mind, sharp with urgency. "You need to tear out its core—now! Right below the blade, straight into the heart of its darkness. Don't hesitate!"
Lorian's eyes narrowed, his gaze cold and unyielding as he prepared to finish the fight. He raised his free hand, fingers clenched, not flinching as the demon's claws dug into his arms. Pain was irrelevant; his focus was absolute.
"There! Right there!" Lysara's voice guided him, pinpointing the core's precise location.
With brutal precision, Lorian drove his hand deep into the demon's chest, feeling his fingers sink past sinew and bone until they closed around the core. It pulsed against his grip, dark energy surging in chaotic, frenzied waves, resisting him with every heartbeat. The demon's eyes bulged, its smirk faltering as shock and fear washed over its face.
"No… you wouldn't…" the demon choked, blood and bile spilling as it writhed, struggling to pull back in vain.
Ignoring its protests, Lorian tightened his grip, feeling the core's frantic energy twist and writhe under his hold. Shadows and light twisted around his arm, mingling with the Abyssal power within him. With a final, relentless pull, he tore the core free from the demon's chest, ripping it out in one swift, violent motion.
The demon's scream was raw, a howl of pure agony and disbelief as it stared at its own life force clutched in Lorian's blood-soaked hand. Dark fractures spread from the gaping wound in its chest, the edges crumbling as its body began to implode, unable to sustain itself without its core.
Yet the core itself did not go dim—it pulsed in Lorian's hand, radiating the same dark power that had flowed through the demon moments before. The energy twisted and swirled within it, a tangible remnant of the demon's rage and power, alive and potent.
Lorian's gaze flickered, realizing the dark weight of what he held. His grip tightened instinctively as the core pulsed with a chilling resonance, sending shivers up his arm. Then, beside him, a soft, familiar presence materialized: Lysara, in her feline form, her eyes fixed intently on the core.
"Lorian," she said, her voice calm but unyielding. "Give it to me."
He looked at her, understanding dawning in his eyes, and then he extended his hand, placing the pulsing core in her paws. As her small, delicate frame came into contact with it, her form began to glow faintly, her aura shifting as she focused, drawing the dark energy into herself.
The core's power surged one last time, the dark energy flowing from it and into Lysara as she absorbed it, her form shimmering as the last traces of the demon's essence faded. The core darkened, drained of its energy, before finally crumbling into dust in her grasp.
Lysara looked up, her eyes meeting Lorian's, her gaze clear and steady. "It's done," she murmured, her tone laced with a quiet intensity.
As the dust drifted to the ground, Lorian released a slow breath, his heartbeat finally beginning to steady. The forest was silent once more, the oppressive aura gone, leaving only the marks of battle and the faint warmth of his own magic lingering in the air.
Lorian looked down at Lysara, her feline form calm and composed after absorbing the last remnants of the demon's core. She glanced up at him, her red eyes filled with a quiet confidence, almost as if saying, "You did well."
With a final glance at the demon's remains—now a crumbled mass of ash and shadow—Lorian turned and sprinted back toward the others, his heartbeat loud in his ears as urgency spurred him forward. Shadows parted around him as he re-entered the clearing where Julian, Vivienne, and a now-stirring Celeste had gathered protectively around Elara.
Elara lay motionless where he had left her, her face pale, streaked with dirt and blood. Dropping to his knees beside her, Lorian gently touched her forehead, his fingers brushing aside the tangled strands of her hair. Her breathing was faint but steady, each shallow rise and fall of her chest filling him with both relief and dread.
"Elara..." he murmured, his voice soft but weighted as he tilted her face toward him. Her eyelids fluttered open, the faintest spark of recognition flickering in her eyes as she struggled to focus on him. Her lips parted, her voice barely more than a breath.
"L-Lorian..." she whispered, fragile and strained.
His hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as if to anchor them both. "I'm here, Elara. Just hold on, alright? I'm going to get you out of here."
Nearby, Julian leaned heavily on Vivienne, his face bruised and battered, yet he managed a weak smile. "Good to see you're still in one piece, Lorian. We were... starting to think we'd have to drag you out of here ourselves."
A thin, fleeting smile crossed Lorian's face. "You should know better than that. I'd have come back no matter what."
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Celeste, now alert and regaining her strength, moved to Elara's other side, reaching into her satchel for bandages. "Let's get her wounds wrapped as best we can. I don't have much left, but..." She glanced up, her gaze flicking between Lorian and the rest, her voice dropping to a softer tone. "She's hurt badly. We need to stabilize her before moving too much."
Lorian nodded, his focus entirely on Elara. "El, stay with me, alright? Just a bit longer. We'll be out of here soon."
Vivienne shifted her attention to Julian, who held his leg, his jaw clenched in pain. She raised an eyebrow, inspecting the swelling and the unnatural angle of his leg. "And you, Julian," she sighed, draping his arm over her shoulder, "managed to give yourself quite the break, haven't you?"
Julian let out a pained chuckle, though his attempt to mask his discomfort was evident. "Only a little scratch," he muttered, wincing as Celeste adjusted a makeshift splint around his leg. "Just need a breather. Nothing a hot bath wouldn't fix."
Celeste rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she tightened the bandages. "Oh, sure. Maybe once we're out of here and you're not trying to stand on a broken leg."
