Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 146: Life Goes On

Abram Ross stood on the field adjacent the staging ground, a heavy wind stirring his cloak and brushing against the cold steel of his armor.

His sword, Freedom, hung by his side, its weight comforting and at the same time, depressing.

It forced him to go through questions in his mind. Would things have turned out this way if he’d been with his sword? If he’d taken the time to actually ascend to Rank 6?

He knew objectively that the battle was now in the past and there was nothing he could change about it, but his mind kept repeating the same sentence.

He’d killed his own son.

The morning sun rose in the east, greeting those who had just woken up but Abram hadn’t slept. Not for a moment. Not since Ren had come back from the capital, wrath written in every line of his body.

Not since he’d delivered the message.

There would be no army.

House Ross would stand alone.

There was no denying it. He’d killed his son. If only he’d accepted the offer immediately.

Not for the first time since dawn, he cursed himself for being the way he was. He cursed his father who had made him this way. He cursed himself for not casting away the shackles that had always been holding him back.

He should have broken them long ago. Not for himself. For his children. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything, Darius’ death had only made him retreat even more into his shell.

He inhaled, breathing in the cool morning hair before exhaling. If this was going to be their last stand, Abram had no intention of dying.

He would fight with every ounce of strength he had left. He’d make sure none of his children had to die. And if it came to it, he’d fall with a blade in hand.

He watched as the teleporters stepped forward, using their imbued items.

They’d brought all the mustered Ross soldiers to the staging ground from their various villages. Now, it was time for another army.

A low filled the air as the space in front of him warped and twisted like a shirt that had been bunched up too tight.

Purple sparks filled the air, forming an outline of a circle and slowly, a portal shimmered into existence.

A second later, his friend, Lord Thomas Underwood, stepped out of it.

Wearing dark silver armor, the Lord of House Underwood moved with calm authority. He didn’t look remotely close to the drunk wreck that he’d heard his friend was becoming.

The Underwood Knights followed closely behind the man, rows of disciplined warriors and a larger force of soldiers fanning out behind them.

Abram didn’t wait for the Underwood banners to finish their crossing over before he stepped forward to meet his friend. Their hands met in a firm grip before Thomas pulled him in for a brief hug.

"I’m sorry, Abram." Thomas said, voice low. "I heard about Darius. He was a good man."

"He was." Abram said. His voice was gravelly, but calm. Not a hint of the thoughts in his head bleeding through. "He died protecting his family. I couldn’t have asked for more."

Thomas pulled back, eyes flicking to the field in the distance where the battle had taken place, before looking back at his friend. "I brought three hundred Knights and a thousand soldiers. Fresh. They’re all yours."

Abram nodded slowly. "Thank you, old friend."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching as Robert and a few Ross Knights took control, the Underwood forces settling in among the Ross forces.

The combined armies were still outnumbered by the barbarians outside the barrier, but the gap was getting smaller. The problem wasn’t the number of soldiers the barbarians had. It was the fact that they were all Druids.

"I have another favor to ask." Abram said, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

Thomas turned to look at him. "Name it."

"I want to evacuate the villagers. All of them. This war will spill into the village and they’d have to bear the brunt of it. I want to send them to your land by portal. When the war ends, they’ll come home."

Thomas frowned slightly, considering. "That will take time. Logistics. Space. Resources."

"I know. But if they stay here, they’ll die. I won’t let this war consume them too."

There was a long pause before Thomas finally nodded. "We’ll make room. Start preparing your people. I’ll have my men coordinate the portals."

"Thank you."

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Ren sat alone in the suffocating silence of his room, the morning light creeping through the windows, painting everything in a happy hue. But things were as far from happy as they’d ever been.

He hadn’t moved in hours. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at but not seeing the stone wall opposite him.

He had nothing left to do. Nothing to say. He had gone to the capital. He had offered everything. And it hadn’t been enough. Darius’ death had meant nothing to them.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he did until the door creaked open.

Ren didn’t look.

"Ren." Thorn said as he stepped into the room. "You’ve got visitors."

Ren looked up, eyes dull.

Standing behind Thorn was Elias, his expression strained as he supported the frail form of Lilith.

Ren shot to his feet, rushing forward. "Lilith!"

She looked just as pale as the last time he’d seen her, lips still tinged with blue, but she was awake. Her breathing was shallow, but her eyes were alive.

Ren reached her, taking her into his arms, ignoring the heat pouring from her body. She was still burning up. But she was here. She was awake.

"You shouldn’t be out of bed." He murmured against her hair.

Lilith smiled faintly, whispering. "I had to see you, Ren."

Ren held her tightly, trembling.

"I heard about Darius." She continued.

"I couldn’t..." Ren’s voice broke. "I couldn’t save him."

Lilith raised her hand, weakly stroking his hair. "You don’t have to carry this alone, Ren. We’re here for you."

Ren broke. His chest hitched, breath shuddering, and the tears came, hot and silent.

They stayed that way for a long while, the three of them together in the quiet room.

But for the first time in what felt like days, Ren felt like he could breathe again.

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Outside, horns sounded in the distance.

The evacuation had begun.

The villagers would be safe.

But the warriors of House Ross and Underwood would remain.