The stone shook under Aiden's boots as another chunk of the cathedral wall crumbled away. Dust and debris rained down while arrows whistled past and monstrous roars echoed from below.
The colossal entity—some twisted fusion of shadow and ancient hunger—slammed its massive limbs into the fortifications again.
Morten's suicide troops poured through the fresh gaps, screaming as they charged.
"Push them back!" Catherine shouted from the battlement. Her armor was cracked, blood streaked her thighs from earlier fighting, but she stood tall.
"Aiden, we can't hold this flank with half-measures. The legions on the left are screaming for your commitment."
Elizabeth's forces held their line but sent messenger after messenger demanding he come to her for the "proper stabilization." Fuck that.
Aiden gripped the parapet, power crackling through his veins—raw, unstable, Luciferian heat mixed with the fractures that kept spreading.
