The battlefield remained in an uneasy stillness, as though the world itself had yet to recover from what had happened. Dust covered the land in a thick gray veil, stretching across all of Dunkers Village. The explosion had reached farther than anyone thought possible.
Silence hung heavily over the ruins, broken only by rough and uneven breaths.
Slowly, the dust began to fade.
What appeared beneath it no longer looked like a forest. The earth had been stripped bare, every tree erased as though the blast had burned away their very existence. Yet within the thinning smoke, something still shimmered faintly.
Leonidas knelt at the center of the destruction.
His body trembled under the weight of the Grace of Protection, the strain visible in every movement. Blood ran from his nose in thin crimson lines across skin stained with ash and soot, while one hand pressed tightly against his chest as though he were trying to keep his heart from falling apart.
Breathing had become difficult. Every heartbeat felt like a scream trapped inside his body.
He had invoked another Grace.
It was not among the most costly ones, but forcing it to shield an entire village from an explosion of that scale had pushed the burden far beyond what it was meant to endure. Even so, the Grace continued to pulse around him in quiet light, spreading outward like a faint flame in the darkness.
The village remained untouched.
Roofs still stood where they should have collapsed. Walls endured. His comrades remained unharmed inside that glowing veil while the world around them smoldered into ruin.
Leonidas had controlled the Grace with experienced precision. Instead of wasting its power across the whole battlefield, he narrowed its protection only to what truly mattered — the village, the people, the few fragile things still worth saving.
Nothing more.
Nearby, Jurgen slowly lifted his head and looked across the scorched wasteland. His swollen eyes forced him to tilt his head slightly back just to see clearly. The explosion had dragged him back to reality, pulling him from whatever distant place his mind had wandered into.
But even when the blast had rushed toward them earlier, he had only stared at it quietly.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Only a strange emptiness, as though some part of him had grown too tired to care whether the world burned or survived.
Feeling the golden light encompassing them, Bubbles and Nyugen quickly stood up and ran toward where the battle had taken place in search of Leonidas.
They eventually stumbled upon his staggering form as he was still trying to move forward. They rushed in immediately to aid their savior, each taking position at his side.
He was bleeding heavily as they assisted him back toward the outskirts, and honestly, how he even survived that much is also something one would call a miracle, considering what he had endured.
"You fat ass. Stop shaking!" Nyugen frowned at Bubbles.
Bubbles, this time, quickly defended himself.
"I'm not!"
But his shaky form, and his peed uniform, said otherwise.
Leonidas slowly gave way to his weight as it pulled him down. The two quickly tightened their grip and held him upright, then carefully lowered him to the ground.
Leonidas then stared at Jurgen.
Jurgen stared back, but without any expression at all. He looked at Leonidas briefly, then simply shifted his gaze back to the scorched earth, as if that was the only thing worth looking at now.
Defense Corps members rushed in at the first break of dawn.
The sunlight slowly basked the entire area in its warm glow.
Leonidas tilted his head back slightly, just to enjoy it more. Fighting through that cold night had made him forget what the sun even felt like, if he was being honest, he hated every moment of that fight.
Arrow finally exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
He released the hilt of his sword and sat back, finally letting relief settle in.
The Defense Corps then made their way toward the heavily injured emperor, who could no longer move, only remaining where he knelt.
The healers worked their simple miracle on him, trying to restore some of his energy, and just enough strength to help him move again at least.
More healers rushed toward the others, moving quickly but with trained control, careful not to aggravate the already widespread injuries. The healer assigned to Jurgen paused before touching him, hesitation clear in the slight delay of his hands. His face was badly broken, swollen and bloodied beyond easy recognition. For a brief moment, the healer simply looked at him in silence.
"Good grief… what a terrible mess you are… ya little emperor,"
Not far off, a towering figure spoke as he walked toward Leonidas without urgency. His face remained hidden beneath the shadow cast by the sun behind him.
He wore layered, heavy clothing, each piece worn as if without concern for order, and a long cape hung down to his calves, edges torn and uneven.
A cigar rested between his lips. Smoke rose steadily as the ember glowed and dimmed with each draw. A faint smile stayed fixed on his face.
"It's Lord Leonidas," Leonidas said, his voice weakened but steady.
"I'd be dead if I hadta keep callin' ya that," he replied, taking another slow drag.
"Ya really lettin' that title go to your head."
Leonidas exhaled softly, almost a laugh, but it faded before it could fully form. He lowered his head slightly instead.
"You sure took your sweet time getting here, huh… Hommy."
The tone carried humor, but it was thin under the strain of exhaustion.
With Bubbles and Nyugen supporting him, he shifted from kneeling to sitting. One leg folded under him, the other raised slightly, his arm resting on it for support. Each movement was careful, restrained.
Bubbles and Nyugen stepped away after a moment, moving toward Jurgen and the other wounded as the remaining healers spread out across the field.
Hommy exhaled smoke and looked over the scene.
"Noticed ya Grace from a distance… and that explosion earlier," he said.
The words were calm. Not quite a question, but an opening left hanging for an answer.