The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master-Chapter 145: Defenseless

Vencian and Seris moved between the trees, choosing direction by instinct rather than certainty. The ground slanted unevenly, roots rising under fallen leaves. The forest closed in around them, holding sound beneath the canopy.

His vision still was still no good. But it was enough to receive Seris’ scrutiny.

As they walked, a thought surfaced in Vencian’s mind. It was fragile and unwelcome. He hoped no one would follow.

Larion’s object came to mind. The single measure prepared for a moment like this. Vencian had already been used at the mansion as soon as his vision had recovered.

If it worked, Larion would now be stepping into the aftermath. A mansion torn open. A fight too visible to conceal. Authority would arrive. Order would take control. What remained would no longer belong to Therell or Malox.

Vencian said nothing.

He let the thought sit untouched as they went deeper into the forest, putting distance between themselves and what they had left behind.

His mind returned to Aline and Elías. The question came from the side rather than head-on. Had she reached him. Had the warning arrived in time to matter. He imagined corridors filling with people, authority arriving too late, explanations chasing events they could not catch.

Seris spoke, and this time there was certainty in her voice.

"They came for me," she said. "With a plan in mind."

She kept walking as she spoke, eyes forward. Her attention stayed on the forest. Her voice carried the calm of something she had said before.

"They do not act randomly," she continued. "They draw attention first. Noise. Confusion. The real objective moves beneath that. If Aline escaped, focus will shift. Retrieving me comes first."

Vencian followed, frowning. "You are assuming a great deal."

"I am recognizing a pattern."

She said it as observation, not comfort.

He considered it as they walked. "So the destruction was a distraction."

"Yes."

"And failing does not change their goal."

"It narrows it," Seris said. "They will regroup."

Vencian let out a slow breath. "Meaning Aline and Elías are safe."

"For now," Seris said. "They are not the priority."

The forest pressed closer. Sound dulled beneath the trees. His fear remained, but it changed shape.

"They will reassess," he said.

"They already have."

He looked at her. "You sound sure."

"They committed too much," she replied. "Two Arkspren. One who bends space. An artifact they cannot afford to lose." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Vencian took that in. It did not remove the danger. It did not promise safety. It gave the situation shape. The tightness in his chest eased enough for his breathing to steady.

Understanding mattered. It turned disorder into sequence. It let him think beyond the next step.

They kept moving through the forest, leaving the broken night behind them.

They continued forward, guided more by the land than intention. Slopes and roots chose their path. Darkness pressed close, broken only by pale trunks passing nearby.

Vencian’s thoughts turned inward.

The night replayed in fragments. He had known the risk. He had planned for it. His people were placed around the gathering, spaced wide enough to stay hidden, close enough to respond. It had required quiet coordination. None of it had mattered. The attack came from inside, too fast and too close. It cut through the center before any response could form.

He held onto one hope. That his people would reach the mansion in time. That they could seal corridors, pull students back, stop panic from becoming slaughter. Chaos still had limits.

Another thought followed. When his absence was noticed, the message would spread. His mother would hear it through careful words that failed her. He did not know whether that thought weighed heavier for her or for him.

The thought settled.

Time slipped by without marking itself.

The strain faded from his limbs, breath settling into something usable again, the forest no longer forcing itself into his attention.

He became aware of how little he was leaning on her now.

She was capable. Too capable.

He still did not trust her, not fully, and the thought arrived without urgency. Alone, he could move faster. Alone, he would not need to hide what he could do. Using his power around her remained a risk he had no interest in taking.

Vencian slowed, then stopped.

"We should separate here," he said.

Seris halted a few steps ahead and turned back.

"There is no advantage in moving together," he continued. "You know where you are going. So do I."

She studied him for a moment. Her expression did not change.

"Very well," Seris said.

She did not argue. She did not ask questions. She only adjusted her path and waited.

He turned to leave.

Something fell behind him.

The sound cut through the forest, dull and wrong.

Vencian turned back and saw Seris on the ground.

"Seris," he said, getting close to her. He shook her once, then again. She did not respond.

Quenya’s voice cut in, startled. "She can fall?"

Vencian exhaled. "Later."

He adjusted his grip, registering the change as he did. The guard she always carried had slipped away. What remained felt exposed and distant from the woman who had bent space moments earlier.

He did not move right away.

The forest waited. So did the choice.

Leaving her would be simpler.

She slowed him. She drew attention. Helping her meant risk he had already decided to avoid. He could turn, walk, and reach safety faster alone.

Another memory surfaced, unwanted.

When he had been acting unconcious to deceive the enemy, she had spoken to their them. Not for herself. For him. She had asked for his release.

Whether it had changed anything did not matter.

She had cared.

That was enough.

He hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her, settling her weight against his chest. His vision dulled at the edges as strain caught up with him.

"Guide," he said.

Quenya did. Her presence pulled him along a clear line through the trees as he carried Seris deeper into the forest, one careful step at a time.

---

Larion Marendil reached the ravine long after the noise had faded.

The ground still told the story. Broken grass. Displaced stone. Tracks from boots that had run without restraint. He stood at the edge, cloak tugged by cold air, eyes fixed on the distance where Malox and Therell had vanished.

He had come fast. Faster than protocol allowed. The message from Vencian had arrived in fragments. Urgency without detail. The meaning had been clear.

Danger. Movement. Limited time.

The thought followed him, persistent and unwelcome.

Too late.