The night the monsters came again began quietly.

  Too quietly.

  Vale woke before the alarm horns sounded.

  For a moment, he didn’t know why. Darkness filled the warehouse shelter, refugees sleeping in exhausted silence around him. Fires had burned low hours earlier, leaving only faint embers and the sound of distant wind threading through broken shutters.

  Then he realized what was wrong.

  No patrol horns.

  No distant shouting.

  No movement beyond the walls.

  The city felt…

  Empty.

  His instincts twisted.

  Predators went silent before striking.

  He sat up slowly, ribs protesting. Protector Authority stirred faintly beneath his skin, responding to unease before his mind caught up. He swung his feet onto the cold floor and stood, listening.

  Nothing.

  That was worse than noise.

  He grabbed his coat and moved toward the exit.

  Outside, District Seven lay under thin moonlight. Refugee fires had died, guards leaned sleepily against barricades, and even the usual night arguments were absent.

  Vale frowned.

  Then—

  A distant scream cut through the night.

  Not from within the district.

  From the walls.

  His head snapped toward the sound.

  A horn blared.

  Another answered.

  Then dozens erupted at once.

  Alarm.

  Real alarm.

  Shouting spread instantly.

  Soldiers sprinted through streets.

  “TO THE WALLS!”

  “MONSTERS!”

  “EVERYONE INSIDE!”

  Panic exploded across the district as civilians woke in confusion. Families scrambled to gather children, hunters grabbed weapons, and soldiers forced crowds away from open streets.

  Vale cursed and started running.

  Behind him, Lyn burst from the shelter, hair disheveled and eyes wide.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Attack.”

  She sprinted after him.

  “But monsters don’t attack at night anymore!”

  Vale’s jaw tightened.

  “They do when they’re confident.”

  Another horn blast echoed, closer now.

  Then something massive roared beyond the walls.

  And the city woke fully to terror.

  They reached the eastern wall as chaos erupted.

  Torches flared along battlements. Archers scrambled into position while soldiers dragged ballistae into firing alignment. Officers shouted orders as civilians were forced back from gates.

  Vale pushed through the soldiers climbing the ramparts.

  The scene beyond froze him for a moment.

  The plains burned.

  Hundreds of torches moved in coordinated patterns across the darkness. Between them surged monsters—wolf packs, crawler beasts, massive armored creatures lumbering forward in terrifying unity.

  Not a raid.

  An army.

  Lyn reached the wall beside him and gasped.

  “…That’s not possible.”

  Vale exhaled slowly.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Because the hunter learned.

  Below, siege beasts advanced toward walls—massive creatures with thick skull plating evolved specifically to smash defenses. Flying predators circled overhead in disciplined formations.

  Archers fired.

  Arrows rained down.

  But monsters didn’t scatter.

  They advanced.

  Organized.

  An officer shouted:

  “They’re targeting towers!”

  Vale followed his gaze.

  Flying creatures dove in unison toward outer watchtowers.

  Explosions of fire and shattered wood erupted as monsters smashed into structures.

  One tower collapsed entirely.

  Soldiers screamed as debris fell.

  Lyn whispered:

  “They’re dismantling defenses.”

  Vale nodded grimly.

  “Testing weak points.”

  No.

  Not testing.

  Exploiting.

  Another roar echoed across the field.

  Something enormous moved beyond torchlight.

  The hunter.

  Watching.

  Directing.

  Waiting.

  Vale clenched his fists.

  This wasn’t random aggression.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  It was strategy.

  The hunter wasn’t attacking yet.

  It was forcing the city to fight.

  Exhaust.

  Adapt.

  Reveal weaknesses.

  Then strike.

  A soldier nearby shouted:

  “BREACH ATTEMPT SOUTH WALL!”

  Vale spun.

  More horns blared.

  Monsters surged toward another section of wall.

  Multiple attacks.

  Simultaneous.

  The city scrambled.

  Lyn grabbed his arm.

  “They’re splitting defenses.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where do we go?”

  Vale scanned chaos.

  Everywhere needed help.

  But one place mattered most.

  “South wall.”

  They ran.

  The southern wall was already in flames.

  A siege beast slammed into the gate, its skull plated in hardened bone. Each impact shook stone beneath their feet.

  Soldiers desperately reinforced barricades behind the gate while archers fired point-blank at the creature.

  Arrows bounced off thick hide.

  A captain shouted:

  “Hold the line!”

  Vale sprinted forward.

  Another impact.

  Wood splintered.

  Metal bent.

  The gate would not hold long.

  Lyn yelled:

  “What do we do?!”

  Vale exhaled slowly.

  Protector Authority surged.

  He leapt from the wall.

  Soldiers shouted in shock as he dropped outside the gates.

  He landed hard before the siege beast, Authority cushioning impact.

  The creature turned.

  Massive.

  Twice his height.

  Eyes burned with animal rage.

  Behind it, dozens of predators surged forward.

  Vale stepped toward them.

  Authority pressure expanded outward.

