The final assault began before dawn.

  Vale woke to thunder.

  Not storms.

  Impact.

  The sound rolled through the city like an earthquake, stone trembling beneath sleeping bodies. Dust fell from ceiling beams as refugees jerked awake in panic.

  Then came the horns.

  Not warning horns.

  Panic horns.

  Vale was already on his feet before his mind fully caught up. He grabbed his coat, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ribs, and sprinted outside.

  The night sky burned orange beyond the walls.

  Another impact thundered.

  Screams echoed through distant streets.

  Lyn burst from the shelter behind him.

  “What now?!”

  Vale didn’t slow.

  “This is it.”

  Because predators didn’t test forever.

  They struck when prey weakened.

  And the city was bleeding.

  They ran through chaotic streets as soldiers shoved civilians toward inner districts. People stumbled from sleep, dragging children, clutching possessions.

  A guard shouted:

  “INNER WALLS! MOVE!”

  Inner walls.

  Vale’s blood ran cold.

  The outer districts had fallen.

  They reached the western ramparts just as another siege beast smashed into the outer defenses.

  But this time—

  The wall didn’t hold.

  Stone exploded inward.

  Entire sections collapsed in avalanches of rubble and dust. Soldiers vanished beneath falling debris as monsters surged through breaches.

  Vale stared in horror.

  The outer wall was gone.

  Not cracked.

  Gone.

  Predators flooded through the opening like a living tide.

  Civilians screamed.

  Soldiers retreated desperately toward inner barricades.

  Lyn whispered:

  “…Oh no.”

  Vale moved.

  He jumped from the rampart into chaos below.

  Authority flared, cushioning impact as he landed amid fleeing civilians.

  “RUN!” he shouted.

  People obeyed instinctively.

  Behind them, monsters poured through.

  Crawler beasts scuttled over rubble.

  Wolf predators sprinted into streets.

  Flying creatures dove from smoke-filled skies.

  The city had been breached.

  For real.

  Vale slammed into the first predator reaching civilians, crushing its skull beneath Authority-enhanced strength. But three more followed immediately.

  Too many.

  Soldiers fought desperately, but lines collapsed under sheer numbers.

  A captain shouted:

  “FALL BACK TO INNER WALL!”

  But retreat turned into rout.

  Panic shattered discipline.

  People trampled each other trying to escape.

  Vale grabbed a fallen soldier and dragged him clear of trampling feet before turning again.

  Everywhere—

  Chaos.

  And then—

  Another crash shook the city.

  Vale looked up.

  Eastern walls collapsed too.

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  Simultaneous breach.

  The hunter attacked everywhere at once.

  No escape.

  Lyn reached him, breathless.

  “They’re inside the city!”

  “Yes.”

  “What do we do?”

  Vale stared at surging monsters.

  At civilians dying.

  At soldiers overwhelmed.

  His mind raced.

  One truth settled cold and heavy:

  They couldn’t win this fight street by street.

  They had to slow the monsters.

  Or the city died within hours.

  He roared:

  “FORM A LINE!”

  Soldiers nearby hesitated.

  Then rallied.

  Authority pressure spread outward, forcing predators to hesitate momentarily.

  Soldiers used the moment to form a defensive line.

  But Vale felt it—

  His Authority weakened.

  Overuse.

  Exhaustion.

  Pain blurred his vision.

  Still—

  He held.

  Behind them, civilians escaped deeper into city.

  Minutes passed.

  Felt like hours.

  Then—

  Flying predators descended again.

  Chaos returned.

  Soldiers fell.

  Line collapsed.

  Monsters surged forward.

  Vale stumbled backward.

  This was losing.

  Badly.

  Behind him, Iron Crown crashed into battle again, hammer smashing predators aside.

  Wind Authority followed, air slicing through flying beasts.

  But even combined—

  They were overwhelmed.

  Lyn screamed:

  “Vale!”

  A predator lunged toward him.

  He killed it—

  Too slow.

  Another slashed his side.

  Pain exploded.

  He staggered.

  Vision blurred.

  This was it.

  Too many.

  Too tired.

  Too late.

  Then—

  A horn sounded.

  Different.

  Deep.

  Resonant.

  The inner wall gates opened.

  Heavy infantry charged out.

  Fresh soldiers.

  Reserve forces.

  They slammed into monsters, pushing them back long enough to evacuate civilians.

  Vale gasped for breath.

  Inner defenses still held.

  For now.

  A commander shouted:

  “Fall back! Inner districts only!”

  Soldiers obeyed.

  Vale staggered toward inner gates as monsters surged again.

  Behind them, engineers detonated charges.

  Outer streets collapsed into rubble, slowing pursuit.

  Smoke and dust filled the air.

  Vale crossed into inner districts.

  Gates slammed shut.

  Silence followed.

  Broken only by distant roars beyond barricades.

  Lyn grabbed his arm.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Vale looked down.

  Blood soaked his side.

  He barely noticed.

  Because something else mattered.

  The outer city was lost.

  Entire districts overrun.

  Thousands trapped.

  He looked back at sealed gates.

  People pounded desperately on the other side.

  Soldiers refused to open.

  Because opening meant death for everyone.

  Lyn whispered:

  “…They’re leaving them.”

  Vale closed his eyes briefly.

  “Yes.”

  Screams echoed beyond the walls.

  Then slowly—

  Stopped.

  Silence spread.

  Heavy.

  Horrible.

  And everyone knew.

  The city had been cut in half.

  And monsters owned the rest.

  Vale stared at the barricades.

