Present time, Stoneford...

  Alph's lungs burned as he burst into the inner city perimeter, his boots skidding against polished cobblestones that marked the entrance to the noble district. The contrast between the shabby southern streets and this well-maintained area would have been stark under normal circumstances, but he barely registered the change.

  The monster's roar had carried even this far. The guard house already hummed with urgent activity—soldiers strapping on armor, checking weapons, officers barking orders as they organized a response to the distant but unmistakable sound of combat and carnage.

  Alph stumbled to a halt ten paces from the entrance, his chest heaving as he fought to draw enough breath to speak. When the words came, they tore from his throat raw and desperate.

  "Monster! Southern district! Old Amber Stone mine entrance!"

  Captain Hendricks emerged from the guard house, his movements showing the confident efficiency of someone who had fully recovered from his injuries. His stoic features creased into a deep frown as he processed Alph's shouted warning, connecting it instantly to the distant roar that had already put his men on alert.

  "Double time! Southern district, now!" Hendricks' command cut through the organized chaos, lending new urgency to the preparations.

  The captain strode toward Alph with quick, purposeful steps. His hand landed on the young conscript's shoulder with a reassuring weight, the gesture carrying both gratitude and dismissal.

  "You've done your part, lad. Rest. Let us take it from here."

  Alph stood there breathing hard, unable to form words through his exhaustion. His mind wasn't focused on the captain's words or the soldiers mobilizing around him. Instead, it replayed the last scene he'd witnessed before his flight—Sal bashing sword against shield to draw the monster's attention, the two young soldiers with trembling spears forming up despite their terror, Lukan's weathered face as he dragged Alph away toward safety.

  The screams. The roar. The wet sound of impact he'd heard just before rounding the corner.

  The guard force moved past him in disciplined ranks, boots striking the cobblestones in rhythm as they marched toward the southern district. Toward the same nightmare Alph had just fled.

  The sound of their departure snapped something into place in Alph's mind. His eyes, previously glazed with exhaustion and shock, suddenly blazed with fierce determination. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached, hands curling into fists at his sides.

  "Not this time," he muttered, the words barely audible even to himself. "I've had enough of sacrifices."

  He turned on his heel and broke into a run—not away from danger, but straight back toward it. His legs, which moments ago had felt like lead, found new strength as he raced back through the streets he'd just fled. Behind him, surprised shouts from the remaining guards went unheeded.

  The monster was still there. And this time, Alph wasn't running away.

  Back at the forest camp...

  The soldiers completed their return march without incident, the anticipated ambush never materializing. Formations dissolved as exhausted troops dispersed to their assigned areas, relief evident in their weary faces despite the lingering uncertainty about the Necromancer's disappearance.

  The Paladin squad broke away from the main column immediately, Draven gesturing for Abel and Seth to join them at a distance from the general troops. His words were brief and direct—Sheryl's vision, Stoneford under attack, Rhoghar already en route but likely insufficient alone.

  Abel and Seth absorbed the information with grim understanding. The bard's usual careful consideration vanished, replaced by urgent pragmatism. Commander Seth's weathered features hardened with decision.

  "Go," Seth commanded without hesitation. "Stoneford needs you more than we need protection from a Necromancer who's already fled."

  "The town's defense is skeletal with most forces deployed here," Abel added, his bardic mind already calculating the disaster unfolding. "Whatever's attacking won't face meaningful resistance without you."

  Neither officer wasted time debating whether necromancer might still be lurking in ambush. The immediate crisis took precedence over hypothetical threats.

  Draven brought his fist to his chest before extending it outward in the formal noble's salute—a gesture of respect between equals that acknowledged Seth and Abel's authority and sacrifice in allowing the Paladins to abandon their position.

  "The Light protects," Draven said simply.

