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Elio could feel desperation growing among their ranks.

How much longer could they hold out?

He saw Varick and his squad fighting fiercely. For a moment, their eyes met, and Elio thought he saw a glimmer of respect in his former bully's gaze.

"Elio!" Ren's voice cut through the chaos. "Look at the sky!"

Elio glanced up. For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Then, his optimism surged.

God's punishment, the barrier that kept most monsters at bay, seemed... stronger. The energy rays composing it shone with renewed intensity.

"What's the deal?" Kriz panted, hope and confusion mingling in his voice.

As if answering his question, a messenger came running.

"News from Summoner Von Lucien!" the man shouted, breathless. "They've increased the tower's mana! Two extra points from each level 2 soldier!"

A murmur of astonishment rippled through the ranks. Elio felt a weight lift from his shoulders. With the barrier reinforced, the flow of monsters would stop.

"You heard him!" Elio rallied. "Push through! The end's in sight!"

The defenders surged forward with renewed vigor. Slowly, inexorably, the battle began to tip in their favor.

After what seemed an eternity, the last Locus fell.

Elio surveyed the carnage. The wall was a tapestry of blood and broken bodies, the stench of death heavy in the air.

"Ren," Elio called, his voice hoarse from exertion. "How bad was it?"

Ren was already tallying. "Our squad? Minimal losses. The others..." His voice wavered. "It's... substantial."

Elio nodded grimly. Their group had weathered the storm, but many others hadn't been so fortunate.

"Damn it," Kriz muttered, his usual joviality completely absent. "How many did we lose?"

Zara approached Elio, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We did everything we could," she said softly. "Our squad held out thanks to you."

♢♢♢♢

Elio stood atop the wall, gazing at the city where his family lived, those he had sworn to protect. But on the other side were also the soldiers who'd trusted in his infallible method.

Guilt and pain warred within him, threatening to spill over.

The air, always scarce, seemed even heavier today. It wasn't just the lack of oxygen; it was the weight of lost lives.

"How could everything go so wrong?" he whispered to the indifferent sky.

Zara appeared at his side. "This isn't on you, Elio. No one saw this coming."

Elio shook his head, unable to accept the comfort. "My strategy... it was supposed to save lives, not put them in more danger."

"And it did," Kriz interjected, uncharacteristically somber. "Without your technique, we'd be counting a lot more bodies."

Elio nodded, grateful for their support, but the guilt lingered. He watched as soldiers prepared for the grim task ahead.

The bodies of the fallen lay in orderly rows, each wrapped in a simple white shroud. It was a heartbreaking sight, a cruel reminder of the costs of survival in the walled city God had given them.

"It's time," Micah said softly.

The team moved closer to join the others. Elio noticed that many soldiers now wore their armor, a desperate attempt to feel safe in a world that had become even more dangerous.

Varick stood nearby, his arrogance replaced by quiet contemplation. For once, there was no rivalry between them. Shared grief had united them, if only temporarily.

His eyes constantly drifted towards two bodies in particular, wrapped in the same white shrouds as the rest, but meaning much more to him.

"Erin and Koda," Varick murmured, his voice barely audible. "They were... they were good soldiers."

Elio turned to him, surprised by the display of emotion. "You knew them well?"

Varick nodded slowly. "Trained them myself. They were... different. Always had a kind word, even when I was being a jerk. Said my teaching style was 'uniquely effective'."

He paused, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"I... Since childhood, I was told that no one outside the families mattered, that soldiers were there to be guided by us and that," he admitted quietly. "That they were expendable tools. But now..."

His voice trailed off, unable to continue. Elio felt a pang of empathy, recognizing the pain in Varick's eyes. It was the same pain he felt, the same guilt that gnawed at him inside.

Silence fell over them again, broken only by the muffled sobs of soldiers bidding farewell to their fallen comrades and friends.

The ceremony continued, a ritual manager stepped forward, his voice resonating in the silence. "Today we gather to honor our fallen as our Creator suggests. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten."

One by one, the bodies began to be lifted. Elio and his team joined the task, carrying the remains of their fallen comrades.

"Letting those insects devour them... Even the hole would be better. Why can't we burn them?" asked a young soldier, his voice broken with grief.

"They don't fit through the hole. Would you take charge of dismembering them?" Micah asked quietly. "And burning the bodies would eat our already scarce oxygen and release gasses that would contaminate."

Reality hit Elio anew. Even in death, they were bound by their world's cruel limitations.

As they carried the bodies towards the edge of the wall, Elio noticed the System books next to each fallen soldier.

They were open, their pages blank.

All the mana left in their balances had been expelled after their death, a final gift to the living.

"It's so little," Zara murmured, looking at the meager mana points left behind. "They barely had anything saved."

"Most of us live day to day, everything else is to support our families," Brok replied, his usual boisterousness subdued. "Not much room to save when every point counts for survival."

They reached the wall's edge. Beyond the ray barrier, the vast sea of monsters stretched as far as the eye could see. It was a terrifying sight, but today, even that paled in comparison to the pain of loss.

"With honor and gratitude, we return these bodies to the mana cycle from which we emerged," the manager intoned. "May God receive them and grant the rest they deserve."

One by one, the bodies were thrown beyond the wall. Elio watched as they fell, feeling a pang in his heart with each one. These weren't just soldiers; they were friends, comrades, family.

Silence reigned, broken only by occasional sobs. Even Varick, normally so vocal, kept a respectful silence.

When the last body was thrown, a sense of finality settled over everyone.

Elio looked at his team, seeing his own pain reflected. Kriz's jokes had died on his lips. Zara fought back tears. Ren trembled slightly. Brok seemed diminished by grief. Micah stood stoic, but his silence spoke volumes.

It was then that Marcus's laughter cut through the air like a knife, breaking the atmosphere of mourning.

"Well, well," he sneered. "What a touching scene. All this fuss over a few expendable soldiers?"

Elio felt anger igniting within him, but before he could react, Varick stepped forward.

"Shut it, Marcus," Varick growled, his tone dangerously low. "This is neither the time nor the place."

Marcus seemed surprised for a moment but quickly regained his arrogance. "Oh, now you defend the low rank trash, cousin? Gone soft, have we?"

"This isn't about status," Varick retorted, voice trembling with rage. "It's about basic human decency, about respect. Something you clearly lack."

Marcus laughed again. "Respect? For what? For a bunch of weaklings who couldn't survive? If they were worth anything, they'd still be breathing."

The silence that followed echoed with Marcus's words in Elio's head.

Elio felt something breaking inside him. All the sadness, all the guilt and grief transmuted into white-hot fury.

"Marcus," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Shut up."

But Marcus, oblivious to the danger, pressed on. "Aww, is the great Elio upset? Sad because your 'revolutionary' strategy turned out to be a dud?"

That was it.

"You wanted a duel, didn't you? Well, you'll have it. Here and now."

Marcus's surprise quickly gave way to arrogance. "Really? You think you can take me? Just what I wanted… Bring it on, peasant."