Roxy's eyes widened as she looked down from the corridor window. Below, Cedric and the Third Prince were surrounded — the enemy closing in from every side, blades glinting under the faint torchlight.
Her heart pounded. Her hands shook as she pressed against the cold stone wall, breathing hard.
"No… I can't let them be caught… I can't let them take the Third Prince…"
Her voice trembled. Every word cracked under the weight of fear and exhaustion.
"We can't let them find out who's behind all this… I can't fail…"
Her vision blurred for a moment from blood loss, but she forced herself to stay upright.
The Captain's voice echoed in Roxy's mind, steady and unshakable, like a lighthouse cutting through a storm.
"Roxy… stay calm. Victory isn't just about overpowering your enemy. It begins the moment you can hold yourself together, even when everything seems lost. Breathe, think, and find the path forward — only then can you succeed."
Her heart pounded, blood mixing with pain from her wound, but his words wrapped around her like armor. In that instant, fear loosened its grip, and clarity returned.
She could still fight. She could still protect them. She would find a way.
"Stay focused, Roxy. Even fear can serve its purpose."
Tears stung her eyes.
"Captain… I won't fail you."
She bit her lip and looked again toward the courtyard.
The enemy soldiers moved closer — Cedric's blade gleaming faintly as he took stance before the trembling prince.
Roxy's fingers tightened around her dagger. Her body shook, but her eyes hardened. She was scared — more than she'd ever admit — but retreat wasn't an option.
"No matter what happens… I will save them."
Roxy's eyes locked on the single thin seam in the ring of soldiers — a small area where only a handful stood, a gap swallowed by shadows. I can attack there, she thought, and help them run from there. We don't have to defeat the whole hundred. If I break that line, they can slip past.
Without wasting another breath, Roxy pushed forward toward the west side of the enemy line.
Pain flared in her arm where the wound throbbed, but she ignored it.
Her thoughts were on Cedric and the Third Prince — she could not let them be caught.
Step by step, she closed the distance, moving like a blade seeking a weak point.
She struck.
From the west, she surged into the pocket of men, dagger flashing. Finesse did not matter — only the opening.
Her blade found flesh and mail again and again.
Soldiers fell, stumbled, and armor rang like dull bells.
Ten tried to stop her. Ten crumpled under her haste, pierced, pushed aside, collapsing onto the stone.
Each shove of her shoulder, each twist of her wrist, carried the promise she had made to herself a hundred times over:
"Not them. I won't let them fall. Not today."
Pain lanced through her with every thrust.
Blood slicked her fingers.
Her breath came ragged; thoughts jagged and immediate: Don't think. Move. Make the hole. Get them out.
Fear burned low behind her ribs, but beneath it was an iron certainty that steadied her hand.
She burst through the last pair of legs and fell into the courtyard at Cedric's side.
Both of them were injured. Cedric's breath heaved, a dark stain spreading across his tunic. Roxy's side seared, her vision trembling at the edges.
The Third Prince stood behind them, trembling.
Cedric's eyes shot to her, a mix of anger and shock. "what are u doing u would be caught too"
Roxy met his glare, voice raw and fierce. "we can not be caught not even one of us"
Roxy wiped the blood from her face, her voice firm despite the shaking.
"We'll move out from the west side. I've seen it — fewer soldiers there. We run from there and hide before they close in again."
Cedric gave a small tired smile.
"Alright… I'll gamble on your plan."
Behind them, the Third Prince trembled, clutching his cloak tightly, eyes wide as he looked at the fallen bodies and the torches closing in. His lips moved, but no words came — only fear.
Roxy and Cedric moved together, their bodies battered but still fighting. Roxy's arm hung weakly at her side, blood dripping from her sleeve, while Cedric dragged his wounded leg with every step, teeth clenched in pain.
They charged toward the west side, cutting through the soldiers in front of them.
Roxy's dagger flashed, each strike heavy with desperation, each swing a struggle against her own weakening body.
Cedric followed, covering her back, his sword slicing through armor and bone as they carved a narrow path through the enemy line.
"Stay with us, prince!" Roxy shouted, turning back for a moment.
The Third Prince stumbled after them, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. They're bleeding… both of them… and still fighting for me. Fear flooded his chest. If they die here, it's because of me.
