Garth led the group to a more secure-looking cave. It wasn’t much, but it offered some semblance of safety.

  The remaining Venators gathered to continue their discussion, but the Raid leader hadn’t said a word. Ever since seeing the bodies—his fallen comrades—he had withdrawn into himself. He sat there, broken, silent, guilt pressing down on him like stone.

  Garth noticed the man's state but turned his attention back to the group.

  “We need to make a decision,” Garth said in a hushed tone.

  “I don’t want to go back. I don’t,” someone muttered.

  “Your life is more important than a piece of paper,” Garth replied calmly.

  “Says the Valet who doesn’t even have said piece of paper,” the Earth wielder from earlier scoffed.

  “Don’t talk to him like that. This Valet saved all our lives,” the Medicus snapped.

  His words made the Raid leader stir slightly, lifting his head.

  “Yeah, you saved us. Those bombs—do you have more?” a Fire wielder asked, his tone almost too eager.

  Garth instinctively moved his hand to cover his bag. Those bombs had cost him everything. He couldn’t just give them up.

  “No,” he said firmly.

  “You sure?” the Fire wielder asked, his eyes glinting.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Garth replied, locking eyes with him, unwavering.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going home,” the Earth wielder insisted. “Another strike and I’m as good as dead anyway.”

  “We… we should vote,” the Raid leader finally spoke. His voice was so faint it was almost missed.

  “He’s right,” Garth said. “Let’s vote.”

  He raised his hand. “Those in favor of leaving, raise your hand.”

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  There were eight Venators alive, excluding Garth. Five votes would be enough.

  One hand rose. Then another. Three. Four.

  “Anyone else?” Garth asked. The silence that followed made his tone firmer. “You shouldn’t do this. If you stay, you’ll die.”

  “That’s not a guarantee. There’s a fifty percent chance—” the Earth wielder began, but Garth cut him off.

  “You can’t risk your life on a coin toss. Whatever this Void pays, it’s not worth dying for.”

  “It’s not about the payout! My career—”

  A fifth hand rose.

  It was the Raid leader’s.

  Garth smiled. A Fire wielder frowned barely present in the conversation frowned.

  “No,” the Earth wielder muttered.

  “A decision has been made,” Garth declared.

  “No, no, no,” the Earth wielder wailed.

  “Calm down, Michael. A decision’s been made,” said a Water wielder who had voted to stay.

  “You don’t get it. None of you do!” Michael shouted. “I can’t do anything else but fight, and I’m the eldest son. My family depends on me. This is the only way I can provide.”

  “You’ll find another way,” Garth said gently.

  “No. If you’re not going, I’ll go alone.”

  “Stop,” Garth said, stepping in front of him.

  “Get out of my way.” Energy began to swirl around Michael.

  “Michael…” the Water wielder tried to intervene.

  “No, stop,” Garth raised a hand. “Listen. You think we don’t understand, but we do. I do. The Kingdom—the whole system—it’s messed up. I can barely provide for my family. I’m sure that’s true for many of us.”

  He looked around at the others.

  “But as long as you’re breathing, there’s a way. There’s always a way. That’s what matters. If you die here, you’re leaving your family behind with nothing.”

  Michael stood frozen.

  “Please,” Garth said, voice steady. “Come with us. We’ll figure something out—together.”

  Michael said nothing, his gaze fell and he hesitated.

  Silence enveloped them, then he spoke.

  Fine,” he whispered. The energy around him dissipated

  Garth smiled faintly and turned to the Medicus.

  “How long will it take you to heal everyone?”

  “At my rank and level… an hour, maybe less,” he replied.

  “That’s a long time.”

  “Sorry, I was supposed to work with another Medicus but…”

  “I understand,” Garth said, cutting him off.

  He turned toward the cave entrance.

  “Demons could find us any minute. I'd stand watch but I'm just a Valet. Could someone else—"

  “I’ll do it,” Michael offered.

  “No. Anyone but you,” Garth said quickly.

  “You don’t have to worry. I won’t do anything reckless,” Michael assured him.

  Garth hesitated.

  “Just…trust me." Michael added.

  Still hesitant, Garth sighed and stepped aside.

  Michael passed him and took position near the entrance.

  Garth leaned against a wall and sank to the ground. He stared ahead, thoughts racing.

  He had accomplished nothing. His last Shakles, gone. His goals—still far from realized.

  If he left the group after they exited, maybe he could return to the Void and gather demon cores to sell, grow in power or anything.

  But if it looked like he had abandoned them on purpose… they could report him. He could end up in prison.

  “Damn it,” he thought. He couldn’t have wasted everything for nothing. He needed a plan. Fast.

  Maybe he should’ve volunteered for watch and made a break for it. But leaving them vulnerable? He couldn’t do that.

  A voice broke the silence.

  “Hey, by the way… who died and made you the leader?” the Fire wielder who had been watching silently sneered.

  “Quit it, Fire wielder,” another party member muttered.

  “No, I’m serious. Who put him in charge? Why the hell are we taking orders from a low-ranking Valet?”

  Garth stayed silent.

  “A Valet who saved us,” the Raid leader said, still not making eye contact. “When we were being picked off like rodents. I didn’t see you stepping up, high-ranking Fire wielder.”

  The Fire wielder scowled, the fell silent. His gaze still intent on Garth.

  An hour passed quickly and they began their journey back.

  Garth never stopped looking for an escape route.

  “You know,” the Fire wielder said, stepping ahead of the group. “I wish we had continued. We might’ve had a fifty percent, maybe even more chance of surviving.”

  His words drew glances from the others.

  “But now? You’ve signed your death warrants.”

  The group stopped.

  Without warning, he turned and unleashed a torrent of fire at full force.

  Screams filled the cave as the flames consumed them.

  Garth watched it all unfold from behind, his limbs frozen in place, too shocked to even react.