The day dawned grey.
The fog had disappeared, but the sky remained low, heavy with clouds that did not rain. The battlefield lay before us, covered with bodies. Some were corrupted. Others were students. Ours.
Irina gathered those who could still fight. There were fewer of us than the day before. Many were wounded. Others were simply exhausted. Ana could barely stand, the mark of Anorys glowing faintly, like a dying candle.
"They will return," Irina said. "Trussum does not give up."
"Neither do we," Zirinos replied.
My sword weighed on my arms. The iron was clean – I had spent the night scrubbing it, removing the dried blood. But the memory of the blood, that did not come off.
"Ethan."
It was Sara. She stood beside me, her face pale, her eyes red. She had been crying.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"No." She tightened her hand on her sword. "But I will pretend I am."
"That's what we all do."
She almost smiled.
---
The corrupted returned in the middle of the morning.
This time, they did not come in waves. They came in silence, orderly, like a proper army. At their head, a tall man in dark armour, his face covered by an iron mask. Behind the mask, his eyes glowed yellow.
"Daniel," someone behind me whispered. "It's Daniel Daniarólis."
The student who had humiliated me in the duel. Now, a corrupted one.
Zirinos stepped forward.
"Leave him to me."
"Zirinos…" I began.
"I'll handle it."
He did not wait for an answer. He advanced onto the battlefield, sword in hand, his gold‑and‑blood hair shining even without sun. Daniel advanced too.
They met in the centre.
Swords clashed. The sound echoed off the walls. The wounded students, lying on stretchers, raised their heads to watch. Those standing, motionless, simply stared.
Zirinos was faster. Daniel was stronger. Daniel's blows shattered the stone floor. Zirinos's cuts sliced the air like razors.
"Kill him!" someone shouted.
"No," another replied. "Save him."
There was no salvation possible.
---
The fight lasted minutes. Or hours. I don't know.
Zirinos disarmed Daniel. The corrupted's sword flew, spun in the air, fell to the ground with a dry thud. Daniel knelt, his hands empty.
"End it," he said, his voice strange, thick, as if it were not his own.
Zirinos hesitated.
I saw it. I saw the hesitation in his eyes. The same one I had seen in the dungeon, before the cyclops.
"I can't," Zirinos said quietly.
"You can." Daniel raised his head. His yellow eyes glowed. "I killed three students. Three. They trusted me. I killed them."
"It wasn't you. It was Trussum."
"It was me." Daniel touched his chest. "I opened the door. I let him in."
Zirinos raised his sword.
Daniel closed his eyes.
The strike was quick, clean.
Daniel's body fell sideways, his head a few steps from his torso.
Zirinos stood still, staring at the blood.
The corrupted, leaderless, retreated.
---
The field fell silent.
The students looked at Zirinos as if they were seeing a ghost. Some with admiration. Others with fear. Most with both.
"Come," I said, pulling his arm. "Don't stay here."
"Leave me."
"No."
He looked at me. His eyes were empty, dark.
"You don't know me, Ethan."
"I know enough."
"You don't know anything."
I pulled him hard. He let himself be dragged.
---
Inside the walls, the confusion was greater.
The wounded groaned. The dead were covered with white sheets. A child – a young boy with dark hair, no older than ten – cried alone in a corner, clutching a wooden leg.
I approached him.
"Where are your parents?" I asked.
He did not answer. He just cried.
I looked around. The adults were busy. The teachers, counting the dead. The older students, distributing water and food.
"Stay with me," I said. "I won't leave you."
The boy looked at me. His dark, wet eyes tried to understand if I was telling the truth.
"Do you swear?" he asked.
"I swear."
He clung to my leg. I did not push him away.
---
Zirinos sat on a stone bench, his hands on his knees, staring at nothing.
I sat beside him. The boy, still standing, kept clutching my leg.
"That kid," Zirinos said without looking at me. "He likes you."
"He does."
"Why?"
"Because he has no one else."
Zirinos fell silent.
"It was a good strike," I said.
"What?"
"The strike that killed Daniel. It was clean. Quick. He didn't suffer."
"It doesn't matter if he suffered or not. He's dead."
"You killed him to save him. It's different."
He looked at me. His eyes, now, were not empty. They were tired.
"You're naive, Ethan."
"I know."
"You'll die because of it."
"Maybe." I looked at the boy. "But not today."
The boy squeezed my leg tighter.
The sun outside was beginning to hide behind the clouds.