  Creatures hesitated.

  Predator instincts confused.

  Prey didn’t advance alone.

  He roared:

  “BACK!”

  Invisible force rolled outward.

  Smaller predators faltered.

  But the siege beast charged.

  Vale met it head-on.

  Impact shattered ground.

  Pain exploded through his arms as Authority absorbed force barely enough. He slid backward across dirt, boots carving trenches.

  Behind him, soldiers shouted from the wall.

  The beast roared again, preparing another charge.

  Vale clenched his teeth.

  If this gate fell—

  District Seven died first.

  He drove forward, Authority reinforcing his strike as his fist slammed into the beast’s skull.

  Bone cracked.

  Not broken.

  But enough.

  The creature staggered.

  Archers seized the opportunity.

  Ballista bolts fired from above.

  One pierced the beast’s shoulder.

  Another struck its neck.

  The creature collapsed with a final roar.

  Predators hesitated.

  Then retreated slightly.

  Vale breathed heavily.

  Behind him, soldiers erupted in cheers.

  Too soon.

  Because horns sounded again.

  North wall.

  West wall.

  Multiple attacks.

  This wasn’t the main assault.

  It was pressure.

  Constant.

  Unrelenting.

  The hunter wore them down.

  Vale climbed back atop the wall.

  Lyn stared at him.

  “You’re insane.”

  “Probably.”

  He scanned burning plains again.

  Monsters still attacked in coordinated waves.

  Flying predators destroyed supply towers.

  Crawler beasts undermined outer defenses.

  Each wave tested new tactics.

  Learning.

  Adapting.

  A soldier shouted:

  “They’re hitting the western food depots!”

  Vale’s stomach dropped.

  Of course.

  Starve prey.

  Then kill it.

  He turned to Lyn.

  “Stay behind the wall.”

  She glared.

  “Not happening.”

  Too late to argue.

  They ran again.

  The western district burned.

  Flying predators swooped between buildings, igniting fires with alchemical sacs strapped to their bodies. Civilians fled as soldiers tried desperately to extinguish flames while fighting monsters simultaneously.

  Vale crashed into the street as a predator dove toward fleeing civilians.

  He intercepted mid-air, slamming the creature into a stone wall. Bones shattered under Authority-enhanced force.

  More descended.

  Dozens.

  Lyn dragged civilians into cover while soldiers fought desperately.

  Vale moved through chaos, breaking creatures mid-flight, intercepting attacks before they reached fleeing crowds.

  But numbers mattered.

  Everywhere he looked—

  Monsters.

  Fires.

  Screaming.

  And soldiers stretched thin.

  A captain grabbed Vale’s arm.

  “We can’t hold everywhere!”

  Vale nodded grimly.

  “I know.”

  Because that was the point.

  Exhaust defenders.

  Spread panic.

  Reveal weaknesses.

  Behind smoke and chaos—

  Something massive moved again beyond the walls.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  Because tonight wasn’t meant to win.

  It was meant to prepare.

  And Vale realized—

  This was only the beginning.

  The hunter was teaching its army how to kill cities.

  And the city—

  The fires spread faster than the soldiers could contain them.

  Vale barely had time to catch his breath before another scream tore through the western district. Burning debris collapsed from rooftops as flying predators continued their bombing runs, dropping volatile sacs that burst into sticky flame upon impact.

  The monsters weren’t trying to breach here.

  They were trying to burn.

  Smoke rolled thick through narrow streets, choking civilians as soldiers struggled to escort people away from spreading infernos. Panic fractured discipline; families ran in every direction, clogging evacuation routes.

  Vale shoved through chaos, grabbing a fallen beam and hurling it aside to free trapped civilians.

  “THIS WAY!” Lyn shouted, guiding people toward stone-lined alleys where fire struggled to spread.

  A woman stumbled carrying a child, smoke stinging her eyes. A predator dove toward them.

  Vale moved on instinct.

  Authority surged, and he intercepted the creature midair, his shoulder slamming into its ribcage. Both crashed into the street, stone cracking beneath the impact. He twisted, snapping its neck before it recovered.

  Behind him, another shriek sounded.

  Too many.

  They kept coming.

  A soldier coughed violently beside him.

  “We can’t see!”

  Smoke thickened until visibility dropped to a few meters. Flying predators used the cover, diving suddenly through clouds of ash before soldiers could react.

  Vale gritted his teeth.

  This was deliberate.

  The hunter forced defenders to fight blind.

  A ballista bolt roared overhead, skewering two flying beasts at once. Cheers erupted briefly from soldiers positioned on nearby rooftops.

  Then another explosion rocked the street.

  Vale spun.

  A supply warehouse roof collapsed inward, flames roaring higher. Civilians trapped inside screamed.

  Lyn’s face went pale.

  “There are people in there!”

  Vale ran.

  He kicked the shattered door inward, heat blasting him in the face. Smoke stung his eyes as shelves collapsed inside. Civilians huddled near the rear, trapped by fallen debris.

