Agan’s breath was ragged as he staggered back, his vision blurring, the edges of his world narrowing to the few feet in front of him. Everywhere around him, the defenders of Murkrest fought with the last shreds of their strength. Elder Saka’s chants filled the air, her words mixing with the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded.

The empire’s soldiers pressed in, relentless, their shields forming an impenetrable wall as they advanced. Murkrest’s fighters, bloodied and exhausted, were forced back with each step, their circle tightening around the village square. Agan could feel the desperation thick in the air, the reality of their impending defeat pressing down on him like a weight.

He glanced around, searching for familiar faces—Garik, Aska, Elder Saka—needing some reminder that he was not alone in this nightmare. He caught sight of Garik, his jaw clenched, his spear raised defiantly despite the blood staining his clothes. Aska was nearby, her eyes blazing, every swing of her weapon filled with grim determination.

But for every empire soldier they felled, another seemed to take his place. The circle was shrinking, their defenses failing, and Agan knew they couldn’t hold out much longer.

Elder Saka’s voice rose above the din, her staff raised as she shouted, “Protect the center! Hold them here!”

Her words rallied the remaining defenders, and Agan felt a surge of strength as he planted his feet, his spear held ready. The empire soldiers advanced with grim precision, their eyes cold and determined, and Agan met them with everything he had.

He jabbed forward, his spear finding a gap in one soldier’s armor. The man fell with a grunt, and Agan barely had time to pull his weapon free before another soldier took his place. The clash of metal on metal rang in his ears, each impact jarring his bones, but he fought on, his movements fueled by sheer will.

Garik was beside him, a steady presence in the chaos, his face set in fierce concentration as he fought off another wave of attackers. “They’re not letting up,” he muttered, his voice strained.

Agan nodded, his breath coming in harsh gasps. “We just… have to keep fighting.”

But even as he said the words, he could feel the weight of them slipping, his resolve beginning to fray. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and every swing of his spear felt heavier, each movement slower than the last.

A flash of light drew his attention, and he turned to see one of the empire’s mages, his hands glowing with the eerie blue of mana. The mage chanted, his voice carrying above the noise, and Agan’s blood ran cold as he realized the spell’s target: Elder Saka.

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Before he could shout a warning, the spell struck. A bolt of energy shot forward, hitting Saka with a force that sent her staggering back, her staff falling from her hand. She crumpled to the ground, her expression frozen in shock, the strength in her voice silenced.

Agan’s heart twisted as he watched her fall, the reality of the loss hitting him like a physical blow. Elder Saka, who had led them with courage, who had held Murkrest together, was gone.

A scream of rage tore from his throat, raw and unbidden, and he charged forward, his spear raised, the grief and fury propelling him into the thick of the empire’s ranks. He struck out blindly, his vision clouded with tears, each swing fueled by a desperate need to avenge her, to give her sacrifice meaning.

But the soldiers were too many, their ranks too solid, and Agan felt himself being pushed back, his strength ebbing away with every blow. The last of the defenders were falling around him, their cries lost in the roar of the empire’s advance, and he knew, with a hollow ache, that Murkrest was lost.

Garik grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Agan! We have to go. If we stay, we’ll die here.”

Agan resisted, his eyes fixed on the square, on the bodies of those they’d lost, on the last remnants of the village that had been his home. But Garik’s grip tightened, his voice fierce. “Agan, listen to me! If we die now, it’s over. But if we survive… we can fight back. We can make them pay.”

Agan’s heart pounded, torn between the need to stay, to fight until there was nothing left, and the cold logic of Garik’s words. He looked around, saw the few remaining defenders retreating, their faces etched with defeat, their movements slow and reluctant.

Finally, he nodded, the decision settling heavily in his chest. “All right. Let’s go.”

They moved together, slipping through the chaos, using the cover of the thick smoke and tangled roots to stay hidden. The empire’s soldiers were focused on the square, their attention fixed on their victory, and Agan and Garik managed to slip past the line, retreating into the shadows.

As they moved deeper into the swamp, Agan felt the weight of each step, the reality of their loss pressing down on him. He glanced back, catching one final glimpse of Murkrest—the village square where he’d grown up, now littered with the bodies of his friends and family, the lanterns still flickering amid the ruins.

When they were far enough from the battle, Garik finally slowed, his chest heaving as he leaned against a tree. Agan slumped beside him, his body numb, his mind reeling as he struggled to process what they’d just witnessed.

“They took everything,” Agan whispered, his voice barely audible. “They destroyed everything.”

Garik nodded, his gaze distant, his face etched with grief. “But they didn’t take us. And as long as we’re still breathing, we have a chance to fight back.”

Agan clenched his fists, the weight of his rage and grief settling over him like a mantle. He thought of Tarek, of Elder Saka, of every soul who had stood beside him, who had given their lives to protect Murkrest. And in that moment, he made a silent vow.

“I’ll come back,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady. “One day, I’ll come back. And I’ll make them pay for every life they took.”

The words were a promise, one he felt echoing in his bones, filling him with a fierce, unyielding resolve. He looked at Garik, who nodded, his expression grim but determined. They were the last of Murkrest’s defenders, the final remnants of a village that had been all they’d known.