Bootsteps echoed softly along the narrow stone corridors as the group advanced in silence.

  Gone were the grand halls and high ceilings. These passageways were narrow, barely wide enough for two people side by side, with low arches, cold walls, and flickering torchlight. Dust hung in the air, and the scent of old wood and stone replaced the iron tang of blood.

  They were in the servants' halls now—back passages that twisted behind the main structure of the castle like forgotten veins. The stone was uneven underfoot, and the ceilings hung low, forcing even Kana to duck slightly at times.

  The soldier at the lead—the general, as Takahiro now thought of him—moved with urgency, but without panic. His steps were fast, calculated, his blade still drawn, its edge dull with dried demon blood.

  Behind him, the princess kept close, hands clutched tightly to the folds of her skirt to keep it from catching on the rough edges of the walls. Her expression was calm, almost serene—too calm, in fact.

  Kana walked behind her, eyes scanning every corner with tension in her shoulders. And Takahiro brought up the rear, trying not to trip on the uneven floor, his breath still uneven from earlier.

  “We were caught unprepared,” the general muttered without turning his head. His voice was low, but sharp. “There’s no mistaking it now. The entire capital is under siege.”

  The princess inhaled sharply. Her steps slowed slightly, just for a moment. Then she caught herself and forced them back into rhythm.

  “So that’s why…” she said. “That’s why there were so few guards in the lower halls.”

  He nodded. “Almost every unit was sent to protect the gates and outer ring. We didn’t expect a direct breach. We never imagined they’d risk this much for a single strike.”

  She tightened her grip on her skirt.

  “The people…” she murmured, her voice softer. “Are they being evacuated?”

  The general didn’t answer immediately.

  Then, with a sigh: “Some are. The outer wards are in flames. The north quarter is already lost. I imagine the couriers did what they could… but the city’s falling too fast. We underestimated them. Again.”

  She bit her lip, her composure faltering for the first time. Then she nodded, slowly. “Even so… trying to protect the citizens was the right thing.”

  Behind them, Kana narrowed her eyes.

  Tried? That doesn’t sound like things are going well at all.

  The general continued without slowing his pace. “There’s no time for a full escape through the main roads. We need to find horses and ride to the Queen’s summer estate. It’s the only stronghold still untouched. If we delay, we may lose even that.”

  Takahiro furrowed his brow, keeping quiet but absorbing every word. He couldn’t understand everything, not yet—but the tone was clear enough. Things were very, very bad.

  “And if the demons reached the capital in such numbers,” the general added grimly, “the hero will have little time to prepare. The ritual was supposed to buy us weeks. Maybe months. We’ve lost that.”

  “Enough,” the princess snapped suddenly, more sharply than anyone expected.

  The general glanced back, slightly surprised.

  “That discussion can wait,” she said, gathering herself. Her voice regained its composure, but there was steel behind it now. “Our mission is to escort him to safety. That is what matters right now.”

  She turned her eyes briefly to Takahiro, then continued, “And if the demons attacked on the exact day of the summoning… then someone betrayed us.”

  The general didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

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  Kana, still walking just behind the princess, cast a glance to Takahiro. She didn’t speak—she didn’t need to. Her expression said it all.

  We’re in deeper than we thought.

  Finally, they reached a small wooden door at the end of a descending staircase. It was narrow, unimpressive—almost like a storage entrance—and barred from the inside with an iron rod.

  The general pushed the bar aside and turned back to the two students.

  “This leads to the outer courtyard,” he said. “Once we’re through, we’ll be in open ground. Stay behind me. Don’t separate.”

  Takahiro felt his heart skip.

  Open ground meant exposure. No walls. No cover. If the demons were still nearby—

  Kana folded her arms. “If something jumps us, I’m not letting you do all the work.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” the general replied dryly, and turned back toward the door.

  Takahiro clenched his fists, steeling himself. The sound of battle had grown distant, but not gone. The next few minutes could be the most dangerous yet.

  He wasn’t ready.

  But he stepped forward anyway.

  The door creaked open.

  And in that instant, the silence shattered.

  A howl of sound slammed into Takahiro’s senses—screams, roars, steel against steel, crackling fire, and above it all, voices yelling orders or prayers or death.