  Protector Authority flared instinctively.

  Pressure rolled outward, stabilizing collapsing beams long enough for him to lift them aside.

  “Move!” he shouted.

  People stumbled past, coughing, eyes streaming.

  A beam cracked overhead.

  Vale shoved the last civilian out—

  —and the ceiling collapsed behind him.

  Flames surged.

  Debris buried him in burning rubble.

  Outside, Lyn screamed his name.

  For a moment, darkness swallowed everything.

  Then Authority surged violently, shoving debris outward as Vale forced himself free. He staggered from the burning warehouse, clothes singed, lungs burning from smoke.

  Soldiers stared in disbelief.

  Lyn ran to him.

  “You idiot!”

  Vale coughed violently.

  “Everyone out?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Good.

  Another roar echoed across the city.

  Deeper.

  Louder.

  Vale’s blood ran cold.

  Not another siege beast.

  Something worse.

  He climbed atop a fallen cart for visibility.

  And saw it.

  Across the walls, in the distant darkness—

  The hunter moved.

  Not attacking.

  Watching.

  Its massive silhouette shifted among trees, barely visible in flickering firelight. Even at this distance, Vale felt its attention like weight pressing against his skull.

  It observed.

  Measured.

  Evaluated.

  Then slowly retreated deeper into the forest.

  The attacks intensified immediately.

  Vale cursed softly.

  “Of course.”

  Lyn blinked.

  “What?”

  “It got what it wanted.”

  Behind them, horns sounded again.

  North wall breached.

  Vale’s heart skipped.

  “They broke through?”

  A soldier sprinted past, shouting:

  “MONSTERS INSIDE THE OUTER DISTRICT!”

  Panic spread instantly.

  Lyn grabbed Vale’s sleeve.

  “That’s close to us!”

  Vale nodded grimly.

  “Move.”

  The northern outer district lay in chaos.

  Outer barricades had collapsed under repeated siege beast charges. Monsters poured through the gap, overwhelming exhausted defenders.

  Soldiers fought desperately street by street.

  Vale arrived as a crawler beast tore through a barricade, scattering civilians.

  He charged.

  Authority-enhanced momentum carried him into the creature, slamming it into the ground. Bone shattered under his strike.

  But behind it—

  Dozens more surged through.

  Soldiers yelled:

  “FALL BACK!”

  Civilians fled.

  Too slow.

  Vale planted his feet.

  Authority expanded outward again.

  Pressure wave forced monsters back momentarily.

  “GET THEM OUT!” he roared.

  Soldiers seized the chance, dragging civilians away.

  But Vale felt Authority straining.

  Too many uses tonight.

  Too much force.

  His body trembled.

  Lyn appeared beside him, helping wounded soldiers retreat.

  “You’re slowing down.”

  “I know.”

  Monsters regrouped quickly.

  Adapted.

  One lunged.

  Vale blocked, but impact drove him back this time. Pain flared through his ribs.

  He staggered.

  A soldier screamed as claws tore through his armor.

  Vale moved again, killing the creature, but exhaustion slowed him.

  Another predator nearly reached fleeing civilians—

  Then a massive golden hammer smashed it aside.

  The Iron Crown warrior roared:

  “Thought you’d need help!”

  Vale exhaled.

  “Good timing.”

  Behind him, wind surged violently as the Freewind Authority wielder descended, slicing through flying predators.

  Lyn blinked.

  “Wait… they’re cooperating?”

  Vale almost smiled.

  “Miracles happen.”

  Authority users fought side by side now.

  Military and rebels united by survival.

  Monsters faltered under combined resistance.

  Ballista fire rained down again.

  Siege beasts collapsed under concentrated attacks.

  Slowly—

  The tide shifted.

  Monsters began retreating.

  Howls echoed as predator packs withdrew.

  Flying creatures scattered.

  Silence slowly returned.

  Fires still burned.

  But attacks stopped.

  Vale leaned against a broken wall, breathing heavily.

  Soldiers cheered weakly.

  Civilians cried in relief.

  But Vale didn’t celebrate.

  Because he understood.

  This wasn’t defeat.

  This was reconnaissance.

  Beside him, Wind Authority wiped blood from her face.

  “That was coordinated.”

  Vale nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Iron Crown warrior frowned.

  “They didn’t even try to break through fully.”

  “Because they didn’t need to.”

  Silence stretched.

  Lyn looked between them.

  “Then what was the point?”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “To see how we fight.”

  And now—

  The hunter knew.

  Which walls were weakest.

  How defenders responded.

  Where panic spread fastest.

  Which Authority users mattered most.

  Vale looked toward the distant forest again.

  Nothing visible now.

  But he felt it.

  Satisfaction.

  Tonight’s lesson learned.

  The real attack would come later.

  And next time—

  The hunter would strike to kill.

  Behind him, the city celebrated survival.

  But Vale only felt dread.

  Because survival tonight meant a harder fight tomorrow.

  And tomorrow—

  They might not survive again.