Spirit Game

"You have to live," Thorgar growled through gritted teeth, a grin still spread across his face despite the agony. "Tell the tribe . . . what we fought. Warn them.

You still have a purpose. Thraigar."

Balaur's expression was unchanging as he yanked his claws free from Thorgar's body. The force sent the mighty warrior crashing to the ground in a heap, the light in his eyes fading.

He had given his life without hesitation to save his brother.

'Looks like I will join sooner than expected, Valera . . .'

Thraigar's world collapsed in that instant. His heart pounded in his chest, rage and grief surging through him as he clutched Thorgar's still-warm body. He could feel his friend's life slipping away, and the reality of what had just happened struck him like a blow to the gut.

Tears welled in his eyes, but there was no time to grieve. Balaur stood before him, unmoved by the sacrifice.

"Thorgar, no . . . ," Thraigar choked, his hands trembling as he cradled his brother's head. But Thorgar was already gone.

"N-no . . . it can't be." Rain's breath hitched, his pulse hammering in his chest. His face drained of all color as his gaze locked onto Thorgar's lifeless form sprawled before him.

The weight of his doom settled over him like a storm, freezing him in place. The vision of death, not just Thorgar's but their own, clung to him like a shadow, rooting him to the ground as fear gnawed at his resolve. Find your next read on empire

Balaur's massive frame shifted, and with a low growl, he turned his attention back to the others. His bloodlust was unquenchable, and there was no sign of mercy in his eyes.

Thraigar was overcome with fury, and he pushed himself to his feet, swaying from blood loss. His grip tightened on his axe, and for a moment, he contemplated charging Balaur again, fueled by vengeance.

But he knew, deep down, it would be suicide. He wasn't strong enough. None of them were.

Rain watched from a distance, and clenched his fists. His mind raced, but there were no easy answers, no tricks left to play. Every strategy had crumbled before Balaur's might.

Helliana and Santi were too injured to fight. Golly was out of commission. Chick and Chill lay broken on the ground. Ri was still recovering. And now, Thorgar had fallen.

Rain's gaze flicked to Balaur, who remained unscathed. The god of war was a force they couldn't match. Even combined, they were no more than an annoyance to him, and he knew it.

"We can't let this end here," Rain muttered to himself, his hand tightening around his sword. He had to think of something — anything.

Otherwise, none of them would survive.

Thraigar had snapped. His eyes blazed with unbridled fury, and he roared with the force of a beast driven to the edge. His body was drenched in blood — his own and that of his fallen brother — and his muscles bulged with the effort of pushing beyond his limits.

But no matter how hard he swung, how fiercely he attacked, Balaur remained unfazed. Each strike Thraigar landed, even with all his strength and rage, barely left a dent on the god's armor-like scales.

"Thraigar! Watch out!" Rain shouted.

With a brutal backhand, Balaur sent Thraigar sprawling across the battlefield, crashing into a boulder with a sickening crack. He collapsed to the ground, his breath ragged, his vision dimming.

Even in his [Berserk] state, Thraigar was no match for the dragon god. He tried to rise again, but his body betrayed him. Blood streamed from his wounds, his energy drained to nothing.

On the other side of the field, Rain was equally exhausted, his body screaming in agony with every breath. He had done nothing but fight since he got here.

His time was running out. His fusion with Chi had granted him strength, but that power was fleeting, and now it was gone.

Chi, having unfused, lay unconscious, her small form motionless on the cold ground. Rain could barely stand, every muscle in his body protesting as he struggled to stay upright.

Panting heavily, his vision swimming with exhaustion, Rain's gaze locked onto the small, brave figure of #4. The little chick, who had been so fearless in the face of overwhelming odds, was trying to shield him.

Despite the fear and the knowledge that he stood no chance, #4 threw himself at Balaur once again, his tiny body a blur of motion – it was all in vain.

With a flick of his wrist, Balaur swatted #4 away like an insect. The little hero was sent flying, his body spinning through the air before crashing into the dirt with a thud. He didn't move.

"#4!"

Rain's heart twisted in his chest. Was this it? Was this the end?

His legs wobbled beneath him, barely holding him up. His sword felt impossibly heavy in his hand, his grip slipping. His vision blurred, the world fading into a haze of pain and fatigue. The sounds of battle had quieted, and all he could hear was his own labored breathing.

One by one, his comrades had fallen. Thraigar, Helliana, Santi, Golly, Chick, Chill, Ri — all of them were down. Chi was unconscious, and #4 was motionless in the dirt.

And now, it was just him. Alone, standing against a god.

Was this really the end?

Balaur stood before him, towering over him like a mountain, his eyes glowing with a predatory gleam. The god's deep, rumbling voice echoed across the battlefield, dripping with disdain.

"Pitiful mortals," Balaur sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "You're all so weak." He stepped forward, his massive claws scraping against the ground as he loomed closer. "Die by the hands of a god!"

Rain's mind raced, but there were no plans left, no strategies to fall back on. His body screamed for rest, but he couldn't give up.

Not yet.

He gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around his sword's hilt. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to keep his vision focused.

Is this really how it ends?