Eamon gritted his teeth and swung his blade down hard. The puppet's wooden limbs cracked under the strike. Another one leapt at him from behind. He turned just in time, slashing across its chest. More followed. From every direction, they came. Dozens. No, maybe hundreds. The ground beneath him trembled with their weight.
He tried to hold his ground, but they pushed him back. One grabbed his arm. Another caught his leg. Soon, he was buried under them, his body crushed beneath the weight of clawing, crawling puppets.
Then, with a deep breath and a sudden growl, Eamon shouted from beneath them.
"Arcana Flaming Fountain!"
The ground was covered in fire.
A fountain of fire erupted beneath him. Flames burst through the horde, engulfing them in searing heat. The puppets' earthen limbs crackled. Hollow faces burned. The puppets were flung into the air like leaves in a storm.
From the heart of the inferno, Eamon stood up. His cloak was torn. His face covered in ash and blood. But he was alive. The puppets near him were nothing more than burning fragments.
But the silence didn't last long.
A fresh wave of puppets appeared from the distance. Their eyes glowed the same eerie green. Eamon's shoulders dropped. He didn't have the strength to fight again. But he ran. He didn't know where. He just ran.
Dust kicked up around him as he stumbled down a slope. His legs dragged behind him. He reached a large rock formation. There—behind it—a cave.
He didn't stop to think.
He entered the cave.
Behind him, the puppets were closing in fast. He spun around, his hand raised.
"Arcana Flicker Blaze!"
A swirling ring of fire burst from his palm, rushing outward like a wave. It swallowed the puppets whole. Screams—hollow and shrill—echoed as their bodies burned to blackened ash.
More came. Again, he raised his hand to use the same spell again.
"Arcana Flicker Blaze!"
The flames roared to life again. His knees buckled. His vision dimmed for a second. He had been fighting for hours. His body couldn't take much more.
He stumbled deeper into the cave and collapsed against the wall. He raised one shaky hand and formed a wall of fire across the cave entrance. The flame flickered, casting shadows on the cave walls.
The puppets screeched outside but couldn't enter. They pounded on the flame wall, unable to break through.
Eamon slumped to the ground and breathed heavily. Sweat ran down his forehead. He closed his eyes, letting the warm light of the fire fill the cave. But the fire wasn't going to hold for long.
He could feel it in his body. He wasn't trained in maintaining magic that stayed on its own. This wasn't his strength. His hand hovered in the air, trembling as he kept the spell alive.
His lips trembled.
"Come on... just a little longer..."
But his arms gave out. His focus shattered. The fire wall vanished. He cursed under his breath and jumped to his feet. The puppets rushed in, claws ready.
"Arcana Flame Whip!"
A blazing whip burst from his palm. He lashed out, sweeping it across the horde. One strike threw five puppets into the wall. Another cleared a path to the outside.
He ran again. Out of the cave. Onto the open sands. The wind hit his face. He breathed in sharply. But they kept coming. No matter how many he burned or crushed or shattered, they returned. Like waves. Endless waves.
He ran toward a small sand dune and climbed it. The slope gave way beneath his feet, but he forced himself up. He stood at the top, chest heaving. He looked around. They were everywhere. He turned. To his left. To his right. Behind. In front. Surrounded. They crawled up the dune, clawing their way to him.
He glanced down. The puppets were tearing away at the base of the sand hill. It trembled beneath him. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his weapon.
"I'm not done yet."
He raised his blade again, but his hand shook. His legs gave out. He fell to his knees. Then to his side.
His vision blurred. His muscles burned. Every inch of his body screamed in pain. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the sky, painted orange by the setting sun.
Then everything turned dark. He felt the blows land on his back. His sides. His legs. The puppets had reached him. They began beating him without mercy. Each strike dug deeper into his flesh. He groaned, unable to lift his arms. He couldn't even scream anymore.
Blood pooled around him. Dust choked the air. He closed his eyes. Then, from the depths of his being, he decided to use the last ounce of energy left. A final spell. His lips moved on their own.
"Arcana... Crimson Requiem!"
A circle formed around him. The very air around turned red.
Then— Boom.
A fiery storm exploded outward. Flames spun like tornados. Heat ripped through the air. The ground cracked and burst. Sand turned to glass. Waves of fire expanded in every direction. A red dome rose above the battlefield and collapsed into a devastating ring of heat. It consumed everything.
Puppets burned. Their earthen bodies melted and shattered. One by one, every puppet crumbled into cinders.
In the distance, Arvin stood on a cliff. He watched the explosion light up the horizon.
He froze. "Oh no... Eamon..."
His heart raced. Without a word, he took off running. He leaped over rocks, dashed through dry streams, and crossed dunes. The wind howled around him. When he reached the site, the world was still burning. Everything was scorched.
Blackened remains of puppets littered the ground like burnt leaves. Flames still licked the sand in waves. At the center, in the middle of the fiery ruin, lay Eamon.
His body didn't move. "Eamon!"
Arvin extended his hands. The ground beneath the flames parted. Earth split open in a line. The fire was pushed aside. He ran into the burning field, ignoring the heat on his skin. He knelt beside Eamon and lifted him in his arms.
Eamon's clothes were torn. His body was covered in cuts and burns. Blood ran down his cheek. Arvin touched his face.
"Hey... Hey, wake up. It's me."
No answer.
"Come on, son. Don't do this."
Still nothing. Arvin placed his ear to Eamon's chest.
A heartbeat. Faint. Too slow.
His hands trembled.
"Hold on, son. You'll be alright. Just stay with me."
He carried Eamon back to the house.