Fifty iron-plated arrowheads flew through the air, shining faintly under the light as they rained down toward their target, a lone figure sprinting across the open ground.
Tyler ran as fast as his legs would carry him.
His shield was raised high, blocking the storm of arrows that fell from above. Every few seconds, the sound of steel clashing against his shield echoed loudly, but he didn't stop moving.
He couldn't afford to.
Some arrows missed, others hit, and a few found the small gaps the shield didn't cover. One struck his ankle, another pierced his thigh, and two more grazed his leg.
Tyler grunted in pain but kept running.
His body burned, but he pushed forward. He didn't have the time or luxury to stop.
The bowmen quickly reached for more arrows.
Their fingers moved fast, drawing new ones from their quivers and nocking them on their bows.
They were preparing another round. Meanwhile, Tyler had already covered more than half the distance between them.
The swordsmen and spearmen guarding the area noticed this and shouted to one another.
They rushed forward, weapons raised, trying to block Tyler's advance before the bowmen could shoot again.
Their footsteps thundered against the ground. Spears pointed at Tyler's chest while swords gleamed, ready to cut him down.
Tyler braced himself.
With his sword in his right hand and his damaged shield in his left, he met their charge head-on.
Steel clashed with steel, sparks flying in every direction as the sounds of battle filled the prison yard.
The soldiers had numbers, but Tyler had something greater, Magus strength.
As a Magus, he was no longer just human. His strength, speed, and endurance were far beyond what any normal person could ever hope to match.
Even trained warriors, men who had spent decades fighting on bloody fields, were powerless before a true Magus.
Against a Magus, no number of ordinary men could make a difference, unless the Magus was careless.
But Tyler wasn't careless. He was focused. Every movement, every strike, every block, all were deliberate and precise.
For every soldier who crossed his path, only a lifeless body remained to prove they had ever existed.
Even Tyler was shocked at the raw power flowing through his body.
He hadn't realized what it truly meant to be a Magus until now.
Each swing of his sword tore through armor and flesh alike. Every step he took left another soldier down.
The enemy's attacks landed too, punches, kicks, and even glancing blows from spears. They barely slowed him down.
His body was too strong. His will was too firm.
Within moments, the ground was littered with corpses. The smell of blood and smoke mixed into the air.
"A Magus!" someone screamed.
The shout came from the guard captain, who had been watching from behind.
Only now did he realize what they were fighting. No human could move like that or survive so many attacks.
The captain's face darkened.
A prisoner who had suddenly turned into a Magus? Impossible, but the proof was right in front of him.
Tyler's strength could not be denied.
He quickly called over one of his men and whispered an order.
The soldier nodded and ran off immediately toward the main palace to deliver the message? They were facing a Magus in the prison zone.
The captain knew his current forces wouldn't be enough.
Ordinary weapons were useless against someone like that. So he gave another order.
"Switch to fire arrows!" he barked.
The bowmen obeyed without question. Regular arrows might pierce skin, but they couldn't bring a Magus down fast enough. Fire, however, could.
While Tyler was still fighting off the swordsmen and spearmen, the bowmen quickly dipped their arrowheads into oil.
A nearby guard ran along the line with a torch, lighting each arrow one by one until they all burned with bright orange flames.
Once ready, the captain raised his hand.
The front-line soldiers understood and immediately pulled back, retreating from Tyler's range so the archers would have a clear shot.
Now, Tyler stood alone in the open field, surrounded by bodies and the faint glow of dying flames.
When he looked up, what he saw seemed almost beautiful, dozens of fiery streaks lighting up the night sky like falling stars.
But those weren't stars.
And their beauty vanished the moment they began to descend.
He didn't have time to admire the view. If even one of those fire arrows struck him, he would burn alive.
Tyler dropped his damaged shield. It was already cracked and scorched. Instead, he grabbed hold of something nearby, the corpse of a soldier he had just killed.
Lifting it, he positioned the body between himself and the incoming arrows.
The first volley hit.
The arrows thudded into the corpse, setting parts of it on fire. The smell was horrible, but the body shielded him well enough for now.
He crouched low, staying behind the dead man as more fire arrows rained down.
Some struck the ground nearby, flames spreading fast over the dirt and bodies around him. The heat was suffocating.
The arrows didn't stop.
Each time one wave ended, another began almost instantly.
The bowmen were shooting faster now, desperate to end it before Tyler could move again.
The body shield he used was already burning, the flames crawling closer to him.
He knew he couldn't stay there forever.
He had to move, now.
Just as he prepared to dash toward safety, he caught sight of something in the distance.
His classmates.
From where he hid, he could see them, screaming, panicking, trying to escape.
Some were already on fire, their clothes and hair burning as they rolled on the ground, crying in agony.
Others were running back toward the prison building, hoping the stone walls would protect them.
Tyler's eyes widened in horror.
The bowmen weren't just aiming at him. They were targeting everyone, his classmates included.
He wanted to shout, to give them a signal to hide, but the words froze in his throat. His mind went blank for a moment.
He could only watch.
Several of the students who ran back into the prison found themselves trapped as more guards blocked the entrance. The bowmen shifted their aim, giving the swordsmen and spearmen time to chase the survivors down.
Tyler's heart pounded in his chest. Rage and despair boiled inside him.
They were going to kill them, every single one of them.
"No!" he shouted, the word breaking through the crackling fire and chaos around him.
He couldn't understand. Why?
Why kill them all? Some of them had never even fought back.
Some just wanted to live a quiet life, far away from all of this madness.
But none of that mattered to the Vermont soldiers.
They would burn everything, men, women, the helpless, just to crush one Magus.
And then, in that burning chaos, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.
[ told you, did I not...
Abandon them]