Chapter 308: The Escape Begins

Darion gritted his teeth. Too many. The room was already cramped before the fighting started. Now nearly everyone was moving at once. Warriors pushed toward him from every direction, but they also got in each other’s way. That gave Darion his opportunity.

He drove forward. His golden sword swept across the front of him, forcing several warriors to retreat. Darion squeezed through the gap. One warrior grabbed for his shoulder. Darion twisted away. Another swung from the side. He ducked. The blade passed over his head. Darion slammed his elbow into the man’s stomach and kept moving.

Door. It was only a few steps away. He could see it. He charged.

Darion burst through the doorway. For a brief moment, relief hit him. Then he remembered the corridor.

The narrow passage he had walked through earlier now felt completely different. There wasn’t enough room to properly run. There wasn’t enough room for the warriors behind him to spread out either. Which meant Darion had only one option. Fight through it.

Footsteps thundered behind him.

"HE’S HEADING OUT!"

"DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!"

Darion turned just as the first warrior entered the corridor. His golden blade flashed. The warrior fell back. Another tried to push past him. Darion struck again.

The corridor became a bottleneck. Warriors behind the first few couldn’t reach Darion without forcing their way through their own comrades. Darion took advantage of it. He moved forward one step at a time. Slash. Step. Block. Step. Strike. Step.

His breathing grew heavier. His stolen armor felt heavier with every movement.

’Come on. Just get outside.’

Eventually, he saw light ahead. The entrance. Darion’s eyes widened slightly. There. He threw himself forward.

Darion burst out of the building. Cold night air hit his face. For one second, he simply breathed.

Then the settlement reacted.

Shouts erupted from nearby streets.

"What happened?!"

"There’s an intruder!"

"Sound the alarm!"

"GET THE WARRIORS!"

Guards stationed around the settlement immediately turned toward the building. Some pointed at Darion. Others began running toward him. From the walls, more movement could be seen. Torches shifted. Warriors began gathering.

Darion’s stomach tightened. Fuck. This is already spreading.

He looked toward the outer walls. The gate wasn’t impossibly far. But there were warriors everywhere. And more were coming.

’I can’t run all the way there.’

Even if he somehow managed to outrun the first group, the settlement was already mobilizing. He would never make it through the gate alone. Not against this many.

Darion’s hand tightened around his sword.

’Then I don’t escape alone.’

Darion raised his free hand.

Green light suddenly erupted around him. The first figure materialized. Ghet Ulg. The massive undead warrior appeared in a flash of green energy, his monstrous frame towering over the surrounding soldiers. Several warriors froze.

"What—?"

Before they could react, another flash appeared. Edric Vorne. Then another. And another. A dozen undead knights materialized around Darion.

Their weapons appeared with them, armor reflecting the torchlight. Then the wolves emerged. One after another, undead wolves appeared along the street, their bodies moving with unnatural precision as they immediately turned toward the surrounding warriors.

The sudden appearance of so many undead created a moment of silence. The warriors stared.

They knew. They had been told. The Baron of Percvale was a Necromancer. They had discussed fighting him. They had discussed killing him. They had planned around his undead. But knowing something was different from seeing it. Seeing an army of undead suddenly appear in the middle of their settlement was something else entirely.

One warrior took an involuntary step backward. "What the hell..."

Another gripped his weapon tighter. "Those are undead..."

Darion didn’t give them time to recover. "Move!"

The undead surged forward.

Ghet Ulg crashed into the first group of warriors. BOOM! Several were thrown backward. The undead knights followed immediately. Their formation drove into the warriors blocking the street, forcing them apart. The wolves darted between their legs, knocking some warriors off balance and creating even more confusion.

Darion ran. He didn’t stay behind his undead. He used them as the opening he needed.

’Keep going.’

A warrior spotted him. "THE BARON!"

Another shouted. "DON’T LET HIM REACH THE GATE!"

Darion’s eyes narrowed. So they know who I am now. There was no point hiding anymore. He raised his golden sword and charged. A warrior attacked. Darion parried. Another came from behind. One of the undead knights intercepted him.

