The Captain dropped to his knees the second the statue crumbled, his claymore slipping from his fingers and hitting the tiles with a clang.

His arms hung at his sides like dead weight, his chest heaving while his vision swam at the edges, and the mana that had been flowing through him moments ago felt like nothing more than a faint hum buried under exhaustion.

He looked down at his hands, at the blood crusted between his fingers and the trembling that would not stop, and realized he had nothing left.

’How long has it been,’ he thought, his breath coming in shallow gasps, ’since I ran out of mana in a fight?’

The answer sat heavy in his chest, ten years, ten years of holding back, of suppressing his real level, of fighting at half capacity because pushing harder meant remembering what happened the last time he gave it everything.

He raised his head, his eyes scanning the ruins until they found Helen, who was still fighting.

She moved like water, her rapier cutting arcs through the air as she dodged and deflected the first statue’s relentless assault, but he could see the way her steps were getting slower, the way her arm trembled every time she blocked a strike instead of deflecting it.

’She must be running dry too,’ he thought, his eyes dropping to the six shards spinning around her wrist, they were flickering now, going dark for split seconds before flaring back to life, ’she pushed to six yesterday and never fully recovered, if this keeps going she will collapse.’

He forced his hand to move, reaching into his coat where the crimson crystal still sat against his chest, its warm pulse matching the rhythm of his failing heartbeat.

’The anchor,’ he thought, his fingers closing around it, ’if I destroy it, the barrier drops and the statues lose whatever is sustaining them.’

He pulled it free, the crystal glowing bright in his palm while the weight of it felt impossibly heavy, and raised his claymore with his other hand before bringing it down.

The crystal shattered and a pulse of crimson light erupted from the broken pieces, washing across the ruins as the air itself vibrated and the power source was severed. The first statue faltered mid-strike, its movements stuttering for a second as the mana feeding it cut out.

Helen did not waste the opening.

She drove her rapier through the creature’s eye before it could recover, the blade punching clean through its skull and out the back, and the statue went rigid. The crimson light in its eye flickered once, twice, and died.

She ripped the blade free and the creature crumbled, breaking apart and scattering across the tiles until nothing remained but dust and chunks of rock.

Then her knees hit the ground.

She stayed there on all fours, her rapier still clutched in one hand while her broken arm hung useless at her side, her chest heaving as she sucked in air in ragged, broken gasps.

Sweat dripped from her chin onto the ground, mixing with the blood that had been running down her arm since the creature bit through her bracer.

’Finally,’ she thought, her vision blurring at the edges while her lungs burned, ’it is over.’

She did not look up, could not look up, her body had nothing left to give and even lifting her head felt like too much effort. The six shards around her wrist flickered one last time and vanished, the mana completely drained, leaving her with nothing but the hollow ache of total exhaustion.

Across the ruins, the Captain lay on his back with the shattered crystal scattered around him, his eyes fixed on the dark red sky while his breathing slowly evened out.

Neither of them spoke.

The surviving knights stood at the edge of the ruins, their weapons lowered and their faces blank with shock as they stared at the two officers kneeling in the dust, both of them broken, bleeding and completely spent.

One of the younger knights took a step forward, his mouth opening to say something, but the scarred veteran beside him grabbed his arm and shook his head.

’Do not,’ the look said, ’just leave them alone.’

The wind picked up, carrying the smell of blood and dust across the ruins while the last chunks of stone settled around them.

On the other side of the ruins, something was happening that none of them understood.

Juna had been kneeling beside Hajin for the last ten minutes, her hand resting on his chest while her breathing got slower and her eyes got heavier.

She could feel the warmth leaving her body, the energy that had kept her going since the fight started draining out like water through a cracked cup, and she knew she was about to pass out.

Loccy was in the same state, curled up on his other side with her ears drooping and her eyes half-closed, her small frame trembling as her mana reserves hit empty. Vella had it worst of all, her face completely pale and her hands still pressed against Hajin’s back, but the golden light had faded to almost nothing and her body was starting to shake.

’We are all going down,’ Juna thought, her vision blurring, ’and he is still not—’

Something warm pulsed through her chest, faint at first but growing stronger by the second, and the exhaustion that had been pulling her under suddenly eased.

She blinked, her ears twitching as the energy flowed back into her limbs, not a lot but enough to keep her conscious.

Beside her, Loccy let out a small surprised sound, her ears shooting upright as the same warmth spread through her body. She sat up a little straighter, her trembling stopping as the hollow feeling in her core filled back up.

Vella gasped, her hands pressing harder against Hajin’s back as the golden light in her palms flared back to life without her even trying.

’What is happening,’ she thought, her eyes widening as the mana poured into her faster than she could drain it.

Then she saw it, Hajin’s wounds were closing.

The caved-in ribs under his coat were pushing back into place, the skin knitting together with a faint golden glow while the blood on his face dried and flaked away.

Juna stared at his chest, watching the fabric of his coat shift as the bones underneath rearranged themselves, and felt something cold settle in her stomach.

’He is healing,’ she thought, her hand pressing against his chest to feel the movement, ’but he is still not waking up.’

Loccy leaned closer, her ears drooping as she watched his face for any sign of movement. His eyes stayed closed, his expression blank and still, and no matter how much his body repaired itself he did not stir.

Vella pulled her hands away slowly, her palms still glowing with residual light, and looked at the other two.

"He is stabilizing," she said, her voice quiet and strained, "his body is fixing itself, but something is keeping him under."

Juna’s ears flattened, "what do you mean something?"

Vella shook her head, her brow furrowing as she looked down at his peaceful face, "I do not know, but whatever it is, his body is fine now, he should have woken up already."

Juna stared at his face, at the way his expression was completely calm despite everything that had happened, and felt her chest tighten.

She reached out and touched his cheek, her fingers brushing against skin that was warm and alive but unresponsive.

"Where are you, master?" she whispered.