[center][h1][color=silver]Lucas[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr][hr]
Lucas can't stop himself from screaming aloud in rage and sorrow as he realises, even this final stand was nothing but another failure, another trap where the demons somehow knew their every move.  
He can't help but turn and look as the Demon King appears, some small part at the back of his mind even wonders just where it had come from so suddenly, but with great effort he turns his back on the thing, and on his father. The demons have not let up their relentless assault on the retreating army, if anything the presence of their king seems to push them harder, difficult as it is to believe such is possible. 
Lucas plants his feet on the bloody ground, rouses his strained aura once more and stares down the approaching horde, time to see how much time he can buy this retreat with his life. For once he's grateful for the reduced field of view his helmet grants, it makes it easier to focus only on the demons ahead.

His poleaxe barely stops between swings, the enemies are more varied now, but they die all the same, decapitate a lizard, aura boosted strength drivine steel cleanly through scales and bone, drive the butt through the heart of a goblin that's not quite dead before it goes for his legs.  
He feels the strain in his muscles, the ache in his bones as they struggle to keep up, it's getting harder to avoid the demon's attacks now and his bruised arm can barely maintain a proper grip.  
A goblin evades his thrust and strikes the back of his knee and he buckles, barely able to get the haft of his weapon between him and a lizards club. He fights as best he can from this new, worse postion, but that only buys him seconds, he can't move well enough to stop a shortsword from piercing his side, slipped through the gap where the front and back plates meet, and finally he falls to the ground.  
He's not quite dead, though he can feel the warmth of the blood pooling beneath him, so that's going to change soon, still the demons don't seem to notice, or perhaps simply don't care. It takes all his strength to move his head slightly, to let him see the battle behind him.