Raphael wanted to, he really did but he was running on empty as it was. He was in pain, he has bruises and sores for the first time. He even had a headache. He knew his grace was dwindling and with every shot he took, Raphael lost more of himself.

He lowered his head, as if to appeal for mercy, hoping that he could somehow get through this.

"I-I ... can't." Can't wasn't a word that Lazar accepted but he had to try and explain. "I'm so tired, master. I gave last week..."