Tobias keeps his distance, his boots crunching softly against the forest floor as he trails Amari, Freyr, and Apollo. The trio's hurried movements betray their desperation, weaving through narrow pathways that seem etched into the mountainside. Tobias remains calm, his hand occasionally brushing the revolver at his hip, his sharp eyes calculating the next move.
Back at the battleground, Erling struggles to his feet, his metallic armor fractured, and his breaths labored. Blood seeps from the exposed cracks in his skin. Though determined, his body falters as he begins his slow march toward the castle.
Every step feels heavier than the last, and he soon collapses onto the side of the road, his vision blurring. A few civilians rush over, drawn by the echoes of explosions. Their eyes widen at the sight of Erling's battered state. Without hesitation, they work to stabilize him, using strips of fabric to stem the bleeding and offering water to soothe his pain.
