CHAPTER 71: THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT

"That’s not a good sign," Robert muttered, eyes narrowed as he cradled Auren in his arms. Sweat trickled down his temple, mixing with the fine ash already coating his skin. The air around them was thick with the stench of smoke and magic gone wild. "Looks like they’ve got their own chaos to deal with... probably thanks to those two oversized monsters going at it."

Then, something shifted—subtle, but enough. Auren’s lips moved.

Robert felt it immediately.

"Hey—what is it, kid?" he asked, his voice gentler now. He leaned in close, trying to catch whatever words the boy might be clinging to.

"M-more..." Auren whispered, his voice dry and fragile, like the last breath of a dying flame.

That single word was all Robert needed.

He glanced down at the empty vial still clutched in his hand—the last of their healing stock. His expression hardened, jaw clenched with quiet resolve.

"Don’t worry, kid," he said, brushing some ash off Auren’s forehead. "I’ll get you more. Just stay with me, alright? You’ve come too far to fall now. Trust this old man a little longer."

Auren didn’t speak again, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips. And that small gesture, so simple yet so full of trust, struck Robert deep.

He was proud of the boy. After all the wounds, the pain, the madness they’d survived... Auren was still here, still fighting. And if the kid wasn’t giving up, neither was he.

"I swear I’ll get those potions," Robert whispered, more to himself now than anyone else.

He knew where they were—still tucked away in their old home nestled along the western edge of the Runewood. That place used to be their quiet retreat... now, it might be the only hope left.

He looked up toward the sky.

His stomach dropped.

The same cursed sky lit by bursts of fire and black lightning. The same air quaking from the roars of the two beasts tearing the forest apart.

And the worst part?

That battlefield wasn’t far from their house.

Which meant getting there... was going to be hell.

As much as he wanted to rush Auren to safety, going near that battlefield was like marching into a hurricane with a matchstick.

"Damn it... This won’t be an easy run."

But he couldn’t leave Auren behind. The crater they were in was exposed, and stray fireballs or dark blades kept soaring through the sky like deadly birds. Leaving Auren here would be a death sentence.

No. He’d carry the boy with him. He had to.

"No choice. Let’s do this."

Robert took a deep breath, steeling himself. With focused eyes, he began to channel his mana. He rose out of the crater, weaving skillfully through the forest, always keeping to the safer path.

"Just you wait, Marissa..." he whispered under his breath. "Right now, I have to save Auren. I just need to get to the house..."

He remembered—those remaining potions, his best ones, were still at home. But getting there meant sneaking past human patrols and risking capture. He and Auren were both wanted by King Aurelus. Stepping into human territory was asking to be hanged.

But he’d take that risk. For Auren.

Back at the Aetherthorn...

Things were going from bad to worse.

The battle between Vulkris and the Nighthral had escalated—and now, it was moving dangerously close to the Aetherthorn.

Queen Elarya’s connection with Robert had been abruptly cut off by a massive, combined blast from the two beasts. The force was enough to shake the very air and shatter nearby trees.

The Nighthral was even using the Aetherthorn as a springboard—bounding off its walls for surprise attacks. And Vulkris, amused by the chaos it caused, seemed to enjoy targeting it directly.

Inside, terror spread across the faces of the elves as the Aetherthorn trembled with each impact.

"What are you doing?! Keep healing the Queen Mother!" an elder shouted, rushing to help Elarya as she stumbled to her feet.

She had been mid-chant, channeling mana through the Velzar Tree when it was suddenly destroyed by an eruption of energy. The backlash hit her hard—like a tamer severed from their Lantaw bond.

"I—I’m fine," Elarya gritted out, teeth clenched as she forced herself upright. Her body trembled, but she held her ground with sheer will.

"Just... make sure everyone else is safe..."

The Aetherthorn, deep in the center of the Runewood, was still a long way from the nearest escape route. If the elves wanted to evacuate, they needed a distraction.

They needed a decoy.

And the Queen had already chosen herself for that role.

"What if we don’t make it?" one of the goldhair elders whispered, his long twirled beard trembling with fear.

"You can choose to stay with the Queen’s group... or escape with us. No one’s forcing you," said another elder from the Velka Dar tribe.

"Mother, I’m scared," a little goldhair girl whimpered, clutching her mother’s hand.

"Don’t worry. We have the Queen on our side..." her mother said softly—half-believing her own words, praying they were true.

KROOOAAAR!GROOOAAAR!THUD!THUD!

A fresh wave of attacks slammed against the Aetherthorn’s protective barrier. The glowing shield pulsed and cracked, fractures spreading like veins through glass.

"Queen Mother," Rhiki called, stepping behind her. His voice was steady, though his gaze was grave. Behind him stood fifteen of his strongest warriors—all prepared to fight to the last breath.

"The Velka Dar clan is with you. Until the end."

"We’re ready as well," Kardel added, flanked by several dozen remaining warriors. They had already made peace with their fate.

Everyone knew survival was unlikely.

But if they could buy time—just enough for the others to flee—then it would be worth it.

"Queen Mother," Kardel said, voice heavy, "allow us to stay behind. Let us be the decoys. Rhiki’s tribe and mine... we can at least slow them down."

"He’s right," Rhiki added. "Please. You must leave with the others. We will make sure to hold the line."

"Enough."

Elarya’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

Her eyes blazed with calm fury.

"My words are final," she declared, golden spear forming in her hand. "What kind of queen would I be if I chose my life over my people?"

"There will always be someone capable to take my place. But if we fail here—if this plan collapses—then our civilization will vanish."

"That is why..."

She turned southward, away from the main escape route. Her path was clear—to act as the distraction, the bait.

With a solemn nod, she signaled the elders leading the evacuation group.

They understood—and began rallying the elves toward the northern exit.

"Let’s do our best, my children," she said gently.

Then, six silk-like wings unfurled behind her, glowing with divine mana.

She began walking toward the southern gates.

Her warriors followed—Rhiki, Kardel, and all those who had chosen to stand with her.

Behind them, the elves watched with tear-filled eyes.

"Queen Mother!"

"Please come back!"

"Rhiki, take care of her!"

One by one, they bowed their heads, fingers pointed down—the deepest sign of elven respect.

Their voices rang out like a sacred hymn.

And with that, Elarya faced the gates of hell itself.

She raised her spear skyward and shouted:

"FOR RUNEWOOD!"

And all the elves of the warriors of the three tribes behind her, from young to old, everyone echoed as one—

"FOR RUNEWOOOOOD!"