Thaliondor stood hidden behind the ranks, his resplendent cloak fluttering amidst the smoke and fire.
He dared not step onto the frontlines. Each time his eyes swept over the sight of his soldiers being hurled aside, cut down, or bursting into red shards of blood, a chill crawled down his spine.
His frustration only deepened as the Fallen Elves showed little regard for the orders he gave.
Varzak had gone to assassinate Yofilis, leaving temporary command in his hands, yet the Fallen Elves treated him as though he were nothing.
They threw themselves into battle like bloodthirsty beasts, intent only on slaughter, and he was forced to pretend he still held control over them.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Kizmel clenched her teeth, her violet eyes blazing with anger and resolve.
She swung her blade while observing not only the enemy's every movement but also the gaze of her comrades.
The Dark Elf commander in the rear did not merely shout orders...he... himself charged into the fray, his shoulders already drenched in blood, yet he did not retreat a single step.
Still, Kizmel could feel the exhaustion gnawing at her troops. These Dark Elves had endured many sleepless nights, ever tense, bracing for sudden attacks.
Now, as the true enemy surged forth, their legs felt heavy, their arms trembled. Their strikes carried little weight, their steps no longer bore the agility of before.
The clash of steel echoed throughout the great hall, but beneath it she caught the sound of ragged breathing, hoarse roars, even pained groans.
"If only… the Viscount were here now," Kizmel muttered under her breath, lips pressed tight.
She knew that, despite her title as a royal knight and her skill in cutting down enemies, her words could never stir hearts as powerfully as those of Viscount Yofilis.
To the people here, he was the symbol, the pillar they leaned upon.
Kizmel lifted her head, violet eyes flashing with pride, though her thoughts remained unknown. Then she tightened her grip on her hilt, forcing the brief flicker of fear in her chest to vanish.
Fear was instinct, Kizmel knew that well. She had trembled before mighty foes as a recruit, lain awake haunted by the deaths of comrades.
But over the years she had learned to face and accept it. Not to destroy fear, but to bend it to her will, refusing to let it steer her mind or body.
Drawing a deep breath, Kizmel pivoted, knocking aside the enemy blade aimed for her chest.
Her movements flowed like water, her slightly curved sword carving violet streaks of light through the air.
[Flash Thrust!]
[Vertical!]
[Horizontal Arc!]
Three sword skills chained together in flawless succession. Wisps of crimson pixels floated gently in the frigid morning air, the enemy before her bursting apart into shards of light.
Without delay, Kizmel retreated swiftly, falling back in step with Ren, Kirito, and Asuna.
The four of them formed a tight defensive line. Each time Ren hurled an enemy away with his blade, Asuna immediately followed up, striking while the foe was off-guard, and Kirito's cut would seal the gap with brutal precision.
Their enemies outnumbered them, leveled higher, yet still toppled under the seamless coordination.
Kizmel's eyes swept over the three, then her voice lowered, firm, urgent:
"Listen to me, all of you. I need the three of you to return to the fortress, find the Viscount, and bring him here. Only with his presence can this line be held together."
Her tone was resolute, leaving no room for refusal.
Her violet gaze passed over each face, first Kirito, the boy whose sharp eyes carried stubbornness and an unbearable weight of responsibility.
Then it lingered a little longer on Ren, where amidst the storm she saw a strange composure glimmering within his sapphire eyes.
Lastly, her eyes fell on Asuna, the young girl burning with fierce determination.
Kizmel knew she could not abandon her post. Even if she were to march into the Viscount's chamber herself, he might not emerge.
Not one for words...nor for diplomacy, if the task were to achieve a goal by pointing a sword and threatening a noble, Kizmel would do it without hesitation. But persuasion… that was not her strength.
Yet her knight's instinct told her this: these three Plaedem, they could succeed.
They could bring Yofilis out of that room, if only once.
She gripped her hilt tighter, her voice urgent: "I trust you. Go now, before everything collapses."
Her words cut through the air like a blade. Ren, Kirito, and Asuna faltered, their eyes turning toward her.
"Asuna, Kirito, Ren…" her tone sharpened, unyielding.
Ren bit down hard on his lip, his hand trembling upon the hilt.
He glanced at the chaos behind Kizmel, the Dark Elf soldiers straining against the enemy, their sweat and blood painting a merciless portrait.
'To leave them behind… should I… can I abandon them?' The thought struck him, but then he met Kizmel's eyes, steadfast, full of faith, and his pounding heart seized.
"Asuna…" Kirito began, voice low. "If we go, she'll have to hold all this alone…"
Asuna bit her lip, eyes torn with conflict. "I know. But… if we don't, the rear defenses will fall. And when that happens, Kizmel, and everyone...will have no chance left."
Ren exhaled sharply, as though forcing down the fury in his chest. "Damn it. We'll go… let's go."
His eyes locked with Kizmel's for a heartbeat.
No further words were needed. To refuse now would be to betray the trust she had placed upon them.
Kirito tightened his grip, nodding firmly. "Fine. We'll go. But Kizmel, promise you'll hold until we return."
Kizmel's lips curled in a fleeting, confident smile amid the meaningless slaughter. "I am a knight of the royal family, after all."
Asuna drew a sharp breath, the cold air filling her lungs. She bade Kizmel farewell with worried eyes before turning with Ren and Kirito.