Vivienne supported him as he shifted his weight, and he gave her a lopsided grin. "Good thing I've got my own set of crutches," he muttered, nodding toward her, which earned him a scoff and an eye roll but also a steady grip from Vivienne.
Lorian's focus was unyielding as he finished wrapping Elara's shoulder as gently as he could, the cloth quickly absorbing fresh spots of red. He looked up and met Celeste's gaze; her expression mirrored his—determination mixed with a quiet urgency.
"Elara, I'm going to carry you, alright?" he whispered softly, his hand brushing against her cheek. She gave a faint nod, her eyes half-closed as she leaned into his touch. With careful movements, Lorian shifted her arms around his neck and positioned her so she could lean against his back. Wrapping his arms under her knees, he lifted her, feeling her weight settle against him as her head rested on his shoulder.
"Let's go," he said firmly, his voice a steady anchor as he rose, feeling Elara's soft, shallow breaths against his neck.
Julian nodded, gritting his teeth as he leaned more heavily on Vivienne and Celeste. "We'll follow you, Lorian. Let's get out of this nightmare."
With that, they began their cautious journey through the twisted, smoke-laden forest, the looming outline of the stadium guiding them. The darkened symbol still hung ominously over the arena, casting its malevolent presence across the landscape. Lorian moved with measured steps, mindful of Elara's fragile form on his back. Every so often, he felt her shift, murmuring incoherently, her words barely audible. In response, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, silently reassuring her that he was still there.
"Hey, Elara," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur as they pressed forward through the shadows. "Remember those games of hide-and-seek in the gardens? You always won... I think I still owe you a win or two."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, and she shifted slightly against him, her head leaning more into his shoulder. "You... always... cheated," she whispered weakly, a flicker of amusement glinting in her tired eyes.
Lorian chuckled, a sound that held both warmth and sadness. "Not cheating—just resourceful. Besides, it's not my fault if I just happened to be where you weren't looking."
Celeste gave Lorian a small smile, her relief evident as she walked alongside them. "Keep talking to her," she encouraged softly. "It's helping."
Julian stumbled slightly, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg, but he managed to flash Lorian a smirk. "You've got your hands full, big brother. Better not drop her—she'll hold it over your head forever."
Lorian's gaze softened as he glanced back at Elara, his resolve unwavering. "Don't plan on it. She's stronger than any of us, I think."
Vivienne, supporting Julian with Celeste on his other side, tightened her grip, her gaze scanning the tree line ahead. "We'll make it out together," she said quietly. "And when we do, Elara will be the one telling this story for years."
Elara's fingers weakly tightened on Lorian's shoulder, and her voice, barely audible, held a spark of determination. "I... better be... front and center," she whispered, a faint chuckle making Lorian smile despite the somberness around them.
The group moved onward, their steps slow and steady as they pushed through the desolate forest. Shadows clung to the air, the scent of smoke and charred wood lingering like a haunting reminder of the devastation they'd witnessed. As they neared the edge of the stadium grounds, the aftermath of the night became painfully clear—fallen students lay scattered among the roots and bushes, lifeless faces that would never return to the academy. Some were faces Lorian recognized; others were strangers, but each one etched a deeper resolve in his heart.
He held Elara a bit closer, the weight of his vow pressing down with every step. I'll keep you safe, he promised silently, his gaze hardening as he looked at the bodies they passed, each one a silent testament to the chaos that had descended upon them.
Julian stumbled again, his leg giving out momentarily, and he let out a hiss of pain. Vivienne caught him quickly, her brow furrowed in worry. "Easy, Julian," she murmured, holding him steady. "Don't push yourself too hard. We're almost there."
He offered her a strained smile. "Just... trying to keep up. Don't want to slow anyone down."
Celeste placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're doing fine, Julian. We're all getting out of here together."
Lorian glanced over at him, his voice calm and firm. "She's right. We're a team—no one's getting left behind. Just focus on each step, one at a time."
Elara shifted slightly, leaning more into his back as she mumbled, "You... you promise, Lorian?"
A surge of emotion rose within him, and he gripped her hand tightly, grounding himself in the promise he'd made. "I promise, El. I won't let anything happen to you. We're all going to make it out."
At last, the stadium's outer edge came into view, a small glimmer of hope amidst the desolation. Lorian's heart lifted slightly, but he remained vigilant, his gaze shifting to Julian and the others, their exhaustion clear but their determination unwavering.
Just as they approached the edge, Vivienne paused, her expression growing tense. "Wait... something doesn't feel right," she murmured, a note of unease in her voice.
The air felt colder, sharper, carrying an unnatural weight that sent a shiver down Lorian's spine. He held Elara close, his resolve hardening as he felt the oppressive energy lingering in the air.
"We're almost there," he said softly, his voice a mixture of steel and reassurance. "Keep moving. We just have a little further to go."
With renewed resolve, the group pressed forward, each step bringing them closer to what they hoped was safety. As they neared the stadium's boundary, Lorian looked back, meeting each of their gazes—Julian's weary determination, Vivienne's fierce resolve, and Celeste's quiet strength. Each look carried an unspoken promise: We'll survive this together.
As they finally stepped past the last row of trees, reaching the stadium's edge, Lorian felt Elara stir slightly against him. Her voice, soft but resolute, broke the silence. "You... won't leave us, will you?"
He tightened his grip, a fierce protectiveness igniting within him. "I promise, Elara. But... I still need to go back for Selene."