*****
More than half of the Crimson Hunt soldiers had abandoned their posts in the yard and rushed to the north wall of the academy. The air trembled with the sounds of steel against steel, cries of war, and the thunderous crash of stone breaking.
A small army had forced its way in through the northern defenses, led by Astrid Voss, Magnus Thorn and Alistair Ashthorne. No one knew how they had discovered the flaw in the northern wall, but it was the only section of the academy's fortress that could be exploited with enough brute force. Now, the weakness had been split open, and blood was pouring into it.
The Crimson Hunt soldiers swarmed in response, but Astrid and Magnus carved through them like wolves among sheep. Astrid's blades flashed in the dimming light, her movements precise and merciless, her strikes leaving corpses in her wake. She moved with the discipline of a trained assassin, but her rage made her all the more lethal.
