The Alpha lay in a broken heap, its once-bright eyes dimming to pale embers. Caleb's arms shook from exhaustion, his shirt ripped, his chest heaving like he'd never breathe evenly again. Gorrin stood nearby, one knee bent, his axe dripping black ichor that hissed where it touched the stone. For a fleeting moment, silence hung in the cavern, the oppressive kind that felt like the world itself was pausing to acknowledge what had just been done.
Then came the growls.
Dozens of eyes opened in the shadows. Red and glinting, circling. From the cracks in the cavern walls and the dark tunnels above, more Cragfangs slithered and crawled into view. Smaller than their Alpha, yes—but fast, vicious, and hungry. The smell of blood had drawn them.
Caleb staggered back a step, raising the makeshift spear he'd formed with the Riftbone. His knuckles were white around the shaft. "You've got to be kidding me. How many of them are there?"
Gorrin spat to the side, eyes narrowing. "Too many. They must have followed the Alpha's scent trail. We need to carve through before they surround us completely."
The first Cragfang lunged, claws flashing. Caleb met it midair, driving his spear through its chest. Riftenergy flared along the weapon, solidifying just enough to pierce hide and bone. The beast shrieked, convulsing before falling limp.
But three more took its place.
"They're not stopping," Caleb muttered, sweat running down his face. "We'll get torn apart at this rate."
"That's why you don't fight the pack head-on," Gorrin said, sweeping his axe in a wide arc that smashed through two skulls at once. "You cut their numbers, move toward the narrow paths, and choke their speed. Follow me, boy!"
The two of them fought shoulder to shoulder, Gorrin's seasoned strikes clearing space, Caleb's desperate thrusts and bursts of Riftenergy stabbing into any opening he saw. Caleb's legs burned, and his arms felt heavier with each swing. Yet something inside him refused to falter. Each time he thought he'd collapse, the memory of the Alpha's roar, the sight of Eastend's burning streets, surged into his mind. And with it, strength.
Still, the pack pressed. Ten became fifteen. Fifteen became twenty. The cavern rang with snarls, claws on stone, and the wet crack of bones breaking.
"Gorrin!" Caleb shouted as a Cragfang leapt at the older man's blind side.
Caleb didn't think. He pushed forward, shoving Riftenergy into his palm until it sparked like a blazing shard. He slammed it into the beast midair, the impact shattering its ribcage and sending it tumbling into two more behind it. His chest ached, his head spun, but he managed to stay upright.
Gorrin barked a laugh, even as he cut another down. "Good! That's it! Don't hold back. Let it flow! Make them regret surrounding us."
Caleb couldn't tell if it was encouragement or madness, but he kept fighting. He had to, or else his flesh would grace the fangs of the monsters attacking them.