Eis did not hesitate.

  The moment the buyer stepped beside the plinth, she exhaled slowly, lowered her stance, and brought the crossbow up with quiet, lethal precision. The runic channels on his gloves glimmered faintly in the lanternlight—clear confirmation he was the one meant to handle the relic.

  Her finger tightened.

  The bolt whispered through the chamber.

  It struck the buyer cleanly through the skull. His body folded without drama, the light leaving his eyes before he hit the floor. The relic on the plinth gave a sudden, dissonant hum—like a chime struck too sharply—its glow flickering in response.

  Even as the corpse sagged, Eis was already moving.

  She closed the distance to the nearest guard before he had time to fully turn. Surprise froze his features; his mouth opened to shout.

  Too late.

  Her knife flashed—a single clean motion, honed by years of surviving a world that punished hesitation. The blade slid beneath his jaw, and the man collapsed in a jerking breath, dead before the sound finished echoing.

  Then the world erupted.

  The remaining guard spun and yelled, eyes blazing with fury and fear, drawing steel in a frantic arc. Behind him, deeper in the tunnel, footsteps pounded closer—multiple sets. Her earlier ten-heartbeat delay had bought her time, but not much.

  The captive knelt in the center of the chamber, chains rattling as she struggled upright. Her eyes darted wildly from the fallen men to Eis, terror flickering with hope.

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  The stone vault trembled with voices.

  The rescue window was shrinking.

  The relic hummed—stronger now, as if responding to the blood on the floor. Eis felt its presence pressing against her mind.

  But the living threat took priority.

  Eis moved before another shout had fully formed in the guard’s throat.

  Her hand dipped into her pouch, fingers brushing over sigils until she found the one she needed—a card marked with the rune for terra. She flicked it forward, voice low, steady:

  “Earth wall.”

  The card ignited.

  A rush of burnt-orange light burst outward and dissolved into dust that skated across the stone floor. A deep vibration rippled through the chamber. The ground heaved once—

  —and a jagged wall of stone erupted across the tunnel entrance, sealing it completely.

  The footsteps on the other side halted abruptly, replaced by muffled shouting and fists hammering against the barrier. Pebbles rained from the ceiling as the new wall settled into place.

  The chamber belonged to Eis again.

  The last guard roared and charged.

  His sword cut a brutal arc toward her ribs. Eis pivoted aside, the blade missing her by inches. Her cloak snapped in the air behind her as she slid into his blind angle.

  He spun and slashed again—wild, desperate.

  She parried with the hardened plate of her armguard, redirecting the blow. Sparks spat off metal. Before he recovered, she stepped inward and drove her knife between the plates of his armor, right under the arm.

  A strangled grunt escaped him. He stumbled, dropped his sword, and reached for her out of sheer instinct.

  She caught his wrist, twisted sharply, and delivered the killing thrust between his ribs.

  He exhaled once. Then collapsed.

  Silence swallowed the chamber, disturbed only by the distant, futile pounding on the stone wall.

  Eis wiped her blade on the fallen guard’s cloak and straightened, scanning the room.

  The captive stared at her from the floor—wide-eyed, trembling, but alive. Her wrists were raw where the manacles had bitten into her skin.

  On the plinth, the relic’s box glowed faintly. Its runes flickered erratically, reacting to the chaos—or to her.