The world slowed.
Kael's pulse thundered in his ears as the guard took a step toward him, hand resting on the hilt of a notched longsword. The adventurers at the nearby table straightened, eyes narrowing as they sensed the sudden shift in the room's air.
His hand clenched tighter around the dagger's hilt beneath his cloak.
He could already feel it — the weight of steel, the crackle of magic, the surety of death if he fought here.
Three adventurers. Two armed guards. And me, wounded and half-starved.
Even with the blood-stone's warmth pulsing in his veins, Kael knew the odds. He wasn't strong enough.
Not yet.
The guard called out, voice sharp.
"You! Stand and show your face."
Kael's heart pounded.
Move. Now.
In a single, fluid motion, he drew the dagger and flung it across the room. It struck the first guard square in the chest — not a killing blow, but enough to stagger him back with a startled gasp.
Before the others could react, Kael snatched up the heavy mug from his table and hurled it at the second guard. The thick wooden cup smashed into the man's temple with a dull crack, sending him reeling.
Shouts erupted.
"Monster—!"
Kael didn't wait. He spun toward the nearest window, charged, and hurled himself through it. The glass shattered around him as he crashed into the cold night air.
He hit the muddy street hard, rolled, and scrambled to his feet. Pain shot through his ribs, but he didn't stop. Behind him, furious voices and steel clashed against wood.
"After him!"
The mournful hunting horn sounded again — closer this time.
Kael ran.
The streets were a blur of shadow and flickering torchlight. He vaulted over crates, ducked between buildings, his breath ragged in his throat. Every step felt heavier, the weight of his wounds dragging at him, but terror sharpened his focus.
He heard boots pounding after him, angry voices calling for his blood.
"He went that way!"
"Cut him off!"
Kael turned a corner and found himself at a dead end — a high stone wall too slick to climb in his state. The sound of pursuit was closing fast.
Desperation clawed at him.
Then — a rusted grate, half-buried in the mud at the base of the wall. A drainage tunnel. Narrow. Filthy. But it was a way out.
Kael dropped to one knee, gritted his teeth, and ripped the grate free with a burst of strength.
He dove into the darkness just as torchlight spilled into the alley behind him.
"Where'd he go?!"
"He was right here—"
Kael pressed himself against the damp, narrow passage walls, heart thundering.
Above him, voices cursed and argued. He heard the clatter of armor, the scrape of boots against cobblestones.
Then — silence.
Kael waited, barely breathing.
The darkness closed around him, the stench of earth and rot thick in the air. Somewhere deeper within the tunnels, water dripped steadily.
He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, body trembling from exertion.
That was too close.
He couldn't keep running like this.
Not forever.
Not alone.
Kael knew now — the humans were relentless. Every town, every village, every path would become a hunting ground.
He needed allies.
Power.
A way to turn the hunt back on them.
He closed his eyes, letting the blood-stone's pulse guide him deeper into the darkness, away from the village. A whisper stirred in the depths of his mind, a faint memory of old words buried in the earth.
"The forgotten gather in the hollow places. Seek them, child of stone."
Kael's jaw tightened.
He would.
But as he moved, something ahead stirred. A presence. Not human. Not quite monster.
A low, rasping breath echoed through the tunnel.
Kael froze.
A shape emerged from the black — too tall, too thin, its eyes reflecting the faintest glimmer of light.
It spoke, voice rough as grinding stone.
"You bleed, child of earth. Come closer… we have been waiting for you."
Kael's stomach twisted.
He reached for his dagger — only to remember it was buried in a guard's chest..