The night air tore past Grom's beard as his boots slammed against the rooftops, each step cracking stone beneath his weight. The city lights of Stren blurred into streaks as he surged forward, rage rolling off him in heavy waves.
The masked warrior ahead twisted mid-run, narrowly dodging the hammer Grom had hurled.
Too slow.
Grom's gauntleted hand clenched.
The hammer shuddered in the air, runes flaring as it snapped back toward him like a living thing. On its return arc, it smashed straight into the second masked warrior's chest with a bone-crushing impact.
The man flew forward, skidding across the rooftop before slamming into a ventilation tower and going limp.
Grom didn't even slow.
He caught the hammer cleanly, momentum never breaking, then reached down mid-stride and seized the fallen assassin by the throat. The dwarf lifted him one-handed, feet dangling uselessly as Grom continued running after the remaining target.
