The first adventurer didn't scream.
That was what stuck with me, more than the armor or the weird shoulder sigils or the way she slid through the mossline like someone who'd memorized our terrain map in a language we didn't even know existed.
She just moved. Fast. Quiet.
Then the golem cracked.
Golem 7 wasn't one of our best. His left limb was fused weird from the mosscore burn and his targeting rune still glitched sometimes, but he was sturdy. Reliable.
She dropped him in under twelve seconds. Didn't even draw blood.
Just slipped past a snare glyph, jammed something into his anchor point, and twisted.
The stone cracked like it was exhaling.
"Golem 7 down," came the relay. Quicktongue's voice. Flat. Focused. No panic.
Good.
But not great.
The system pinged like it was trying to be helpful and failing:
[Outer Defense Unit Breached – Sector C1]
[Adversary Classification: Mid-Tier Adventurer – Coordinated Movement Detected]
[System Note: Current Tactical Outcome = Sustainable (Margin: Narrow)]
I closed the overlay.
"Splitjaw," I said, turning from the trenchline. "Send reinforcement unit two to C1. Staggered pathing, no cluster formations. And rotate Embergleam's squad one ridge up—put her above the fallback trench."
"Done," he said, already moving.
I stayed where I was for another twenty seconds. Just breathing.
Then I stepped forward.
I wasn't wearing armor. I wasn't glowing. The Sovereign's First Flame was sheathed across my back like a torch someone forgot to light.
But the flame moved with me.
Not literally. The pressure followed.
Like something under the dirt had stopped holding its breath.
Sector C looked worse up close.
Moss had been shredded by directional mana bursts. Two traps had already been sprung. One trench wall had partial collapse from shock impact. No one was panicking. But no one was relaxed either.
I stepped into formation. Didn't say anything.
A pair of younger guards shifted closer together. One glanced my way. The other reached for his weapon with shaking hands.
I nodded once.
The shaking slowed.
Hoarder passed overhead—literally. He'd scaled a ridge above the fight and was moving in that twitchy scout-hopping way he did when something was more important than explaining it.
He gave me a hand signal. Three fingers up. One down.
Three targets. One fallen.
I tapped the ground with a claw and passed the same signal back, then moved forward to the edge of the trench.
No dramatic speeches. No sovereign monologue.
I wasn't here to inspire.
I was here because this place needed someone to stand in the mud and mean it.
I saw her before she saw me.
The adventurer. Mid-height, cloaked, lightfoot pattern. No visible armor, but that meant nothing. Her steps barely dented the ground and she moved like she'd rehearsed the terrain—either a scout or a rogue, probably hybrid-class.
One of the younger guards lunged—too early. She spun with clean precision. Steel flashed. His spear flew wide. His shoulder caught the blade. He dropped, wheezing, still alive—but barely holding on.
I didn't think.
I moved.
I cut left, slipped down the incline, and drew the Sovereign's First Flame.
The weapon came alive before I touched it fully—heat coiling up my spine like a slow exhale from the deep earth.
The rogue turned.
She didn't smile.
Neither did I.
We closed the gap in five steps.
First clash—steel against stone-forged relic. Her shortblade sparked. I angled low, tried to sweep. She dodged back, flipped her grip, lunged again.
She was fast.
I was smaller.
That helped.
Her second strike came in low. I blocked too late. Her blade nicked across my shoulder—burning line, shallow cut. Not enough to stop me.
But enough to wake the system.
[Wound Registered – Sovereign Sync Confirmed]
[Relic Threshold Crossed – Flame Resonance Increasing (11%)]
[Local Morale Boost Triggered – Units Within 12m Gain Minor Resistance Buff]
I didn't know what any of that felt like.
But the heat behind me surged—not pain or pressure. Conviction.
Someone shouted behind me.
We were still in this.
She came in again. This time I didn't block. I dropped. Let her overextend. Rolled, came up beneath her line, and jabbed with the flat of the Flame. Not ideal—wrong angle, wrong form—but it was enough.
She staggered.
I pressed forward, swept wide.
She dodged—
And stepped onto a golem glyph.
Stonehands erupted.
They didn't grab her. Too slow.
But the terrain shifted under her feet, and she fell.
I moved to end it.
Stopped.
She was staring up at me. Not scared. Not angry.
Just… tired.
And young.
Not a kid. But close.
Her mouth opened. Voice low.
"This isn't what we were told."
I blinked.
That was all she got before one of ours hit her with a sling bolt to the head. Not fatal. Not kind either.
She dropped unconscious.
I stepped back. Breath shaking. Shoulder bleeding. Flame humming.
Splitjaw reached me half a minute later.
"You okay?"
"No," I said.
He nodded. "Still standing, though."
"Barely."
"Counts."
He looked down at the adventurer.
"She dead?"
"No. Take her to the cell. She's done."
"Your call."
It wasn't a question. It was trust.
System pinged again.
[Sector C Stabilized – Enemy Withdrawal Detected]
[Engagement Phase One: Complete]
[Warning: Raid Progressing – Opponent Tactics Recalculating]
I looked down at my claws.
They were shaking.