70. Chapter 70
T he honored dead of Vaelaran rose in silence, their steps heavy. Inevitable.
At Ren’s side, Lucan’s blade quivered in his hands, time resuming without Zakhar’s magic, and Talen’s jaw set grimly as the first of his ancestors stepped forward, all crowned in dust.
“What the hell happened?” Talen asked.
Ren said, “Long story. Zakhar froze time, so that’s why you two missed everything. He’s the god of madness, he betrayed all of us, and—” her voice cracked, “—I have Vorthorax living inside me. Somehow they’re connected, and Zakhar wants revenge.”
Lucan’s voice cracked. “So, we’re fighting a god and you’re basically a dragon egg?”
Ren shot Lucan a look. “I’m not going to birth the bastard. Shards of his soul were bound to me by the Embersworn. That’s why my parents were killed.”
An undead lurched toward them, and Talen didn’t hesitate. His blade cleaved through it in one brutal, practiced swing. “The bastard betrayed us all,” Talen snarled, eyes blazing. “God of madness or not, he’ll answer for this.”
Ren’s pulse roared in her ears. Her fire shuddered to life, licking up her arms as another corpse lunged. She carved through with a slash of flame, the body collapsing.
Talen cut down another undead, teeth bared. “Where did Zakhar go?”
Ren snorted. “Ran like a cowardly fuck with no spine.”
Another corpse lunged forward.
And another.
“To your left!” Talen shouted. His sword sang as he split one through the chest, but even as the corpse fell, two more clawed from their sarcophagi, reaching with skeletal fingers.
Lucan cursed under his breath. He fought like a storm, his twin blades flashing as he cut down the risen nobles who pressed at them from all sides. “They remember how to fight!”
Then a roar shattered the cavern.
Fryphessyrth reared, her tail whipping through the horde with bone-crushing force. The ground shook with each strike, and when her teeth closed on a cluster of undead, the sound of breaking bone split the chamber. Fire burst from her maw, incinerating whole ranks in molten light.
For a heartbeat, Ren felt hope.
But then she saw charred bodies knitting back together, bones snapping into place, silver light dragging them upright again.
Even Fryphessyrth’s fury wasn’t enough.
“There’s so many!” Ren shouted. Sweat slicked her skin as she cut another down.
Lucan’s face twisted, pale beneath the grime. “We’ll never hold them off. Not all of us.”
Ren’s blade met another corpse with a ringing crack.
“Then we fight until we can’t,” she hissed.
“We keep moving, keep breathing. Don’t you dare give in now, Lucan.
You’re a better fighter than this, stronger than this.
I’ve seen you take down twice as many with half the breath in your lungs, so fight !
Talen’s blade cleaved through a corpse beside them. “She’s right,” he barked, voice hoarse. “Hold the line. If we fall here, there’s no one left to hold! ”
For a time, it worked – their rhythm returning in staccato bursts of motion and flame. Steel flashed. Fire roared. They fought shoulder to shoulder, the world narrowing to the next strike, the next breath, the next heartbeat that refused to stop.
But the dead didn’t tire.
They didn’t falter.
They just kept coming.
Minutes blurred together, each one heavier than the last. Ren’s arms burned; her lungs clawed for air.
Talen moved with mechanical precision, a soldier fighting on instinct alone.
And Lucan’s strength began to wane. His strikes grew sloppy.
His stance wavered. For every creature they cut down, two more clawed their way from the darkness.
“I—” Lucan’s voice broke as his sword deflected another blow. “We can’t – there’s too many—”
“Don’t say it,” Ren snarled, driving her blade through the skull of a corpse. Blood spattered her face. “Don’t you dare say it.”
But Lucan’s eyes had already changed. The fight was leaving them, replaced by something hollow, something that knew this was a battle they couldn’t win. His gaze darted to the cavern mouth, the narrow archway behind them that led to the stairs.
Then to Fryphessyrth.
“Listen to me,” he hissed. “You’re both too important for this realm to die here.”
“We’re not leaving you,” Talen snapped, driving his blade through another undead. “We all go together.”
“Always the prince, giving orders.” Lucan’s eyes softened as they flicked between them – his king, his comrade, his friends . “Sometimes soldiers don’t come home. Sometimes they buy the way out for the ones who matter most.”
“Lucan, no—” Ren’s throat tore with the words. Tears trailed down her cheeks, blurring her vision as she kept swinging and swinging and swinging—
Lucan turned to Fryphessyrth, his voice breaking. “Block the exit when they’ve gone. Tail to stone. Don’t let anything follow them out.”
Fryphessyrth’s eyes gleamed with something ancient and sorrowful, but she lowered her massive head in assent .
“Lucan—” Talen’s voice cracked.
Lucan smiled then. A weary, broken one, but real . “It will be an honor to lay my life not just for my prince, but for my friends.”
Fryphessyrth roared and, with a mighty sweep of her tail, slammed it against the cavern wall. Stone shuddered, cracks splintering like lightning across the surface. Dust poured from the ceiling.
“Go!” Lucan roared.
Ren lunged forward, reaching for him, but Talen’s arm locked around her waist. He hissed in her ear, “He’s giving us time. Don’t throw it away.”
Fryphessyrth’s tail struck again, harder, rock exploding from the walls. The cavern screamed as it began to collapse, undead shrieking beneath the raining stone.
Ren fought, thrashing against Talen’s grip, her nails scraping against his arms, his leather, his armor. “Let me go!” she screamed, voice tearing from her throat. “I’m not leaving him! I won’t leave him behind, damn you !”
But Talen only tightened his hold, dragging her toward the archway as the ground buckled beneath their feet.
“Ren—” Talen’s voice was a rasp, equal parts fury and grief. “If you go back, you both die!”
“To hell we will,” Ren’s voice took on a guttural hiss, animalistic. “I’ll burn them all, Talen. They’ll all burn .”
She kicked and fought against him.
But it was too late.
Fryphessyrth’s bellow shook the cavern, shaking every bone in Ren’s body. It was rage and farewell.
A beast’s last defiance.
And then the world crumbled.
Stone crashed down, sealing Lucan, Fryphessyrth, and the dead behind a wall of ruin.
The roar of collapsing earth drowned everything until, through the chaos, Ren heard Lucan’s voice. Faint at first. Then louder.
Steady.
“For crown, for kin, for every soul that stands, I will hold the line.”
He shouted it over and over, a battle cry turned to prayer, each word forged from terror and defiance alike.
“For crown, for kin, for every soul that stands, I will hold the line .”
Again, as the world fell apart around him—
“If this is where I fall, let it be where they rise. I will hold the line .”
Until the sound broke, leaving only silence.