The sun was a fading orange bruise behind the mountain peaks, casting long, grasping shadows through the rusted canyons of Ironfall. We'd been in the dead dwarf's workshop for less than an hour, but the world outside had shifted from grim afternoon to treacherous twilight.
"Masks on," Selene ordered, her voice a low whip-crack in the alley's gloom. "Now."
We complied. Black cloth masks that covered nose and mouth, leaving only eyes exposed. I pulled mine up, the fabric stale and smelling of old dust. I shrugged my pack off, swiftly transferring the vital things—my remaining gold mark, the pouch of silver and copper, the two mana potions, and the rations—into the extradimensional storage of my System Inventory. A thought sent them away into a pocket of nothingness only I could access. My hands felt lighter. My mind felt sharper. I kept my dwarven short swords sheathed in the harness on my back. They were a tool I might need in a hurry.
"Status," I muttered under my breath, pulling up the translucent screen only I could see as we began moving.
[MONARCH OF DARKNESS SYSTEM]
User: Damian
Soul Integrity: 66.8%
Cultivation:
Darkness: 2nd Order, Rank 5 (Peak-Stage). Grade: D-.
Earth: 2nd Order, Rank 4. Grade: D (Geo-Crystalline Enhanced).
Fire: 2nd Order, Rank 3. Grade: D.
Credits: 1,750
Quest Log: [Swift Sanction - Completed.]
The numbers were a cold comfort. I was stronger than I'd been a week ago, but facing what was coming, it might not be enough.
We moved like ghosts through the descending dark, sticking to the deepest shadows. The raucous noise of the taverns and forges was starting up, covering the sound of our footsteps. But we weren't the only predators out tonight.
We'd made it two levels up from Rust Gulch, bypassing the main thoroughfares through a maze of laundry-strung back alleys, when Noah's raven, Korv, let out a sharp, warning kraa from a rooftop above.
Noah froze, his head tilting. "Company. Five… no, six. Behind us. Moving with purpose. They are armored and light on their feet."
"Empire agents," Selene hissed. "They must have had the workshop watched. They saw us go in, saw us come out. They'll want the plate. Pick up the pace. To the western scrap yard."
We broke into a controlled run. But the sound of pursuing boots, light and fast, echoed off the close walls. They were gaining. They knew these alleys too.
We burst out onto a slightly wider street just as the last light died, plunged into the deep blue of night illuminated by sporadic, swaying mana-lamps. It was a market street, now mostly shuttered, piles of refuse stacked against walls.
"More!" Liam snapped, pointing ahead. Three figures blocked the far end of the street, silhouetted against a lamp. They wore dark, functional leathers with the subtle gleam of imperial steel at their hips.
We were boxed in. Six behind, three ahead. Nine total. And these wouldn't be raw recruits. These would be Imperial Intelligence, or a contracted hunter squad. My Gaze flickered over the group ahead.
[Threat Assessment: Argentum Empire Operatives.]
Leader (Center): 3rd Order, Rank 1. Affinity: Metal/Force. Threat: High.
Two Flankers: 2nd Order, Rank 7 & 8. Affinities: Wind/Sound, Earth/Stone. Threat: Moderate-High.
"Damn it," Selene cursed, a rare loss of composure. Her eyes darted, calculating. "They're converging. We can't fight nine in the open, not with the asset." Her gaze landed on the rune-plate case at her belt. It was the priority.
"We split," she decided, voice urgent. "Draw them off. Misdirection. Liam, Noah—you go north, up the smelter's stair. Make noise. Damian, you go south, into the Warrens. Lose them in the maze. I'll take Olivia, Mara and the asset due west, through the drainage culvert. Rendezvous at the primary extraction point in two hours. If you're not there, you find your own way back to the Sanctuary or we assume you are dead. Move!"
It was a brutal, logical order. Split the pursuit. The ones with the fewest tails had the best chance. Liam and Noah, moving together as a known pair, would draw some. I, alone, would draw the rest. She, with the medic and the objective, would slip away in the confusion.
