Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 41

The forest was silent, a blanket of mist curling around the trees as dawn approached. Eren and Alaric moved cautiously through the underbrush, their steps muffled by the damp earth. They had a meeting planned, one that could change everything. Rumors had spread of a group—disenchanted soldiers and mages who had broken away from Azrael's forces, seeking a way out. Alaric's network had finally found them.

As they approached the clearing, Eren noticed the slight shift in Alaric's posture—a quiet vigilance that set his senses on edge. They were in hostile territory, and the potential for betrayal lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

The group awaited them under a dense canopy of trees, shadows masking their faces. Alaric stepped forward, his voice steady. "We're here to talk, nothing more. If that's not what you wanted, we'll leave."

One of the figures shifted, a tall man with a scar running from his temple down to his jaw, his face hardened with years of conflict. He gave a curt nod. "Let's talk, then."

Eren kept his eyes sharp, studying each member of the group. They were all seasoned, bearing the marks of battle and survival. Some looked like they had been loyal soldiers once, but something in their expressions spoke of bitterness, betrayal—a shared disillusionment with Azrael's reign.

---

The scarred man spoke first, his voice low but cutting through the silence. "I don't care for speeches, so I'll keep it simple. Azrael's rule has gone unchecked for too long. We're ready to fight back, but we're not fools. We need resources, strategy, people we can trust. And we don't trust anyone." His gaze shifted to Eren, suspicion simmering in his eyes. "Especially not newcomers."

Eren met his stare, unflinching. He knew trust was a currency too valuable to offer freely in their world, and he respected that. "I don't expect trust," he replied evenly. "All I ask is the chance to prove that we share the same enemy. That we're willing to fight, just as you are."

The man's eyes narrowed, as if weighing the words. After a tense silence, he glanced at Alaric. "You vouch for him?"

Alaric nodded, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his weapon. "He's proven himself in ways that matter. If you're serious about taking down Azrael, you'll want him on your side."

The group exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. After a beat, the man spoke again. "Then consider this your chance. But if you betray us, you won't live to regret it."

Eren nodded, accepting the terms without hesitation. He had long since abandoned any illusions of trust or loyalty beyond necessity. Here, survival meant adaptation, alliances forged in mutual benefit rather than idealism.

---

Over the following weeks, Eren and Alaric worked with the group, learning their methods, studying their tactics, and, slowly, carving out a plan to chip away at Azrael's grip on power. Their enemy was vast, the reach of his influence nearly absolute. But even the mightiest walls had cracks, and it was through those fissures that they would strike.

Their attacks began small, almost imperceptible—a sabotaged supply line here, a stolen shipment there. Each blow was aimed not at Azrael's power but at his foundation, weakening the structures that held his influence together. With each victory, no matter how minor, they gained allies, drawing more defectors and disillusioned followers to their side.

In every strike, Eren felt the familiar surge of purpose, a dark, potent energy that fueled his every decision. He was no longer a pawn in someone else's game. For the first time since his arrival in Ezura, he was a player—a force to be reckoned with.

---

One night, as they planned their next move, Alaric pulled Eren aside, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You're growing stronger, Eren. But strength without caution is a weapon just as dangerous to its wielder."

Eren's brow furrowed, irritation flaring. "What are you getting at, Alaric? This isn't the time for hesitation."

Alaric held his gaze, his tone grave. "It's not hesitation, it's experience. Don't let your hatred for Azrael blind you. We're not just fighting him; we're fighting an entire system. One mistake, one miscalculation, and we'll lose everything."

Eren took a breath, forcing himself to calm. He understood Alaric's warning, but the fire within him was not so easily tempered. "I know what I'm doing."

Alaric's eyes held a flicker of doubt, but he nodded, clapping Eren on the shoulder. "Then let's hope you're right."

---

Their next mission was meant to be simple—intercept a convoy carrying vital intelligence to Azrael's forces. But as they lay in wait along the narrow mountain pass, it became clear they had misjudged. The convoy was heavily guarded, an entire battalion flanking the carriages.

Eren's heart sank, but he steeled himself, signaling to Alaric and the others. They could not back down. To retreat now would mean defeat, a sign of weakness Azrael's forces would exploit mercilessly.

The first wave of spells erupted, fiery orbs and shimmering bolts cutting through the night. Eren summoned his own power, his focus narrowing to a single goal: destruction. He sent a pulse of energy hurtling toward the front line, scattering the guards and leaving a gap in their defenses.

But as he pressed forward, a sharp pain tore through his side. He staggered, gritting his teeth as he glanced down to see blood spreading across his tunic. The wound was deep, and every movement sent fresh waves of agony through his body.

Alaric was at his side in an instant, his face taut with worry. "Eren, fall back!"

But Eren shook his head, a fierce determination in his eyes. "We finish this. No retreat."

With gritted teeth, he raised his hand, channeling every ounce of energy into a final strike. The spell erupted from his palm, a torrent of raw force that obliterated the remaining guards, leaving nothing but scorched earth in its wake.

When the dust settled, the convoy lay in ruins, but the victory was hollow. They had lost two more members, and Eren could barely stand, his vision blurring as the blood loss took its toll.

---

They returned to the safe house under the cover of darkness, Eren leaning heavily on Alaric as they stumbled through the forest. The silence between them was heavy, a grim reminder of the cost of defiance.

As Alaric tended to Eren's wound, he spoke quietly, almost to himself. "This path we're on...it will only get darker."

Eren's gaze was distant, his mind already turning to their next move, the next battle. "Then we'll become whatever we need to survive."

Alaric said nothing, but his eyes held a sadness Eren did not acknowledge.