Assassins and Angels

114: Final Battle Arc; Mourning and Reflections

The battle was finally over. Asmodeus, the once formidable foe, lay vanquished under the relentless assault of the sun's rays. The fighters, weary and battered, watched in awe as the demon's form disintegrated into nothingness.

Madelyn, staggered to her feet, her body aching from the exertion of battle. She glanced around at her comrades, a mixture of relief and sorrow filling her heart. Despite the victory, they had lost friends and allies in the fight against Asmodeus.

"Attend to the wounded," Madelyn commanded, her voice firm but laced with fatigue. "We must ensure that everyone receives the care they need."

The assassins quickly sprang into action, tending to the injured with a sense of urgency. Bandages were applied, wounds were cleaned, and soothing words were whispered to those in pain.

Meanwhile, SSundee approached the Shadowcaster, a somber expression on his face. The Shadowcaster, though gravely wounded, greeted him with a faint smile.

"I wanted to apologize," SSundee began, his voice tinged with regret. "For the day we were separated, for the arguments we had."

The Shadowcaster listened quietly, his eyes filled with understanding. "There is no need for apologies, my friend," he replied softly. "We have all made mistakes."

The Shadowcaster, his strength fading with each passing moment, reached out a trembling hand and placed it on SSundee's shoulder. "You were always there," he said softly. "Even when you were gone, I knew you were watching over me."

SSundee's eyes brimmed with tears as he listened to the Shadowcaster's words. "I never meant to leave you," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "I only wanted to protect you."

The Shadowcaster smiled weakly, his eyes filled with understanding. "You did what you had to do," he said. "And for that, I am grateful."

With a final, heartfelt embrace, the Shadowcaster closed his eyes and let out a breath, his body going limp in SSundee's arms. SSundee held him close, his tears mingling with the dust and debris of the battlefield.

As the sun continued its ascent, casting its warm light upon the battlefield, Crainer regained consciousness in Slogo's arms. Weak and fading, he looked up at his friend with tear-filled eyes.

"We won, didn't we?" Crainer whispered, his voice barely audible.

Slogo nodded, his own eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, we did," he replied hoarsely. "But at a great cost."

Crainer shook his head, his strength waning with each passing moment. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I couldn't do more."

Slogo's heart ached at his friend's words. "You did everything you could," he reassured him, his voice trembling with emotion. "You were brave until the end."

As Crainer's breathing grew shallow, Slogo held him close, whispering words of comfort as his friend slipped away.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Nico regained consciousness, his body battered but his spirit unbroken. Biffle, his loyal friend and companion, stood by his side, offering words of encouragement.

"Tell Maia that I love her," Biffle murmured, his voice weak but filled with conviction. "And tell her that I fought to the very end."

Nico rolled his eyes. Ugh, dramatic.

And as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light upon the battlefield, the fighters mourned their losses and celebrated their victory. For though they had emerged victorious, they knew that the cost of war was always steep.

Was it?