The air inside the church tasted like dust and static.
David stepped through the broken doors first, the glow from his hand casting long, green shadows over cracked pews and shattered glass.
"You feel that?" Elliot whispered.
"Hard to miss. Mana pressure's off the charts."
Something scuttled in the dark. Then another. The sound multiplied—soft claws scraping against stone.
From between the pews crawled a shape made of smoke and bone. Then another.
Half-formed creatures—vague outlines of wolves and men, their bodies flickering like bad projections.
"Oh, great," Elliot said. "Spectral taxidermy."
"Stay behind me," David muttered.
The first one lunged. David's circle flared; a green pulse exploded outward, slamming the creatures into the walls. They burst apart into black mist.
For a heartbeat, it was quiet.
Then the floor groaned. Dozens more crawled out of the cracks—weak, incomplete, but endless.
"We're surrounded!" Elliot yelled.
"Good. Easier to aim."
David exhaled and merged mana and qi, threads of green and white spinning together. Each movement flowed like water—no wasted motion, no hesitation. Every punch burst into light; every step echoed like thunder.
Within seconds, the swarm dissolved into dust. The church went silent again… almost.
A deep rumble shook the altar. The cross at the far end tilted, then fell, revealing a black pit beneath it.
From the pit rose something massive—stone wings unfurling, eyes burning with molten gold.
The creature's body looked carved from cathedral marble, its face part lion, part dragon. Every step cracked the tiles beneath it.
Elliot's jaw dropped. "That's… that's not in the travel guide."
"No," David said, "but I think we just met the legend."
The creature opened its mouth, releasing a roar that sounded like grinding bells. Mana flared through the entire church, shattering what little glass remained.
David raised a barrier, the green-white light flickering under the pressure. "Physical defense, magical resistance… great. It's got both."
Elliot fumbled with his tablet, crouching behind a pew. "Okay, okay—give me a second. What exactly am I searching?"
"Mythical monsters of Prague!" David shouted.
"You mean like—old legends?!"
"Yes, Elliot, the kind that's trying to eat us!"
Elliot's fingers flew. "Okay, there's something here—an old story about a 'Stone Guardian' under St. George's Basilica. Said to protect the city from foreign invaders… made from consecrated marble and dragon blood."
"Any weaknesses?"
"Uh… supposedly it only stops moving when—wait—when the church bells ring?"
The creature roared again, charging.
David gritted his teeth. "Figures. No bells left."
He leaped forward, qi compressing around his fist. The blow struck the monster's chest—cracks formed, but light poured out instead of blood. It swung back, its arm slamming him through a row of pews.
Elliot ducked. "You're okay, right?!"
"Mostly insulted," David growled, standing. "See if any part of this building still works!"
Elliot scanned frantically, then pointed toward the tower staircase. "There! The old bell rope!"
David glanced up. The stairs were half-collapsed, debris everywhere.
"Of course." He smirked. "You handle the internet; I'll handle cardio."
He sprinted for the stairs, dodging a swipe of the creature's tail. Each step shook under the impact, dust raining down like snow.
Elliot yelled from below, "You sure this is gonna work?!"
"Nope!"
The monster lunged again, but David reached the top, grabbed the rope, and channeled what remained of his mana into it.
The cracked bronze bell trembled once—then rang.
The sound rolled through the ruins like thunder blessed by gods. The creature froze mid-step, its eyes dimming, the light inside its cracks fading out.
David exhaled, leaning on the railing. "Guess legends have some truth left in them."
Elliot grinned from below. "Remind me never to skip history class again."
The church fell silent once more. Dust drifted through a single beam of moonlight.
David looked down into the pit the monster had come from—faint light still pulsing within. The disruption wasn't gone.
"That wasn't the source," he murmured.
Elliot frowned. "You mean there's more?"
"There's always more."