Coward

The dust kicked up by his retreating soldiers still hung heavy in the air as Lance crested the final ridge overlooking the valley. His mind, however, was already miles away, focused on the city below.

He had sent a silent, urgent command, a mental ripple that echoed through the minds of every soldier guarding the city walls, ordering them to abandon their posts and retreat to the safety of First Fort.

A thousand lives, he knew, hung in the balance. A thousand lives would have been spilt like water on the cobblestones if he hadn't acted.

He had only been gone a few hours, a mere blink in the face of impending doom. Yet, when he returned, the city he had sworn to protect lay in smoldering ruins. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and death, a grim testament to the ferocity of the Beastmen horde.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the ravaged cityscape.

And Gazelle was nowhere to be found.

A cold fury, sharp and consuming, ignited wi