Hope staggered, his vision blurring as pain exploded through his body.
His arm—gone.
A gaping wound where his shoulder used to be, flesh torn, blood gushing in a crimson waterfall.
His mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
One second, he was attacking—his dagger poised to strike—
The next, his entire arm was missing.
A scream tried to escape his throat, but only a ragged gasp came out. His body locked up, shock seizing his nerves. His remaining hand trembled as he instinctively reached for the empty space where his arm should have been.
The Centaur towered over him, its red eyes glowing with something that almost seemed like amusement.
It didn't even see him as a threat anymore.
Hope tried to move, tried to step back, but his body wasn't responding.
Then—
A wet sound.
A piercing stab.
Hope's head snapped towards Kelvin—
And his blood froze.
Kelvin sat against a rock, breathing hard, his body broken from the previous counterattack. His broad sword—once a mighty weapon—was now shattered, half of its blade lying meters away.
His grip had gone weak.
His armor was cracked, his shield long gone.
And now—
A spear was buried in his chest.
The Centaur stood over him, its massive hand still gripping the spear's shaft, its expression unreadable.
Kelvin coughed violently, blood bubbling from his lips. His fingers twitched, as if trying to grab something, but his strength was failing.
Hope's breath came out in shallow gasps, his vision spinning from the pain and blood loss—
But his focus was locked on Kelvin.
> No... no, no, no!
Kelvin tried to speak. His lips parted slightly, but only a weak, choking sound came out.
Then—
The Centaur twisted the spear.
A sickening crack echoed through the battlefield.
Kelvin's body jerked violently, his spine arching from the sheer agony—
Then, he went still.
His hands fell limp, his broad sword slipping from his grasp.
His eyes, once filled with determination, dimmed into lifelessness.
Hope felt his heart stop.
> No… no… NO!
Kelvin was dead.
A warrior who had fought with everything—who had stood his ground even when the odds were impossible—was now nothing more than a corpse pinned to a rock.
The Centaur finally released the spear. Kelvin's body slumped, his head tilting forward, blood trickling from his mouth.
Hope's mind went blank.
Pain—rage—despair—
All of it collapsed into a single, unbearable weight.
His knees buckled, the world tilting as the blood loss caught up to him.
But before he collapsed, the Centaur finally turned back to him.
Its eyes—burning red like embers in the dark—locked onto him.
Then, for the first time—
It spoke.
> "Pitiful."
The voice was deep, distorted, like something not meant for human ears.