No one argued. In the House of Crimson, hesitation was a death sentence.
Liam and Noah didn't wait. With a shared nod, they turned and sprinted north, Liam letting out a deliberately loud yell, kicking over a pile of crates. As predicted, the three operatives at the far end and two from the group behind peeled off after them. The sound of clashing metal and a burst of wind magic echoed almost immediately. They'd taken five.
That left seven for me. No, as I turned to sprint south down a reeking alley, I heard more footsteps joining from a side lane. My Gaze caught flickers behind me.
Eleven. A full squad had decided the lone runner was the easier prey, or perhaps they'd been ordered to capture someone for interrogation.
"South target! He's alone! Take him alive if you can!" a voice barked from the pursuing pack.
I plunged into The Warrens, the oldest, most tangled part of Ironfall. Buildings were stacked upon each other, leaning so close they blocked out the sky. Walkways of rotting wood spanned gaps above. The ground was a slurry of mud and worse. The perfect place for an ambush… for both sides.
I didn't run blindly. I used every trick the Pit and the Academy had taught me. I vaulted low walls, scrambled up short, crumbling cliffs of masonry, and dropped through gaps into lower alleys. I used Veil of Stillness to blur my shape in the deep shadows, to make their eyes slide off me for a precious second.
But they were professionals. They didn't lose me. They spread out, a net of moving shadows and soft footfalls. I heard them coordinating with sharp whistles and hand signals.
Whump!
A gout of fire exploded on the wall to my left, lighting up the alley. A Fire adept in the group, herding me.
I ducked right, into a narrow passage that ended in a T-junction. As I hit the junction, a figure dropped from a roof above, landing in a crouch to block my path. A beastkin with cat-like eyes, blades in hand. 2nd Order, Rank 6.
No time to duel. I didn't break stride. I poured Earth mana into my legs and launched into a flying kick. It was a brutish, inelegant move, empowered by pure density. My boot caught him square in the chest before he could fully rise. There was a crack, a choked yowl, and he was flung backwards into a stack of empty barrels.
I was past him, but the delay cost me. From the left fork of the T-junction, three more poured in. From behind, the main group's footsteps grew thunderous.
I was being funneled.
I took the only path left—the right fork. It sloped downwards, into a broader, but dead-ended courtyard. It was a delivery yard for a shuttered tavern, filled with empty casks and stacks of firewood. High walls on three sides. The only way out was the way I came in, now blocked by the sound of approaching pursuers.
I spun, my back to the tavern's stone wall, as they flowed into the courtyard.
Eleven of them. They fanned out, forming a half-circle, cutting off any escape. The one in the center, the leader my Gaze had identified, stepped forward. A woman with steel-grey hair cropped short, her face all sharp angles. Her metal affinity made the air around her hum faintly.
[Imperial Agent Elara. 3rd Order, Rank 1. Affinity: Metal/Force. Threat: High.]
To her left, a hulking man with stone-like skin. [2nd Order, Rank 9. Affinity: Earth/Stone.] To her right, a wiry man with a drawn bow, the arrowhead glinting with compressed wind. [2nd Order, Rank 8. Affinity: Wind.] The others filled the gaps—sword-wielders, another fire user, a healer in the back. A perfect, balanced kill-team.
Elara's eyes, cold and analytical, scanned me over her own drawn short sword. "Drop your weapons. The artefact case your handler carried. Where is it?"
I said nothing. My breath was even. My mind was a frozen lake. I counted exits, weapons, weaknesses. The stone wall at my back was thick. The firewood stacks were to my left and right. The casks were scattered.
"Last chance," she said, taking a step closer. The other ten tightened the circle. "You're outmatched, outnumbered, and cornered. Your friends abandoned you. Make the smart choice."
The night air was cold. The only sounds were their controlled breathing and the distant drip of water. They thought they had me caged.
My hands didn't go to the swords on my back. They stayed loose at my sides. I met Elara's gaze from behind my mask.
"You talk too much," I said, my voice flat in the silent yard.