Eliza's sharp gaze locked onto the masked man as he fell silent mid-sentence, his body eerily still. His head tilted slightly, as though he were listening to something—or someone—Eliza couldn't hear. The only sound was the faint whisper of wind slipping through cracks in the building. A chill ran through her, though her expression remained unshaken.
Finally, the masked man opened his eyes, his tone regretful but laced with malice.
"I'm sorry, Eliza, but I can't give you your guardian."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why? We had a deal."
"You didn't keep your end of the bargain."
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
The masked man's lips twisted into a smug smile beneath the mask. "You didn't come alone. My men have captured your escort, and they'll do the same to you."
Before she could react, masked figures emerged from the shadows surrounding the building, weapons glinting in the dim light. They stepped forward, their movements predatory and deliberate.
Eliza sighed heavily and slid her dagger free, the blade whispering against the sheath. "I really don't have time for this."
The first man lunged, a jagged blade arcing toward her head. Eliza sidestepped smoothly, grabbing his wrist mid-swing and twisting sharply. The man screamed as his weapon clattered to the ground, and Eliza slammed an elbow into his jaw. He crumpled instantly.
Another rushed her from behind. Without turning, she dropped into a low spin, sweeping his legs out from under him. As he hit the ground, she rose fluidly and drove her heel into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.
Two more closed in simultaneously, one swinging a mace while the other thrust a short spear. Eliza pivoted left, narrowly dodging the mace's crushing blow, the wind from it brushing her cheek. She caught the spear mid-thrust, wrenching it from the man's grip and driving the blunt end into his stomach. He doubled over, groaning. The mace-wielder charged again, but Eliza ducked under the wild swing, stepped into his guard, and delivered a vicious upward strike with the spear's shaft. Blood splattered as he staggered backward, his nose shattered.
For every man she downed, two more seemed to take their place. They swarmed her with practiced precision, their weapons coming from all directions. Eliza's breathing quickened as she parried a sword, ducked under a knife, and deflected a flying fist with her forearm. Her movements were a seamless flow—each strike, dodge, and counter deliberate, efficient. But their sheer numbers began to overwhelm her.
She delivered a spinning kick to one opponent's temple, sending him sprawling, but another immediately closed the gap, slashing a blade that grazed her arm. Eliza hissed in pain. Her movements began to slow as fatigue gnawed at her limbs.
"This is getting ridiculous," she muttered.
Realizing the odds were against her, she pivoted and broke into a sprint, darting through the gaps in the attackers. Blades swung and missed as she weaved through the chaos, her boots pounding against the cracked ground. One man dove for her, and she vaulted cleanly over his back, rolling to her feet before bursting into a full sprint down a narrow alley.
The masked men pursued her, their shouts echoing off the walls. Eliza's heart pounded as she ducked through shadowed passages, finally skidding to a halt in a crumbling alcove hidden beneath debris. She pressed her back against the wall, chest heaving as she caught her breath.
Closing her eyes, she whispered an incantation. The telepathy spell hummed to life.
"Ethan, are you good?"
The response came almost immediately, Ethan's voice laced with exertion. "I'm okay," he said, dodging the swing of an axe and slamming his fist into the attacker's forehead with bone-crunching force. "I'm just a little occupied at the moment."
"But you've not been captured, right?"
Ethan let out a breathless chuckle as he sliced through two attackers in a single, smooth stroke with his energy blade. "These people aren't strong enough to hold me."
Eliza smirked faintly. "For someone who wasn't able to beat shifters yesterday, you've grown rather cocky."
"Can we talk later? I'll meet you back at the castle."
"Okay, be safe."
"I will."
Ethan stepped back, his breathing steadying. He glanced at Gregory, who rubbed his freed wrists, trying to shake off the stiffness.
"Shall we?" Ethan asked, his blade gleaming faintly in the dark.
Gregory smirked. "Let's…"
They charged together. Ethan led the assault, slashing wide arcs with his energy blade, its glow illuminating the darkened room like a beacon. The first man fell with a strangled cry, his weapon clattering to the floor. Gregory moved beside him, his fists quick and precise. He disarmed an attacker, flipping him onto his back with a grunt before landing a brutal knee strike to his ribs.
Ethan ducked under a swing and spun, his blade carving cleanly through the air. Two men fell simultaneously, their cries cut short. Another lunged at Gregory, who sidestepped effortlessly, grabbed the man's arm, and wrenched it backward until a sickening pop echoed through the room.
More attackers flooded in, but Ethan and Gregory moved like a well-oiled machine. Ethan's energy blade sang through the air, leaving glowing trails in its wake. Gregory fought with a raw, brutal efficiency—every punch, kick, and throw aimed to incapacitate.
Finally, the last man collapsed, groaning.
Gregory exhaled and glanced at Ethan with a tired smile. "Not bad."
Ethan grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."
They sprinted out of the building, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat inside.
Eliza's voice echoed in Ethan's mind. "Are you out?"
"Yes, I am."
"And Greg?"
"He's with me."
"I'll send coordinates to my location to your head now. Standby."
Ethan groaned. "I'd prefer it if you stayed out of my head, but sure, go ahead."
---
The trio reunited under a dense canopy of trees. Gregory smirked as he spotted Eliza crouched among the bushes.
"So, any particular reason why you're in the bushes, or do you just love the smell of leaves?"
"Shut up," Eliza muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Let's get back to the castle and plan our next move in the war against the shifters," she said.
Gregory grinned. "Oh, the war's still going on? I really hoped you would've won by now."
"Maybe we would've if you weren't too busy goofing around and actually helping us," Ethan snapped.
"Come on, you know I wouldn't make much of a difference in the fight."
"Enough!" Eliza's tone brooked no argument. "Let's just get back."
---
When they reached the castle, the sight before them froze them in place.
Weird flags—dark, unfamiliar symbols emblazoned on them—draped the walls. Shifters moved freely in and out of the castle gates, unchallenged.
Eliza stepped forward instinctively, her face pale. "What's going on?"
Ethan grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Can't you see? We can't go back there. The shifters must've used our absence to take over the castle. When we left, the castle was without its leader and that made it vulnerable. Even with you and I, our soldiers struggled to keep up. Without us, they must've been overwhelmed. We have to find somewhere else to stay."
Eliza's voice shook with frustration. "We can't just abandon the castle."
Ethan looked grim. "We couldn't take down the shifters with the help of our soldiers. I don't think we'll have better luck without them."
"We should never have left to save Gregory," Eliza whispered bitterly. "They wanted us to leave so they could take over and we did just that. I should've stayed behind to watch over my kingdom."
"It's not your fault. We can still fix this." Ethan said, turning to her. "So what do we do now?"
Eliza stared at the castle, her fists clenched. For the first time, her voice faltered.
"I don't know."