Lefiya's futile attack unfortunately succeeded in drawing "Aiden's" attention.
He halted his swinging blade and slowly turned his head. Those emotionless blue eyes cut through the thick mist of blood, locking flawlessly onto Lefiya.
In the next moment, Lefiya felt the surrounding air suddenly become scorching and viscous. A figure wreathed in blazing light appeared right in front of her, as if he had instantly teleported.
So fast!
Lefiya didn't even have a fraction of a second to react.
She met those freezing blue eyes.
Within them, Lefiya couldn't detect a single trace of familiarity.
There was only a foreign, absolute emptiness—a terrifyingly bone-chilling apathy that treated all living things as less than weeds.
The Aiden she remembered, the boy who always wore a gentle smile and possessed clear, bright eyes, would never look at her like this.
He really is... a fake.
The moment that thought flashed across her mind, a merciless slash, wrapped in the suffocating stench of death, chopped down directly toward her head.
"Lefiya!"
At the critical moment, an anxious shout rang in her ears.
A figure lunged from the side, using every ounce of her strength to tackle the paralyzed Lefiya to the ground.
It was Alicia.
However, the slash was simply too fast.
Although Alicia managed to push Lefiya out of the way, her own back took the full, unmitigated force of the crimson blade of light.
"Gah—!"
The sickening sound of flesh being torn apart was unmistakable.
Scalding hot blood sprayed into the air like a geyser, the warm liquid splattering all over Lefiya's cheeks.
She lay on the ground in a daze, staring up at Alicia, who was bleeding profusely as she collapsed on top of her.
Alicia's face, which always wore a warm and comforting smile, instantly turned as pale as a sheet of white paper.
"Miss... Alicia?"
Lefiya extended a trembling hand, frantically hugging Alicia's slumping body.
She tried to press her hands over the horrifying, bone-deep gash on Alicia's back in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.
But the sheer power behind the slash was too overwhelming.
The wound stretched diagonally from her left shoulder all the way down to her right hip, coming dangerously close to cleaving her entirely in two.
The blood refused to stop, flowing endlessly like a breached dam.
If Riveria hadn't cast the first tier of Via Shilheim—the thin veil of defensive mana—to offset the majority of the blow at the last possible second, that single strike would have cleanly bisected the physically fragile elven mage on the spot.
"Aiden" cast a cold, apathetic glance at Lefiya, who was weeping uncontrollably while holding her dying comrade in the pool of blood. Slowly, he raised his flaming longsword once again.
He was going to exterminate them all.
"I won't let you hurt my familia any longer."
Accompanying that freezing voice was a blast of biting, bone-chilling frost. The sudden freeze forced "Aiden" to instinctively step back just as he was about to swing his sword.
An emerald figure placed herself firmly between Lefiya, Alicia, and the approaching executioner.
It was Riveria.
Her staff, Magna Alf, clashed heavily against "Aiden's" fiery blade, producing a deafening ring of colliding metal.
With her back turned to the weeping Lefiya, Riveria spoke in a tone that brokered no argument.
"Lefiya, take Alicia and the others. Run. Get back to the surface and find Loki. Tell her to send reinforcements to save us."
Lefiya froze upon hearing Riveria's words.
She couldn't believe it. The mighty, unwavering Riveria she idolized was actually ordering a retreat.
"Lefiya!"
Riveria struggled to fend off the torrential storm of "Aiden's" slashes with the shaft of her staff. Every single impact sent violent tremors down her arms, sending numb, agonizing shocks through her hands.
Although she could temporarily hold her ground in close-quarters combat by relying on the immense physical stats of a Level 6 adventurer, she was still fundamentally a rear-guard mage.
With her magic completely countered, there was no way she could hold out for long.
She shouted again.
"How fast you bring back reinforcements is the sole factor deciding whether or not we survive this!"
"Raul!"
At the exact same time, Finn, locked in a desperate deathmatch with Childe, let out a thunderous roar that echoed across the entire floor.
Hearing that shout—which sounded as though it required every last ounce of his captain's strength—the second-string captain of the Loki Familia forced his battered, nearly broken body up from the ground.
He cast a pained glance at his comrades lying in pools of their own blood, then looked toward the vanguard squad that was being completely suppressed by Childe. A flash of agony crossed his eyes, but ultimately, he gritted his teeth and roared:
"Everyone, grab the wounded! We're falling back!"
With that, discarding any further hesitation, he scooped up the heavily bleeding, unconscious form of Anakitty from the ground. Turning around, he sprinted toward the path leading to the upper floors with everything he had.
Tears streamed down Lefiya's face. She knew that staying behind would only make her a burden.
Biting her lip so hard she tasted copper, she used all her strength to lift Alicia, whose breath was growing incredibly faint. Without looking back, she followed Raul, beginning the desperate retreat.
The other surviving Loki Familia members hesitated for a brief, agonizing moment after hearing the order. But in the end, they obeyed.
Supporting one another, they carried, dragged, and hoisted the bodies of their fallen comrades who still clung to a sliver of life, distancing themselves from the battlefield as fast as their legs could carry them.
"You slaughtered my family... Pay for it with your life."
Riveria's voice was like ice.
The Magna Alf in her hands—a legendary weapon hailed as one of the Five Supreme Staves—had transformed into an indestructible quarterstaff.
Every time the staff collided with the blazing crimson sword, deafening metallic screeches and brilliant sparks erupted into the air.
Struggling to deflect yet another heavy slash, Riveria used the recoil to slide several meters backward, carving out a tiny sliver of breathing room.
Her emerald eyes locked onto the killing machine wearing a familiar face.
He's not like that Childe.
During their brief, intense exchange, Riveria acutely deduced the fundamental difference between the "Aiden" in front of her and the Childe fighting in the distance.
That man who called himself a "Fatui Harbinger" might claim to be nothing more than a puppet, but his ego and self-awareness were staggeringly vibrant.
His fighting style was filled to the brim with passion and fervor. He would banter with his opponents, expressing joy or rage depending on the flow of battle. Much of what he did was driven by his own pure, unadulterated thirst for combat.
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