Lucian's grey eyes, weak but stubborn, looked up as Leo stood over him, crimson eyes burning with anger and pain. Lucian's bloody lips managed a faint smile. "Big… brother," he whispered, voice rough, barely there, full of hurt and relief. His eyes closed, body slumping.
Leo dropped to his knees, grabbing Lucian before he fell, his arms shaking under the weight. Blood soaked Lucian's torn coat, staining Leo's hands red.
He forced a shaky grin. "You're too heavy, dumbass." The joke hid his fear, looking at Lucian's wrecked body—ribs crushed, thigh stabbed, hands torn from his shattered blade.
Lucian coughed, blood on his lips, giving a weak laugh. "Don't… make me sound lame," he mumbled, too tired to say more.
Leo stood, lifting Lucian with a grunt, nearly stumbling. He turned, and his crimson eyes locked onto Valtharion's glowing purple ones across the clearing. His stare was pure rage, so fierce it made even Valtharion pause, a tiny flicker of doubt in his stance.