His hands trembled as he clutched the small dagger Cedric had given him earlier. He wanted to help, but his body wouldn't move the way theirs did — every step felt heavier than the last.
For a moment, freedom seemed close — the gate to the west visible through the smoke and torchlight. But then a sudden horn sounded from the shadows.
From the alleys, stairways, and rooftops, soldiers appeared — wave after wave, armored and ready, surrounding them once again. More than a hundred men, their swords glinting coldly in the dark.
Roxy froze. Her heart stopped for a second as she looked around — every escape route closing in.
"No…" she whispered, voice cracking.
Cedric's hand tightened on his sword. His breathing was harsh, hopelessness creeping in. "It's a trap," he said through gritted teeth.
The Third Prince's shoulders shook.
He stared at the wall of soldiers advancing toward them and whispered, voice small and broken, "It's over…"
Roxy's eyes widened. Her chest ached as fear wrapped around her like chains.
Are we… really going to fail this mission?
She looked at Cedric, at the Prince, at the darkness around them — and for the first time, even her courage trembled.
Suddenly, before Roxy could even move, a blur dropped from above — a man covered in a dark cloth and mask, landing between them and the enemy line. His movement was sharp, almost silent, and the glint of twin blades flashed under the torchlight.
For a moment, Roxy froze — then her eyes caught a small glimpse of blond hair slipping out from under his hood. Her heart skipped. It's him… the man who helped me escape…
Without hesitation, he charged forward, his dual swords cutting through the enemy ranks like tearing through paper. Every strike was clean, every motion driven with speed and purpose. The soldiers stumbled back, confused by his sudden assault.
"What are you waiting for?!" his voice cut through the chaos — rough, commanding. "Run!"
Before Roxy or Cedric could respond, another figure appeared from the side street — Rolsten.
His massive frame and single eye glinted in the torchlight, his axe already swinging. He smashed through the nearest line of soldiers, shouting, "Go! We'll hold them off!"
The hopeless silence broke. Roxy's chest tightened, but now with something she hadn't felt in minutes — hope.
Cedric gritted his teeth and nodded.
"Roxy— let's go!"
The two of them, supporting the frightened Third Prince between them, began to run toward the city's west gate.
Behind them, the masked man and Rolsten fought side by side, steel against steel, cutting down any enemy that dared follow.
Sparks flew. Shouts echoed through the narrow streets. The sound of Rolsten's axe and the man's twin blades filled the night — a rhythm of defiance.
By the time they reached the outer wall, the air was cold again. The city lights faded behind them. There — waiting near the exit — stood four horses, their reins held by another figure covered in cloth, face hidden behind a simple mask.
She spoke quickly, voice calm but firm. "Come — sit on the horses and follow me."
Roxy turned back once, watching as the firelight behind them flickered against the silhouettes of Rolsten and the blond man still fighting in the distance. Her throat tightened — but she mounted the horse.
They rode into the night, leaving behind the sound of steel and shouts fading into darkness.
They galloped through the dark outskirts of the city, the sound of hooves echoing against the stone road. The cold night air brushed against Roxy's face, mixing with the faint scent of smoke that still lingered from the battle. Her arm throbbed with pain, but her mind was louder than the wound.
Who are these people? she thought, gripping the reins tightly.
The man with the twin blades… and Rolsten—how did they even know where we were? Her thoughts ran wild, the image of the blond hair under that hood replaying in her mind again and again.
The figure leading them rode ahead with quiet confidence — her movements calm, her pace unwavering. None of them knew where she was taking them, only that she hadn't faltered once since they'd begun to follow.
"We're almost there," she said at last, her voice steady but low, carried by the wind.
Behind her, the Third Prince shouted over the wind, his voice trembling between relief and disbelief. "We're safe now! I'm actually free!" He laughed—half from joy, half from exhaustion—then looked ahead at the cloaked figure leading them. "But… who are you guys, why not tell me now?"
Roxy glanced back at the prince, her voice steady despite the rush of wind.
"Soon you'll know," she said. "Just a little more patience."
The grassy plains stretched endlessly before them, bathed in moonlight, but for Roxy, the night felt heavier than ever.
Their journey was far from over