  The Paladins moved with urgent efficiency. Sierra lifted the visibly drained Sheryl onto her own horse, the younger woman's exhaustion from channeling Starfall of Judgment evident in how she sagged against Sierra's supporting arm. The rest of the squad mounted their steeds with practiced speed—Draven, Sergio, Priest Ivan—each checking their weapons one final time. Overhead, a hawk's cry pierced the air—Beramund already departing,

  "Ride hard!" Draven commanded, and five horses surged forward as one, hooves thundering against packed earth as the Paladin squad raced toward Stoneford and whatever horror awaited them there.

  Back in Stoneford...

  By the time Alph and the town watch reached the southern district, flames had already consumed entire blocks. Fire spread from house to house with terrifying speed, the old wooden structures providing perfect fuel for the conflagration. Screams echoed through smoke-filled streets—desperate cries for help, wails of grief, the raw terror of civilians caught in a nightmare they couldn't comprehend.

  The evidence of the abomination's rampage littered the cobblestones. Bodies lay scattered in grotesque positions, their forms bearing wounds that spoke of overwhelming force and mindless brutality. Alph's stomach lurched at the sight, but he forced himself to keep moving, to stay focused on what could still be saved rather than what was already lost.

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  Captain Hendricks brought the column to a halt at the district's edge, his eyes taking in the devastation with a single sweeping glance. When his gaze found the abomination itself—still rampaging through the burning streets, its massive asymmetrical form silhouetted against the flames—his entire body went rigid. His knuckles whitened around the spear shaft, and for a moment, pure visceral horror crossed his weathered features.

  But the moment passed. Years of command experience reasserted themselves, pushing fear aside in favor of tactical necessity.

  "Rescue teams—spread out!" Hendricks' voice cut through the chaos with sharp authority. "Get the civilians clear! Bucket lines on the fires where possible! Move!"

  Half the town watch broke away immediately, rushing into the burning district to pull survivors from collapsing buildings and guide panicked civilians toward safety.

  Hendricks turned to his elite guard—the most experienced fighters in the town watch, veterans who'd faced corrupted beasts and bandit raids without flinching.

  "With me. We draw its attention away from the civilians. Keep it contained."

  The elite guards formed up around their captain, weapons ready, faces set with grim determination. Together, they advanced toward the behemoth, putting themselves directly between the monster and the fleeing innocents it had been pursuing.

  The abomination's red eyes fixed on this new threat, and it turned away from easy prey to face warriors who dared challenge it.

  Alph held position at the rear, his eyes rapidly scanning the burning district for tactical advantages. His gaze fixed on a house built on slightly elevated terrain—the angle would provide a perfect vantage point for ranged attacks while keeping him clear of the immediate melee.

  He broke into a sprint toward the structure, then launched himself at the wall. His boots found purchase on windowsills and protruding stones as he zigzagged between the neighboring buildings, using the narrow gap to climb higher with each leap. Within seconds, he pulled himself onto the roof, the clay tiles warm beneath his hands from the surrounding fires.

  His short bow came off his shoulder in one fluid motion. He nocked an arrow, drew the string back to his anchor point, and sighted down the shaft toward the abomination's exposed red eye. His breathing steadied, falling into the familiar rhythm of archery.

  Perfect Aim flowed through him, the advanced Hunter skill sharpening his perception and stabilizing his aim far beyond normal human capability. He released.

  Swoosh!

  The arrow flew true—until a fleshy tentacle erupted from the behemoth's corrupted hide, intercepting it mid-flight. The appendage dissolved back into the monster's body as quickly as it had appeared, the arrow clattering harmlessly to the cobblestones.

  Alph's eyes narrowed with cold analysis. The creature possessed automated defense mechanisms, its body responding to threats against vital areas without conscious direction. A straightforward kill shot wouldn't work.

  His Slayer perception had already marked the target, Marked for Death revealing the critical points where a lethal blow could be delivered. The heart—or what passed for one in this twisted form—pulsed within the creature's chest. But the entire area was encased in thick layers of black blight, the corruption forming a protective shell over the organ that sustained this abomination.

  The solution presented itself. Strip away the blight first, then strike the exposed vital beneath. Easier said than done though.

