The chase didn't stop. Of course it didn't. Things like this never stopped until you were either bleeding out on the ground or too exhausted to care.
The sky above had already gone black, smoke choking out every star. Ash cut down another one of the stone freaks that lunged in front of them, his blade taking its head clean off. It didn't matter. The thing just kept sprinting headless, jagged arms reaching like it hadn't noticed it was missing something important.
Ash could've left Max behind and been at the gates by now, but that wasn't happening. He matched his speed to Max's, even though the gap between them was ridiculous. Ash was a tier five vessel. Max was a tier two — the family's unlucky draw.
Didn't mean Max was useless. Ty had the muscles, Max had the brains, and Ash… well, Ash had just enough of both to get stuck cleaning up their messes.
He stayed close, cutting down anything that got too close. Shards cracked away, arms broke, torsos split, but none of them cared. They dragged themselves forward anyway, pieces missing, like the idea of stopping wasn't in their vocabulary.
Then the roars came again. Deeper. Closer. He risked a look back and saw them — bigger versions, maybe fifty of them, moving through the smoke like statues with too many mouths.
"Fantastic," Ash muttered, gritting his teeth.
Max was starting to slow. Ash didn't think; he scooped him up like some storybook princess and bolted. He didn't bother slashing anymore. There were too many. Dodging was faster.
The gate wasn't far now. That massive, cracked thing, ancient and eerie, rising out of the mist like the entrance to somewhere no sane person wanted to walk into. A castle, or at least what looked like one. The kind of structure that screamed wrong before you even stepped inside.
Too many closing in. No time. Ash activated one of his soul skill, something he almost never touched.
"[Skill: Storm Vein]," the air whispered in his own voice.
His world slowed to half-speed. Every movement stretched out, sluggish and easy to read. Dodging was simple now, even with Max in his arms. He sprinted, weaving through the swarm until the gates loomed over them like the jaws of something patient.
Then Max squeezed his hand. The signal. Stop.
Ash dropped the skill. Sound came back, sharp and heavy, and with it came something else.
The creatures weren't chasing anymore.
They were waiting.
Ash turned. And there they stood —hundreds of them, a wall of broken statues locked in perfect stillness. Some were missing arms. Some had their heads caved in. Some twitched as if remembering how to move, then froze again. Their mouths hung open, rows of jagged teeth jutting out like rusted blades.
Not advancing. Not even breathing. Just staring.
The air felt crowded, suffocating. The silence pressed harder than their roars ever had. An army carved from nightmares, lined up in ranks, as though some invisible general had raised a hand and told them to hold.
Ash's stomach sank. It wasn't relief. Relief would've been them charging. This was worse.
He realized, with a sick certainty, that all those empty sockets and jagged mouths weren't staring at them. Not exactly. They were staring past him. Past Max. At the castle.
As if even monsters knew better than to walk closer.
His skin crawled.
Max's grip tightened until it hurt. His face twisted in pain.
"Argh… makes sense," he ground out. "It's active. Dreadmark. Heavy one. Whatever's making it already noticed us."
Ash frowned. He knew enough about dreadmarks to understand. It's Pressure. Power made manifest. Only Tier six or higher creatures gave them off. The kind of weight that crushed anyone more than two levels below than them.
But Ash wasn't feeling a thing.
That meant whoever — or whatever — was inside was at least a tier six. Not higher. If it were any higher Ash would be able to feel it.
Max let out a low growl.
"That look on your face tells me you've already done the math. Yeah. Tier six. Actually two of them. No way this is just one signature. Strong as hell."
He forced a bitter chuckle.
"Guess that's our lucky break. If you can call this luck."
Ash snorted.
"Don't dress it up. It's not luck. It's fate dragging me by the throat toward something I never asked for. And if those two are really watching us right now, then we're still in the middle of the meat grinder. Only difference is the teeth are bigger."
Max winced, his body still trembling under the pressure Ash couldn't feel. He half collapsed, bracing himself on the ground. Then he admmited.
"Yeah, you're right. But it doesn't look like leaving's an option anymore. Best we wait here for Kael—"
He cut himself off with a curse, then pushed back to his feet, grimacing like the weight might crack him in half.
"Damn it. I forgot. That idiot transformed."
He spat the words, shaking his head.
"Alright. Change of plans."
Ash narrowed his eye and spoke in a flat tone.
"So you already thought of a plan to leave this place."
Max let out a short laugh, the kind that carried too much weariness to be genuine.
"Oh, no. I was actually thinking we should continue with the whole reason we came here."
Ash sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
"Come on, Max. Aren't you already satisfied? Fine. I'll go alone and see what's inside. You stay here, where it's saf—"
The words cut off, severed mid-sentence. His expression twisted, anger flashing sharp across his face.
Max blinked, thrown off. He knew that look. He'd seen it before — always when Ash spotted the creatures from Varagos. It was the kind of fury that burned deeper than fear.
"What's wrong?" Max asked quickly. "You look like you've just seen one of those things. Honestly, this is the kind of face I expected you to make at the frozen fig—"
"That damn creature!"
Ash snapped, the shout tearing out of him. His hand clenched around his washizaki, the blade vibrating with the force of his grip.
Max startled at the outburst. He had seen Ash angry before, but this was different. It was more Wilder and Sharper.
He followed Ash's gaze upward.
Far above, perched on the highest tower of the castle, sat a crow. Except calling it a crow was generous. Five eyes glowed with five different colors, unblinking and alien. Its body wasn't feathers at all, but a coat of black oil, dripping and slithering over itself, reforming in slow, viscous streams.
Max's eyes widened.
"Wait. Isn't that the same bird you said you saw at Mom's grave? The one you kept running into after that? How the hell is it here?"
Ash didn't answer. His face was all anger and recognition, fixed on the abomination above them. Then he glanced at Max and his voice came out low, absolute.
"Stay here. I'll be right back. I'm going to kill that thing once and for all."
Before Max could argue, Ash bolted forward, passing through the broken gates with lethal intent.
"Hey! Wait! I didn't agree to that!" Max shouted, but Ash was already gone.
Max swore under his breath and followed. He stepped over the shattered threshold, into the castle's shadow — and froze.
Ash was standing perfectly still ahead of him, not even looking at the crow anymore. His body was stiff, his gaze locked on something else.
Max's stomach dropped. He slowly followed his brother's line of sight.
And then he saw them.
Two colossal figures loomed in the courtyard, standing sentinel on either side of the castle's inner gate. At first glance, they looked like towers — massive, jagged spires carved from the same stone-like substance as the creatures outside. But towers didn't breathe. Towers didn't shift. And towers didn't stare back at them.
The figures moved. Heads turned down with the grinding creak of ancient stone. Two pairs of eyes burned white in the dark, brighter than torches, fixing on the intruders below. Each colossus clutched a spear thicker than a tree trunk, its jagged tip dripping with some dark resin that hissed where it touched the ground.
Their armor was no armor at all, but warped extensions of their bodies, fused plates of rock and bone pressed into grotesque shapes. Their ribs jutted through their chests like broken prison bars, and the faint sound of grinding chains rattled with every shift.
The air grew colder. The silence heavier.
Ash's jaw tightened, blade halfway raised, though even he looked small here.
Max swallowed, his voice barely a whisper.
"…I thought those were towers."
The two giants leaned forward ever so slightly, as if amused at the realization.
And the crow above let out a laugh. It wasn't a caw, not even close. It was the sound of something wet and broken gurgling amusement, echoing down the ruined stone like mockery.