  The courtyard was chaos.

  What should’ve been a garden or training ground was now a battlefield. Dozens of soldiers in silver-trimmed armor fought side by side with robed mages, their chants barely audible over the din. Arrows flew through the air. Demons—some with wings, others running on twisted limbs—clashed against the defenders with wild fury.

  The sky was dark, not with night, but with thick, black smoke. The sun was still there… somewhere.

  “RUN!” the general shouted, his voice cutting through the madness like a blade. “STAY BEHIND ME!”

  Takahiro didn’t question it. He just ran.

  His feet hit the stone with uneven rhythm as they bolted into the open. The general didn’t slow down, shouting commands mid-sprint:

  “Protect the princess!”

  “Form a line at the fountain!”

  “Cover the rear flank!”

  “Open a path toward the eastern gate!”

  Soldiers responded, though many looked barely able to hold formation. Blood streaked their armor, their shields were dented, and spells burst from trembling hands.

  Kana kept close, scanning their surroundings with quick, sharp glances. Her hand twitched like it longed to hold a weapon.

  They reached the edge of a collapsed wall where the stables should’ve been.

  The general stopped for a split second—just long enough to take in the sight.

  It was devastated.

  The wooden structure was in flames. Horse carcasses—some crushed, others eviscerated—lay among the rubble. The acrid stench of burnt fur and rot hit Takahiro like a slap.

  The general turned, expression grim.

  “The stables are gone. We head for the east quarter—there may still be mounts near the merchant road.”

  He didn’t wait for a response.

  “But the smoke…” the princess murmured, eyes on the thick black column rising above the city.

  “I see it.” The general didn’t stop running. “That means we’ll have to fight our way through. Stay close. We don't have time to circle.”

  A winged demon swooped low, shrieking. The general swung his sword in a wide arc, cutting through its wing mid-flight. It crashed into the ground, and a soldier nearby drove a spear through its skull.

  More enemies charged in from the side—beasts with twisted horns and molten eyes. The general barked orders again, voice hoarse:

  “Shield wall on the left! Mages, suppressing fire! Don’t let them flank us!”

  He stopped briefly to cut down another demon trying to lunge toward the princess. She stepped back, then extended both hands, chanting quickly under her breath.

  A burst of glowing wind shot from her fingers, slamming into two enemies trying to overwhelm a trio of struggling soldiers. The soldiers rallied, one shouting a wordless cry of thanks before charging forward.

  Kana scanned the field—and then she moved.

  A demon, smaller than the others but fast, had cornered a young soldier near the edge of a collapsed wall. The soldier’s blade had broken, and he raised his arm uselessly to shield himself.

  “HEY!” Kana sprinted.

  “Kana—!” Takahiro’s voice was lost in the noise.

  She threw herself at the creature, slamming into its side with a shoulder strike hard enough to knock it off balance. It turned with a snarl—taller than her, claws dripping with blood—but for a second, its attention was off the soldier.

  That second was enough.

  The young man stabbed his dagger deep into the demon’s flank, then again, and again until the thing collapsed.

  Breathing hard, Kana stumbled back. Her sleeves were torn, her palms scraped from the fall.

  Takahiro reached her in a few strides and grabbed her wrist.

  “Don’t do that again!” he shouted, eyes wide. “You don’t even have a weapon!”

  “Yeah, and?” she snapped back, panting. “You want me to just watch someone die?”

  He held her gaze, jaw tight. “No. But you can’t help anyone if you die first.”

  Kana blinked. Then, slowly, she exhaled and nodded.

  “…Fair enough.”

  They moved again.

  The eastern gate loomed ahead—tall, iron-wrought, and barely holding. The sounds of crashing beyond it hinted at battering rams or worse. Guards were trying to hold position while the wounded civilians behind them cried, screamed, or prayed.

  “Please! Don’t leave us!”

  “Help—my son, my son’s still in there!”

  “Let us out! Open the gate!”

  The sheer weight of voices was overwhelming. Takahiro felt them press into him like the smoke—thick, choking, inescapable.

  He looked around. Kana beside him. The princess ahead. Soldiers dying. Fires raging.

  And still no end in sight.

  He had no idea how much farther they had to go.

  Or if there was even a place left to run to.