His mind immediately answered.
'If I escape, they'll go to the Kulidii. They'll get the magic. They'll come to Percvale. And when they do...'
Darion imagined his undead disappearing. His strongest advantage erased. His knights surrounded by thousands of warriors. Percvale's walls being breached. His citizens running. The farms burning. The castle falling. His people losing everything they had built.
'I'll be cooked.'
Darion's eyes remained closed.
Then another thought came.
'But if I fight now...'
He slowly opened his eyes.
---
Darion looked around.
The settlement was in chaos. Warriors were everywhere. His undead were fighting. The gate was right there. Freedom was only a short distance away.
But Darion didn't move toward it.
Instead, he turned.
Back toward Vrethka.
Back toward the army that wanted him dead.
Back toward the people preparing to obtain the one thing that could make him powerless.
His expression hardened.
'If I run, they get stronger. If I stay...'