  And understood.

  The siege had entered its final phase.

  And the next attack—

  Would end everything.

  The screams beyond the inner gates faded slowly.

  Not all at once.

  First came frantic pounding against sealed doors. Voices begging soldiers to open them. Mothers screaming children’s names. Soldiers stood rigid behind barricades, faces pale, refusing to meet the eyes of the trapped.

  Then the monsters reached them.

  The pounding turned to shrieks.

  Shrieks to choking cries.

  Then silence.

  The kind that hollowed out a city.

  Vale leaned against the inner wall, blood soaking through torn cloth at his side. His breathing came in ragged pulls, but he barely noticed the pain anymore. Shock dulled everything.

  Around him, civilians collapsed in grief or exhaustion. Some screamed accusations at soldiers. Others simply stared, unable to process what had happened.

  A man lunged toward the gate.

  “You left them!”

  Two guards restrained him.

  “We’d all die!”

  The man sobbed.

  “My wife is out there!”

  No one answered.

  Because there was no answer.

  Lyn stood beside Vale, her hands shaking.

  “…We just abandoned half the city.”

  Vale swallowed slowly.

  “Yes.”

  His voice sounded distant even to himself.

  Smoke drifted over inner districts now, the outer city burning beyond barricades. The smell of ash and blood filled the air.

  The commander arrived minutes later, pushing through soldiers with grim urgency.

  “Status.”

  An officer answered:

  “Outer districts lost. Approximately thirty percent civilian population trapped outside inner wall.”

  Silence followed.

  The commander closed her eyes briefly.

  “And monsters?”

  “Occupying outer districts. Not advancing.”

  Vale frowned slightly.

  “Not advancing?”

  The officer shook his head.

  “They stopped at the barricade.”

  Murmurs spread.

  Lyn whispered:

  “They’re… waiting?”

  Vale’s stomach twisted.

  “Yes.”

  Because predators didn’t rush full prey.

  They cornered it.

  Then closed in slowly.

  The commander turned to Vale.

  “You understand this thing better than anyone. Why stop?”

  Vale stared at the sealed gates.

  “Because it wants them afraid.”

  Silence fell.

  The commander clenched her jaw.

  “Then we prepare.”

  Inner districts descended into controlled chaos.

  Thousands of refugees poured into already crowded streets. Soldiers directed civilians toward emergency shelters while healers treated wounded in makeshift triage zones.

  Supplies dwindled immediately.

  Food lines doubled.

  Arguments tripled.

  Vale walked through streets feeling eyes on him again.

  Not admiration.

  Not anger.

  Desperation.

  A woman grabbed his arm.

  “You’ll save them, right?”

  Vale froze.

  “…I can’t.”

  Her face collapsed.

  She stepped away slowly, disbelief turning into grief.

  Another man shouted:

  “Why didn’t you stop them?!”

  Vale didn’t answer.

  Because he couldn’t.

  Lyn muttered beside him:

  “They think you can fix everything.”

  Vale shook his head.

  “They think someone should.”

  Silence stretched.

  But no one could fix this.

  By evening, command gathered remaining Authority users in the central plaza.

  Iron Crown stood nearby, armor battered but intact. Wind Authority leaned against a broken fountain, exhaustion etched across her face.

  Vale joined them silently.

  The commander addressed them bluntly.

  “Outer city is gone.”

  No sugarcoating.

  Good.

  “Monsters occupy abandoned districts. They haven’t attacked inner walls yet.”

  Wind Authority frowned.

  “Why wait?”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “Because they don’t need to rush.”

  Silence followed.

  Iron Crown crossed his arms.

  “So what, we starve now?”

  The commander nodded grimly.

  “Food stores lost in western fires and outer depots.”

  Murmurs spread.

  An officer added:

  “Inner reserves last maybe two weeks.”

  Two weeks.

  Silence crushed the gathering.

  Vale stared across the plaza.

  Children huddled around weak fires.

  Soldiers slumped in exhaustion.

  People cried quietly.

  The commander continued:

  “We hold inner walls.”

  Wind Authority scoffed weakly.

  “With what?”

  The commander gestured around.

  “With what we have.”

  Silence stretched.

  Vale spoke quietly:

  “They’ll attack again.”

  The commander nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  Vale shook his head.

  “Soon.”

  Because fear ripened prey.

  And fear now consumed the city.

  Night fell heavily.

  No celebrations.

  No false hope.

  Just quiet despair.

  Vale climbed the inner wall alone, ignoring his injuries. Pain flared with every movement, but he needed to see.

  Outer districts burned beyond barricades. Monster shapes moved through ruined streets, feeding, hunting survivors too slow to escape.

  Torches flickered among their ranks.

  Organized.

  Disciplined.

  And beyond them—

  At the edge of firelight—

  The hunter stood again.

  Watching.

  Satisfied.

  Vale felt its gaze even at this distance.

  A predator studying trapped prey.

  Behind him, footsteps approached.

  Lyn joined him silently.

  “…They’re not attacking.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Vale answered softly:

  “Because we’re already dying.”

  Silence stretched.

  Wind carried distant roars across ruined districts.

  Lyn hugged her arms.

  “What happens now?”

  Vale stared across burning city.

  “We survive tomorrow.”

  Silence followed.

  Because tomorrow was all that remained.

  Behind inner walls, the city clung to life.

  Outside them, the hunter waited patiently.

  And Vale understood the truth now.

  The siege wasn’t meant to break walls.

  It was meant to break people.

  And once people broke—

  Walls didn’t matter anymore.