Ren moved like a shadow, weaving between clashing warriors and collapsing bodies. The dying captain stood atop a mound of corpses, his tattered armor barely holding together. Blood dripped from his mouth, but his eyes were sharp.

  "Fall back! Hold the line, damn you!" the captain roared, swinging his sword in a desperate arc. The blade barely fended off an abyssal warrior, its darkened form moving with unnatural precision.

  Ren didn’t hesitate.

  He lunged forward, stabbing his stolen sword straight through the abyssal soldier’s exposed neck. The creature let out a strangled shriek before collapsing. The captain turned, eyes flickering with surprise.

  "You fight well, soldier, but it’s over." The captain’s voice was hoarse. "We've lost. The enemy broke through our left flank—it's only a matter of time before we’re surrounded."

  Lost already? Bullshit.

  Ren glanced at the battlefield, his mind racing. The abyssal forces weren’t just stronger—they were organized, methodical. Every movement was part of a strategy, a calculated push to break the human army's cohesion.

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  Who was leading them?

  If Ren had learned anything from living in the slums, it was that the quickest way to survive was to know who was pulling the strings.

  He grabbed the captain by the shoulder. "Tell me who commands our side. If we’re losing, it means someone made a mistake—and mistakes can be corrected."

  The captain’s eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you to question command?"

  "The only one here who isn’t about to die, apparently," Ren shot back, voice dry. "Look, if we keep fighting like this, we’ll be corpses in an hour. But if we find the right weak point in their army, we flip the entire battle."

  The captain hesitated. He was a warrior, not a tactician. He had fought for survival, not for strategy.

  Ren saw the doubt. He needed control—now.

  "You’re already dying, aren’t you?" Ren said, voice dropping lower. "So give me command. Let me try."

  The captain exhaled sharply. His fingers twitched on his sword hilt. Then, after a tense moment, he threw his insignia badge at Ren.

  "Fine. Command is yours. Lead us to victory or die trying."

  Ren caught it, lips curling into a small smirk.

  Step one—authority. Done.

  Now all he had to do was win an impossible war.