The drums hit harder, rattling the stones underfoot. Each beat felt like a nail driven into Aric’s chest.
The Hunters closed in, their movements as precise as clockwork. They didn’t shout. They didn’t taunt. They simply marched forward, bone masks gleaming, weapons raised.
Seraphel planted his staff in the ground. Light flared around him, a dome of pale fire that cast back the shadows. “Stay within the circle!” he barked. His voice shook, but his hands held steady.
The scarred man let out a raspy laugh. “A circle of light against Hunters? Fool’s prayer. They’ll eat through it like wolves on bone.”
“Then pray louder,” Aric snapped, lowering him to the ground.
The girl whimpered and clung to Aric’s sleeve. “Don’t… leave me.”
“I won’t.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Stay behind me
