The slums lay hushed, smothered in that eerie silence only places soaked in fear could carry. Not even the wind stirred between the crooked walls as the squads ringed the courtyard, ready to strike. Velra's signals came sharp and silent, splitting their forces across the surrounding rooftops and alley mouths. All eyes fixed on the Black Fang compound, the faded banners sagging over its boarded windows.
Drathan's voice barely broke a whisper. "Too quiet." His gaze cut across the shadows, pupils glinting like knives. "They know."
Mira's tail bristled. "No… they're waiting."
The air snapped.
Boots pounded from every side. Hidden shutters slammed open. Dozens—then scores—of Black Fang poured from the alleys and rooftops, blades flashing, bows nocked. The courtyard became a trap sprung tight. From the upper windows, oil lamps flared to life, throwing stark light over the chaos as the trio and their allies suddenly found themselves surrounded.
Korran stepped forward from the compound doors, his hulking frame draped in a tattered fur-lined coat, gold teeth flashing like broken coins in his grin. His presence rolled through the courtyard like a foul tide. "Well, well… if it ain't the heroes of Tierwyn," he sneered, voice oily. "I hear you've been sniffin' around my property. That true?"
Velra's expression didn't shift. "We're here for the children you've enslaved."
The gang boss chuckled, low and slow, as his men tightened the circle. "Slaves? Nah. They're investments. Just like everyone else here. And you think you can stroll into my house and take 'em?"
Kenshin's grin was all teeth, sparks crawling along his arms. "Not thinkin', big guy. We know we can."
A ripple of laughter spread through the Black Fang ranks—mean, cruel. Korran's gold grin widened. "Cute. Real cute. But y'see… this is my kingdom. These people breathe 'cause I let 'em. And you? You're just tourists with shiny toys."
Drathan tilted his head lazily, void energy humming faint under his skin. "Bro, tourists don't bring body bags. We came to collect."
Seme twirled her sword once, blade humming. "Talk's cheap. Let 'em go, or we cut through you to get them."
The tension twisted tighter. For a moment, silence dropped like a guillotine. Then Korran's grin curdled, and his voice boomed across the courtyard.
"You got no idea what you just walked into."
Drathan smirked, stepping forward until his shadow merged with Korran's. "Neither do you."
The gang boss's calm cracked—just for a second—as his jaw tightened. The bully's veneer faltered under their defiance. "Kill them," he hissed.
The slums erupted.
The Black Fang surged inward like a wave of steel and rage as Velra's command roared above the clash: "Shields up! Frontline brace—casters, burn their flanks!"
Kenshin was already gone in a blur of crackling light, Seme's blade flashed arcs of silver, and Drathan dissolved into shadow, their squad exploding into motion as the courtyard became a storm of steel.
Velra's frontline squad locked shields with a thunderous crash, spears stabbing through the gaps to halt the first charge. Arrows sparked off raised bucklers, a few slipping through to nick arms and shoulders. The squads' casters answered with roaring gouts of fire and shards of ice that turned the courtyard's edges into a killing field.
Kenshin blurred past a lunging axe-man, lightning trailing from his heel as he rebounded off a wall and slammed his knee into the thug's temple, sending him spinning into two others. Seme weaved between three attackers like a silver storm, her blade carving shallow cuts along thighs and forearms to cripple their swings before she drove an elbow into one's ribs with a crack.
Drathan appeared behind an archer mid-draw, void claws ripping the bowstring and hurling the man into another squad, scattering them like pins. His thoughts were cold and sharp: Focus the numbers. Break their lines before the boss commits.
All around, Black Fang fighters howled, some reckless and wild, others moving in drilled pairs with shields and hooked blades. One hooked Seme's wrist, nearly wrenching her blade away before she spun and drove a heel into his knee, folding him backward. Another slammed a spiked mace against Velra's shield, sending cracks splintering through the wood.
Kenshin slid under a spear thrust, crackling fingers brushing the cobblestone to launch a current that paralyzed three men mid-step. "Man, y'all swingin' like you underwater!" he barked, grinning wild.
Drathan's voice cut the air like a whip: "Collapse their right flank. Now."
Velra echoed the call, her squads pivoting with precision. Shields slammed, blades punched, fire swept. The Black Fang right side faltered under the coordinated surge, bodies hitting the ground as the trio pressed deeper, their movements blurring through the press of enemies like ghosts slipping between heartbeats.
Above the chaos, Korran finally moved—vaulting from the compound steps and crashing into the fray like a boulder, his massive mace sending shockwaves through the stone. The impact hurled three adventurers back, shields crumpling under the strike. His roar boomed like a beast as his lieutenants, clad in spiked leathers and wielding cruel jagged axes, surged to close ranks around him.
Kenshin's eyes lit. "Aight, boss wants smoke."
Drathan cracked his neck, void rippling from his shoulders. "Then let's suffocate him in it."
Seme grinned sharp. "Don't get sloppy."
And then the trio dove in, a blur of light, shadow, and silver steel, as the courtyard battle reached its true crescendo.