The three figures dashed down the main corridor of the fortress, vanishing into the black stone halls, leaving Kizmel and the brave Dark Elf soldiers to hold against wave after wave of enemy assault.
The clash of steel, the roars of battle echoed from the harbor gates, a grim reminder that every passing second was priceless.
"Faster!" Kirito hissed, his eyes locked forward. With his sharp memory, he was the one leading the way.
But the path to the Viscount's office was anything but calm. In the dim corners of the twisting hallways, the Forest Elves had already slipped inside.
They struck down Dark Elf soldiers who had been separated from their formation, and a few even charged into the civilian quarters near the inner keep.
"They're targeting the civilians!" Asuna shouted, her eyes widening as she spotted a group of Elves storming the marketplace, where Dark Elf families were desperately trying to flee.
Without hesitation, Ren surged ahead, his Windslash sword carving a clean arc through the air.
One Forest Elf, already weakened after clashing with scattered Dark Elf soldiers, was caught off guard by Ren's sudden strike from behind. He fell instantly, shattering into fragments of bright red light.
"Save them first!" Ren said, his voice tinged with guilt.
Asuna spun around, her rapier flashing like lightning as it pierced straight through the chests of two enemies about to cut down a Dark Elf child.
"Go! Hurry!" she yelled, pulling the boy toward his mother. The woman bowed quickly, tears streaking her face, before clutching her child and running.
Kirito held the rear, his sword sweeping in wide arcs to drive back a handful of foes.
"We don't have time, we need to reach Viscount Yofilis before the defenses completely collapse! How the hell did they even get inside?"
Ren glanced at the civilians who had just escaped, his grip on his sword tightening.
Saving just a few… wasn't enough. If they wanted everyone to survive, they had to force the Viscount to appear.
His eyes flickered toward the flames consuming parts of the castle, and for a moment he considered burning it down himself, then shook his head at the reckless thought, quickly stamping out a small fire nearby.
The trio pressed forward, leaving behind grateful eyes mixed with smoke and chaos.
They fought as they ran, cutting down stragglers. Pixelated blood scattered across the dark halls.
At last, the corridor opened into a vast space: before them stood a towering set of double doors, intricately carved, the path to Viscount Yofilis's office.
But right in front of those doors, a squad of Fallen Elves emerged as if they had been waiting, their pale eyes glowing with madness in the dark.
Ren clenched his teeth, raising his sword. "Damn it… they always show up at the worst possible time."
"But how did they get this far inside?" he muttered, sharing the same unease reflected in Kirito and Asuna's eyes.
The wide stone hallway led straight to the sealed doors of the Viscount's office, as if untouched by the chaos within the castle.
Dark Elf soldiers and civilians were scattered everywhere, some cornered against the walls, trembling beneath the blades of the Fallen Elves.
Ren, Kirito, and Asuna charged in, their swords gleaming silver arcs in unison.
Their coordination was flawless.
The Fallen dropped one after another, their bodies bursting into scarlet pixels that scattered across the floor before fading into nothingness.
Clashing steel echoed through the hall, mixing with screams and cries of pain.
For now, everything still seemed under control ... or so Ren thought.
But every time he believed things were safe, something always went wrong.
And this time was no exception. Just as the great doors swung open with the special pass Kirito had received from the Viscount in a previous quest.
"You kids are more useful than I expected." A chilling voice, harsh and hollow like a corpse's whisper, slithered into their ears.
From the shadows at the end of the corridor, a figure stepped forth. Tall yet gaunt, with a scar running from his forehead to his neck that twitched alongside a twisted grin. His skin was pale, corpse-like.
Varzak.
The air instantly grew heavy, an invisible pressure forcing them to halt.
All three felt their legs prickle as though stabbed by needles. From the aura alone, they could tell, this man was strong.
Kirito's hand grew cold on his sword hilt. The thought of someone like this appearing here shocked him, and his mind immediately began racing for countermeasures, for any chance of victory.
Ren's grip on his sword tightened, his breathing ragged.
He understood at once: if all three fought here, they wouldn't make it to the Viscount… worse, none of them would.
"Go!" The word tore from Ren's lips, rough and hoarse.
Kirito and Asuna spun around.
"You can't mean...?! Asuna, you go meet the Viscount. I'll stay with Ren to hold him off," Kirito snarled.
"No. You should go with her. Sorry, it's not that I doubt you… but even if both of us fight together, I'm not sure we can…"
"Asuna, take him and go! Without the Viscount, this fortress will fall!" Ren roared, forcing himself upright, blocking the path between Varzak and the doors.
Asuna bit her lip, her eyes flashing with protest. But then she looked at Ren, his body trembling from tension, yet his gaze unwavering.
Varzak's grin stretched, the scar on his face pulling like a bleeding wound. "Oh… just you alone? Brave, kid."
Ren gripped his sword, the blade humming faintly, pale blue light gathering as his skill prepared to unleash.
Kirito clenched his teeth, then finally laid a hand on Ren's shoulder for a brief moment. "We'll come back, as fast as we can."
Then both he and Asuna turned, dashing through the doors as they closed behind them. They believed in Ren. Even if they didn't want to, they trusted he could hold out.
Ren drew a deep breath, his heart pounding as he faced Varzak, an enemy whose mere presence made his instincts scream at him to flee.
But he didn't retreat. The fear only sharpened his senses. It no longer froze his body like it once had.