Darion kept moving. The street was becoming a battlefield. Warriors poured out from nearby buildings. Some hesitated when they saw the undead. Others charged recklessly. The undead tore through their formation, not because Darion needed them to kill everyone, but because he needed them to break the defense. The path toward the outer gate slowly opened.

Darion ran through it. His heart pounded. His lungs burned. The gate was getting closer.

’Almost there.’

Darion could finally see the outer gate clearly. Guards were rushing toward it. Others were trying to form a defensive line. Behind him, the undead were still fighting. Ghet Ulg tore through another group. Edric Vorne blocked several warriors. The undead knights continued forcing their way forward. The wolves raced ahead and scattered another group.

Darion gripped his sword tighter. ’Just a little farther.’

He ran. He was halfway to the gate.

Then—

Someone stepped into the street ahead of him.

Darion immediately slowed. His eyes locked onto the figure. The man wasn’t wearing armor. He wasn’t carrying a weapon. He wasn’t wearing one of Vrethka’s masks. He was simply standing there. Still. Waiting.

Darion’s instincts screamed at him.

’Who the hell is that?’

The man’s face was completely exposed. And his eyes were filled with pure rage. Darion stopped. The man stared directly at him. Not at the undead. Not at the chaos behind him. At Darion.

And Darion realized this man wasn’t just another warrior. He was waiting specifically for him.

Darion skidded to a halt.

His boots scraped against the ground as he stopped just a short distance from the man standing in front of him. Dust kicked up around his feet.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his lungs burning from the sprint through the streets. Behind him, the sounds of battle continued — steel crashing against steel, the undead roaring, warriors shouting. The chaos was still raging, still spreading, still threatening to consume everything.

But right here, in this moment, everything felt strangely still.

The man didn’t move. He wasn’t charging. He wasn’t holding a sword. He wasn’t even wearing armor. He was simply standing there, blocking the path toward the gate. His clothes were plain, his hands empty, his posture calm. But his eyes, those eyes were anything but calm.

Darion’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. Who the hell is this? The man’s face was unfamiliar. Darion had never seen him before. But the expression in those eyes made one thing immediately obvious. The man knew him. And he hated him.

Then something clicked. Wait... wasn’t this the man standing behind the chief? Darion remembered the slender figure beside Dross, the one who had barely moved during the meeting.

The one who had watched everything with those cold, calculating eyes. This was him. He must have run like a madman to get here, to block Darion’s path before he could reach the gate.

Behind Darion, the sounds of battle intensified. Steel crashed against steel. The undead roared. Warriors shouted. There wasn’t time for some random confrontation.

Darion tightened his grip on his sword. The man finally spoke.

"You don’t know me, do you?"

Darion said nothing. He didn’t have time for this. His eyes briefly moved toward the gate. Still too many warriors between him and freedom. Then back to the man. The stranger’s expression twisted into something bitter.

"Of course you don’t."

The man took a slow breath. "My name is Caef."

Darion remained silent.

"I’m the brother of the leader of Gonnb."

Darion’s expression changed slightly beneath the mask. Gonnb. He remembered. The small village. The people who had attacked his forces. The battle. The undead. The village that had been destroyed.

Caef noticed the slight reaction. "So you remember." His voice shook. Not from fear. From anger.

"My brother." He took a step closer. "You killed him."

Darion didn’t answer. Behind him, another group of warriors could be heard approaching. He could feel the pressure building. But Caef continued.

"You probably don’t even remember his face." Caef’s hands tightened into fists. "You probably don’t remember the messenger either."

Darion’s eyes remained fixed on him.

"You attacked us in the night." Caef’s eyes burned. "You brought your undead into our village." His breathing became heavier. "They came through the darkness while everyone was sleeping."

He pointed toward Darion. "People woke up screaming."

Darion said nothing.

"Children were crying." Caef’s voice cracked. "Families were trying to run. My people tried to fight back." He laughed bitterly. "But what were they supposed to do against your undead?"

Darion’s fingers tightened around his sword.

"You didn’t fight them like men." Caef’s voice was raw. "You sent monsters."