Jax Darquebane stood alone beneath a sky split between sunlight and shadow.
Above him, the Queen hovered in her true form, a skeletal horror wrapped in silver-white hair and black-green magic. Her screams had already killed thousands. Her rage had consumed friend and foe alike.
And Jax had been the only thing standing between her and total slaughter.
Peacemaker spun in his hands like a giant rotor blade, each revolution carving a circular wall of force that split the Queen's death magic before it could reach the soldiers sheltering behind him.
Every few seconds, when the Queen paused to gather more power, Jax would plant his feet, level Requiem, and fire.
Twin bursts of magical energy hammered into her defenses.
But her barrier held.
The Queen hissed.
Jax exhaled.
Neither side was gaining ground.
For the first time since stepping onto the battlefield, Jax was locked in a stalemate.
And if the duel continued like this, he knew exactly what would happen.
Eventually, one of them would tire.
He intended for it to be her.
But as long as Imperial soldiers remained behind him, he could not unleash his full strength.
He was forced to divide his attention.
Defend.
Counterattack.
Defend again.
And while Jax was many things—
A patient defender was not his favorite role.
His preferred method of defense was simple.
Kill the enemy before they attacked.
"Sir!"
Jax spared a glance over his shoulder.
A broad-shouldered officer stepped closer, shielding his eyes from the magical crossfire.
The man's armor was scorched.
Blood streaked one side of his face.
Yet his posture remained rigid.
"Sergeant Mathis Rhymekey," he shouted over the chaos. "How can we help?"
Behind him stood roughly forty Imperial soldiers huddled within Jax's protective radius.
Some were wounded.
Some shaken.
All of them alive only because Jax had chosen to protect them.
Mathis looked around at the faces behind him.
Friends.
Coworkers.
People whose children played together.
People whose families shared meals and holidays.
Then he looked beyond the circle of protection.
At the piles of ash.
At the blackened skeletons.
At the remains of comrades who had not been fortunate enough to stand behind Jax.
The surviving soldiers gave him silent nods.
They were ready to help however they could.
Jax blocked another wave of magic, the impact vibrating up both arms.
"Get your troops off the battlefield!" he shouted.
Mathis blinked.
"That's it?"
"Yes!"
Jax fired both pistols into the Queen's barrier.
The shield flashed but did not break.
"I need you gone. All of you."
Mathis frowned.
"We can fight."
Jax glanced back, his expression fierce.
"Right now, you are the reason I can't."
The words hit like a hammer.
Mathis understood instantly.
As long as they stood behind Jax, he had to protect them.
If they withdrew, he could stop holding back.
He straightened.
"Yes, sir."
Sergeant Rhymekey turned and began barking orders.
"Fall back!"
Some officers obeyed immediately.
Others protested.
"We need confirmation from high command!"
Mathis pointed to the mangled remains of the Empire's leadership.
Chunks of flesh lay scattered where the Queen's own magic had struck.
Then he pointed upward.
At the skeletal creature still screaming death from the sky.
"You still taking orders from that?"
Silence.
Mathis's voice dropped.
"Whose command do you trust now?"
The question spread through the ranks.
One officer removed his helmet.
Another lowered his sword.
A third looked toward the Queen and visibly shuddered.
Within minutes, the decision was made.
The Empire's soldiers began withdrawing.
Not in perfect order.
Not with disciplined precision.
But they moved.
Companies turned.
Supply wagons rolled.
Mages packed up their equipment.
Archers slung bows over their shoulders.
Like a tide reversing, nearly one hundred eighty thousand troops started retreating from Solmere.
The effect rippled across the battlefield.
On the United Kingdoms' side, cheers erupted.
Farmers.
Merchants.
Militia members who had come only to defend their homes.
They saw the enemy withdrawing and dared to believe they had already won.
At the front lines, the reaction was more immediate.
Without support from Imperial mages and archers, the remaining Chaos-aligned generals were suddenly exposed.
Their formations buckled.
Their troops were isolated.
And one by one, they began to die.
One Imperial lieutenant general looked behind him and saw his support forces retreating.
For a moment, he could not comprehend what he was seeing.
Then his face twisted with fury.
"Cowards!" he roared.
He raised his blade and pointed after the retreating army.
"When we win this war, I will see every one of you hanged! Your families sold to the Slave Guild! Your property seized!"
His voice dripped with rage.
"That is a promise!"
He turned back toward the battlefield—
And found himself standing in shadow.
The general looked up.
The last thing he saw was Bunny.
High above him.
Her massive hammer descending like divine judgment.
The impact was instantaneous.
His body folded like paper.
Bone shattered.
Armor imploded.
Arms tore free.
When Bunny lifted her hammer, little remained but a smear across the earth.
She grinned.
"Yeah," she said, bouncing toward her next victim, "I don't think you're keeping that promise, you swine."
Back near the center of the battlefield, Jax felt the pressure easing.
The soldiers behind him were gone.
The Imperial army was retreating.
For the first time since the Queen began her assault, there were no innocents directly in the line of fire.
Jax rolled his shoulders.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Now he could stop playing defense.
The Queen noticed it too.
She paused.
Her burning eyes scanned the battlefield.
The King was dead.
The royal guards were dead.
The curse mistress was dead.
The Mage General was dead.
The Spy Master General was gone—whether dead, crippled, or buried beneath her own attack, she no longer knew.
Every lieutenant general she trusted had fallen.
And the army she intended to use as a shield was abandoning her.
For the first time in centuries, she was truly alone.
The realization struck harder than any attack.
She had manipulated kings.
Ruined nations.
Sacrificed thousands.
Served Chaos faithfully.
And now, at the moment she needed aid most—
There was no one left.
Her body trembled.
Her magical reserves were dangerously low.
Her breathing became ragged.
Still, she refused to surrender.
The Queen closed her eyes and prayed.
"Please… my God."
Her voice shook.
"Grant me strength. Grant me escape. I can still serve you. I can still spread your will."
She waited.
For a whisper.
A sign.
A surge of power.
Anything.
Nothing answered.
No voice.
No warmth.
No divine presence.
Only silence.
Cold.
Absolute.
The Queen opened her eyes.
For the first time in centuries, she understood a terrifying truth.
The Chaos God did not love her.
Did not value her.
Did not even care whether she lived or died.
She had been a tool.
And now that tool was broken.
Below her, Jax tightened his grip on Peacemaker.
The battle around them faded into the background.
The armies had withdrawn.
The distractions were gone.
The shields had fallen.
Now there were only two figures left at the center of history.
Jax Darquebane.
And the woman who had poisoned an entire continent.
The Queen's skeletal hands trembled.
Jax took a single step forward.
Then another.
The ground cracked beneath his boots.
His blue eyes never left hers.
And for the first time since she had first tasted immortality—
The Queen felt fear.