  Fortunately, Captain Hendricks had reached the same conclusion during his engagement with the behemoth. The blight coating acted as both armor and regeneration source—any wound inflicted on the monster's flesh simply filled with more corruption. Breaking through required a different approach.

  "Perimeter guards!" Hendricks bellowed between parries, his spear deflecting a sweeping blow from the creature's massive arm. "Search the houses! Bring oil, alcohol, anything that burns! Let's ignite this bastard!"

  The guards maintaining the outer cordon broke away immediately, rushing into nearby structures. Within minutes, they emerged carrying clay vats of cooking oil, bottles of cheap spirits, anything flammable they could scavenge from the abandoned homes.

  Alph watched the preparations unfold while nocking another arrow. His current arsenal wasn't strong enough to bring down something this massive—he knew that much. But he could still disrupt its attacks, buy Hendricks and his guards precious seconds. He drew and released, the arrow striking the behemoth's shoulder and forcing it to shift its attention for a heartbeat.

  The guards assembled with their makeshift incendiaries, awaiting their captain's signal.

  Alph's eyes continued scanning for advantages, for anything that could tip the scales. His gaze caught on the structure rising near the southern wall—the municipal tower, built for emergency signals and defense coordination. The high vantage point, the bell mechanism, the heavy construction...

  A plan formed instantly.

  "Captain Hendricks!" Alph's shout cut through the chaos. "Draw it toward the walls!"

  Hendricks' head snapped toward the voice, immediately recognizing the runner who'd brought the warning. His eyes tracked Alph's movement—the young man already leaping from rooftop to rooftop, moving with surprising agility toward the wall section.

  Understanding dawned on Hendricks' weathered features. His eyes gleamed with recognition as he realized what structure lay in that direction—and what devastating potential it offered if used correctly.

  Hendricks didn't hesitate. His spear swept in a wide arc, driving the behemoth's attention toward him as he began a controlled retreat.

  "Fall back toward the wall! Keep it focused on us!" His elite guards moved in coordination, weapons striking and withdrawing in rhythm, each blow designed to provoke rather than injure. The monster followed, its massive form crushing debris underfoot as it pursued the retreating warriors.

  Alph had already reached the wall section, finding the small wooden door set into the base of the municipal tower. He yanked it open and took the stairs two at a time, his boots echoing in the narrow stone shaft. The climb seemed to take forever, each step bringing him higher above the burning district.

  He burst onto the tower platform, immediately glancing back to confirm Hendricks had understood. Below, the captain and his guards were executing a fighting retreat, drawing the abomination exactly where it needed to be.

  Alph spun toward the contraption mounted on the battlements—a siege crossbow, its heavy frame bolted to the stone, the massive bow arms stretched outward over the exterior wall. Built to repel attacks from outside the city, not threats within.

  He rushed to the weapon's base, his hands running over the mounting mechanism. The crossbow was fixed in place, angled outward with no mechanism to rotate it inward. It would never turn to face the town on its own.

  His jaw set with determination. If it wouldn't turn, he'd force it.

  Alph gripped the crossbow's heavy frame and channeled every ounce of his enhanced strength into lifting it. The mounting bolts groaned in protest, metal scraping against stone as he began forcing the entire assembly off its base.

  "What in the hells are you doing?!"

  An old soldier burst from the tower's interior room, his face showing confusion and alarm at finding someone manhandling the siege equipment.

  "Bring me the ammunition bolts!" Alph barked through gritted teeth, his muscles straining against the crossbow's weight. "NOW!"

  The soldier's eyes widened, but his confusion lasted only a heartbeat. He'd stayed behind while the rest of the garrison deployed, hearing the distant roars and knowing something terrible had struck the town. His gaze shifted toward the town-side of the wall.

  He recoiled at what he saw—the massive abomination being methodically herded by town watch, drawing closer to the wall with each passing moment.

  "The bolts!" Alph's voice cracked with strain. "Move!"

  The old soldier snapped into action, spinning on his heel and running toward the storage alcove where the siege ammunition was kept.