Ryn's eyes tracked the towering stone around him.

"…Why hide with such defenses?" he muttered under his breath.

The walls were massive. Thick slabs of carved rock stood tall and mighty, reinforced with steel. They weren't crude either, every surface was deliberate and made to last.

So why were the dwarves retreating?

The answer came to him a heartbeat later, clear enough to make his stomach sink.

Dwarves, as a race, were builders. They trained their Essence to create, to refine, unlike humans who trained theirs for destruction.

Ryn's gaze lifted instinctively, scanning the upper edges of the walls. He searched for the things that should have been there.

Even anything remotely close to resembling siege weapons, anything at all to defend themselves against the threat.

It should've been there—ballistas, cannons, catapults, just anything meant to repel the horde trying to bust in.

"Aye, it's one of our smaller cities."

Hadrik's voice crept into his mind.

"…Shit," Ryn muttered. "So small cities really don't get anything from the capital…"

His thoughts were stopped immediately by a sudden banging. Ryn turned toward the source.

The northern wall shuddered as something slammed into it from the outside. Dust spilled from the seams, thin at first but gradually poured like a waterfall as cracks got bigger.

Whatever was out there wasn't testing the wall's durability.

It was trying to get through.

Ryn took a step forward, then stopped himself.

What kind of monster?

The single question was enough to make him hesitate. Especially since Amelia was injured and they were in a foreign land…no time to play hero.

Ryn spun on his heel and broke into a run back toward the direction of the inn.

His footsteps echoed through the narrow alley as he cut through the empty streets. Behind him, the impact intensified. The sound of stone failing blasted across the city like thunder trapped underground.

Then it happened.

A deafening crack split the air.

Ryn glanced back just in time to see part of the wall give way, stone collapsing outward as a dark shape burst through the breach.

No, multiple shapes.

They moved low and fast, bodies bulging with blackened veins that pulsed faintly beneath their fur.

Ryn recognized them instantly.

"…Corrupted panthers," he muttered.

He'd fought them dozens of times. They were simple monsters, usually sent out as reinforcements along with chimeras.

But…what were they doing here?

Nonetheless, Ryn didn't stop running.

There were too many.

And if these were already inside the city, then fighting them here–now, meant drawing attention he couldn't afford.

Ryn forced himself to look away and kept running.

The only thing that mattered was getting back to Amelia before they collapsed around them both.

They were faster than he expected.

Footsteps scraped against stone behind him, claws biting into the ground as panthers poured through the broken wall. Their bodies were weirdly jointed, allowing each leap to stretch farther than it ever should've had.

Ryn swore under his breath and cut hard into the nearest alley.

Space narrowed instantly, even for a dwarven-made alley way, this would be considered tiny.

He vaulted a wooden cart without breaking momentum, boots leaving indents on the ground as he landed.

A shadow crossed his path.

Ryn twisted just as one of them lunged, black-veined jaws snapping where his throat had been just a second earlier.

Snow was already in his hand.

The blade flashed once across its chest. Icicles bloomed from the cut, detonating a heartbeat later and flinging the panther back into the alley wall, lifeless.

Another came from the side.

Ryn ducked, felt claws rake the air above his head, and slashed backward without looking. It caught flesh as the next panther screeched and collapsed, black ichor splattering stone.

Two down.

Too many left.

They adapted quickly, forcing him to cut across an intersecting street and veer in another direction. At this point, Ryn just had to hope the inn was close enough.

The alley spat him back onto the main way.

The street opened wide, stone pavement slick as rain started to fall upon the small city.

And ahead, he barely saw it, the inn's empty sign.

Its door was barely open.

The innkeeper stood framed in the doorway, arm raised, face pale as he waved frantically.

"Here!" he shouted. "Hurry!"

Ryn pushed harder, lungs burning as he tore down the street.

Behind him, the panthers surged.

Claws scraped against stone, close enough that he could feel their breath at his back.

He skidded to a halt just short of the doorway, boots screeching as he twisted sideways.

A shadow sailed past where he'd been.

The last panther lunged, jaws wide, as it aimed for his left shoulder.

Ryn moved on instinct, using the open doorframe as a lever to twist his body sideways.

The panther flew past him, eyes wide in confusion before he drove Snow right through the monster's skull, shattering bone instantly.

The panther went limp midair and collapsed in a heap at his feet.

Ryn yanked the blade free and turned.

"Inside!" the innkeeper barked.

Ryn lunged through the doorway as the man slammed it shut behind him, heavy bolts sliding home with an echoing clack.

The sound of claws scraped uselessly against the other side.

Ryn leaned against the door for half a second, chest heaving.

Then he was already moving again.

"Amelia," he said—and ran upstairs.

Ryn took the stairs two at a time.

The door to the room was already open.

Amelia was sitting upright on the bed, blanket pushed aside, one hand braced against the mattress.

"You ran," she said the moment she saw him. "What's going on?"

Ryn crossed the room in three strides. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she answered immediately. "What—"

The building shook, just enough to rattle the shutters and send dust drifting from the ceiling.

Amelia went still.

Ryn moved to the window and looked out.

The street below was chaos. Black shapes stirred in the fog, so quick that they looked more like shadows to the normal human eye.

They really were Evernight beasts.

Real ones.

Amelia stepped up beside him.

She followed his gaze—and gasped.

Ryn was already turning back to her. "Don't look too long."

Footsteps thundered in the hallway.

The innkeeper appeared in the doorway, breathless, eyes wide but focused.

"Basement," he said sharply. "Now. It's reinforced."

Amelia hesitated only a second before nodding.

Ryn didn't give her time to argue.

He scooped her up in one motion, arms firm beneath her knees and back. She startled, then instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck.

"Ryn—"

"Later," he said, already moving.

They rushed down the stairs as another distant impact reverberated through the city.

At the basement door, Ryn paused.

Just for a heartbeat.

He looked back toward the entrance door, toward the rest of the city that was hiding.

Then turned away and took the steps down.

Toward the undercity of Moran.

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