The night broke under the sound of pursuit.
At first, it was just a faint echo down the alley, like loose shutters in the wind. But as we ran, the rhythm grew sharper, heavier, until it wasn't background noise anymore—it was the only thing I could hear.
Boots. Dozens of them. All in perfect sync.
Ryn's breath was ragged beside me, white mist spilling into the damp air. "They're not stopping," she said, her voice tight. "And they're faster than the last group."
I could feel it too. Not just speed. Intent. The kind of focus that belongs to people who only exist to end someone's life.
[ Alert: Hostile Signatures Detected – 12 ]
[ Classification: Elite Tracking Unit ]
The Council had unleashed their Hounds.
I'd heard the name before, whispered in the undercity by men who swore they'd never seen them, only their work. Not soldiers. Not assassins. Hunters. They didn't carry orders to kill—you were the order. And once they picked up your scent, they didn't stop until you were cold on the ground.
"Split," I said.
Ryn didn't argue. She vanished into a side alley, shadows swallowing her whole. That was the only way this worked—if one of us drew them off. If I drew them off.
I vaulted a low wall, boots hitting the slick stones of a cramped courtyard. The air smelled of mildew, rotting fish, and the faint, metallic edge of rain about to break. My Soul Resonance pulsed in my chest, sharp and steady.
They were close.
The first came from above—a black blur dropping into my blind spot, twin daggers glinting in the lamplight. I spun, steel meeting steel in a crack of sparks. The force rattled my arms. He was strong, but his weight was committed to the strike. I stepped aside, blade sliding between his ribs before his feet even touched the ground.
[ +280 XP ]
A shadow moved at my flank. Two more—one low, one high, attacking in perfect sync. I caught the high strike, felt the shock up my forearm, and planted my boot on the shoulder of the one below, vaulting over them both. My blade cut deep into the exposed back of the first, his breath leaving him in a wet gasp. The second spun, knife raised—my knee shattered his jaw before the strike landed.
[ +275 XP ]
[ +265 XP ]
The rest of them stepped into view, sealing the courtyard. No shouts. No threats. Just silence—the kind that made your pulse sound too loud in your own ears.
[ Hazard Detected: Multiple Elite Hostiles in Close Quarters ]
Good.
My Soul Resonance bled into my limbs until the world narrowed to angles, openings, and the faintest shifts in muscle before a strike.
They moved.
Chains hissed through the air, knives flickered like falling stars, and three came at me with curved blades meant to hook and tear. The chain caught my arm—I yanked, pulling its wielder forward, and my sword cut him clean in two. A spike grazed my cheek; the thrower lost his hand a heartbeat later.
[ +290 XP ]
[ +310 XP ]
Someone got close enough to slam a knee into my ribs. Pain flared white, but the next swing of my blade silenced him. My boots slid on the wet stone as I pivoted, catching another's thrust and driving my sword into his chest until I felt the hilt kiss leather.
[ +285 XP ]
Three left.
One rolled a small sphere at my feet. It burst with a hiss, and smoke swallowed the courtyard. My eyes stung, my throat burned, but I didn't need to see. I let the vibrations in the stone guide me, every footstep painting a ghost in my mind. A step to the right, a twist—my blade opened a throat.
[ +300 XP ]
The last two hesitated. They'd felt the fight turn.
"Run," I told them, voice low.
They didn't.
It was over in seconds.
[ +280 XP ]
[ +295 XP ]
Silence returned, heavy and wrong. My breathing rasped in the cold, my heartbeat still hammering from the Soul Resonance overload. Blood—mine and theirs—ran between the courtyard's uneven stones.
[ Rank Progression: D- → D ]
[ Soul Resonance Capacity Increased ]
So I was stronger now. The Council would notice. And when they did, they'd send worse than the Hounds.
That was when I saw it.
A figure, high on the far rooftop. Cloaked. Motionless. Watching.
No insignia. No weapon in sight. Just presence—like a blade held against the back of my neck without ever touching skin.
Ryn's voice cracked through the crystal at my collar, strained but urgent. "Kael… you need to move. Now."
I didn't answer. The figure didn't follow when I slipped into the alley shadows. Didn't vanish either. Just kept watching.
I didn't know who they were. But I knew one thing.
The Hounds were just the opening act.