The first breach tore open shortly after midnight.
A distortion rippled violently through the weakened ward line, splintering the last of the stabilizing runes before anyone could reinforce them. A mid-tier creature forced its way through first, heavy limbs dragging across the forest floor.
Klaine moved immediately.
"Contain at the outer ring."
Knights shifted into position with drilled precision. Steel met bone. Controlled bursts of magic detonated at measured intervals. The creature fell within minutes, followed quickly by another that emerged behind it.
The first wave was suppressed efficiently.
Disciplined. Clean.
Arietta remained behind the reinforced barrier line, observing without interference.
The forest then fell unnaturally quiet.
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"It's widening," she said.
The crack appeared a heartbeat later.
A thin vertical fracture split the air itself beyond the ruined ward stone. At first it seemed narrow enough to manage.
Then it spread.
The first low-tier creature crawled through, malformed and twitching.
Five followed.
Then twenty.
Then an unbroken stream.
They were individually weak—small, twisted, barely armored—but they poured from the fracture without pause, climbing over one another in their haste to reach open ground.
"Reinforce perimeter!" Klaine ordered at once.
The knights widened their line. Mages adjusted output and began cutting down the foremost ranks in controlled sweeps. Bodies fell in clusters.
But the flow did not slow.
For every group that dropped, more spilled forward, scrambling over corpses without hesitation.
A knight staggered when three lunged at once; another dragged him back before the formation collapsed. The suppression rate began to fail its projection.
"Commander—numbers exceeding calculation."
Klaine already knew.
He measured distance to the first row of houses. He calculated mana reserves, physical fatigue, rotation timing. He tracked the rate at which the breach produced bodies.
They could hold the outer perimeter.
Or they could guarantee civilian survival.
They could not do both.
His jaw tightened.
"Prepare evacuation."
The order cut through the field.
Half the knights began a disciplined withdrawal toward the village. The remaining half tightened formation to slow the swarm's advance. There was no panic in their movements, only efficiency under pressure.
Arietta watched as doors were forced open and villagers were ushered out in rapid succession. Children were lifted and carried. Elderly men were supported between armored shoulders. Livestock were cut loose.
The low-tiers reached the first fence line.
They moved without fear or hesitation, crawling, leaping, piling over one another in crude persistence.
The little girl screamed when a knight lifted her over his shoulder and ran.
The bracelet tightened faintly around Arietta's wrist as her hand curled.
Something unfamiliar rose in her chest.
It was not fear.
It was not calculation.
It was anger.
Pure and sharp.
How irritating.
"Klaine."
He did not turn.
"Thirty seconds," he called to the front line. "Then controlled withdrawal."
She stepped forward.
He saw the movement immediately.
"Do not cross formation."
She crossed it anyway.
Only one step beyond the barrier line.
The swarm reacted at once, heads snapping toward her as if drawn by gravity. Several knights shifted instinctively to intercept the incoming rush.
"Hold," she said.
Her voice was not loud.
It was not forceful.
Yet it carried.
Not through the air—but through them.
Every low-tier creature froze.
Mid-lunge.
Mid-crawl.
Mid-snarl.
Limbs halted inches above ground. Jaws locked open. Clawed feet suspended mid-step.
The entire swarm stopped as if the world had paused around her.
The forest fell into a stunned silence broken only by distant evacuation shouts.
Arietta stood calmly at the center of it.
"Face forward."
The creatures' heads turned in perfect unison.
Uniform.
Obedient.
Their breathing grew shallow. Their bodies trembled faintly under the pressure of restraint, but none moved.
Even new monsters crawling through the crack froze the instant their bodies fully crossed the threshold, as though the command had become law the moment it was spoken.
The knights nearest her stared openly now.
Klaine's expression did not change—but his eyes sharpened.
"This is your ability," he said evenly.
"Yes."
She did not look back at him.
"Evacuation complete!" came the signal from behind the line.
Klaine's gaze flicked briefly toward the village. Civilians had cleared the inner perimeter.
He returned his attention to the field.
Immobilized targets.
Unknown duration.
No resistance.
"Can you maintain control?"
"Yes."
There was no strain in her posture. No visible exertion. She stood as though waiting for a minor inconvenience to conclude.
"For how long?"
"As long as I wish."
Silence stretched between them.
"Proceed with elimination," Klaine ordered.
The knights advanced carefully. They cut through the frozen ranks methodically—decapitating, piercing cores, shattering skulls with disciplined precision.
The monsters did not resist.
They died kneeling.
When the last body fell, Arietta lifted her hand slightly.
"Close."
The fracture in the air convulsed once before folding inward. It compressed like torn fabric pulled from both ends, then snapped shut with a muted distortion.
The forest returned to stillness.
The pressure lifted.
Arietta lowered her hand.
The village stood damaged but intact.
Broken fences.
Scorched earth.
But no collapsed homes.
No lost civilians.
Klaine approached her slowly across the field of bodies.
"You disobeyed a direct instruction."
"Yes."
"You crossed defensive formation."
"Yes."
"You interfered with operational command."
"Yes."
Her replies were immediate and even.
He studied her face.
"Why."
She glanced toward the distant houses where villagers were being counted and reassured.
"It was inefficient to allow further structural loss."
"That is not what I asked."
A brief pause.
She met his gaze directly.
"I apologize."
The words were correct.
Measured.
Appropriately delivered.
Completely perfunctory.
"I will inform you before acting independently next time."
There was no defiance in her tone.
But neither was there regret.
Klaine held her gaze for a long moment.
"Do so."
"Yes."
He turned to issue field reorganization orders.
Behind him, Arietta looked once more toward the village.
The children were alive.
The little girl still had both shoes on.
That was sufficient.
She flexed her fingers once, as if testing the air.
Next time, she thought calmly,
they would not get that close.