Barrowford came into view before the forest road truly ended.

Not its walls, but its smoke.

Black plumes rose from several parts of the city, carried by the wind and merging into a dull layer above the rooftops. A warning bell rang without rhythm in the distance. Sometimes it sounded in quick succession, only to stop abruptly before tolling again with a rough pull, as though the person holding the rope kept changing because the previous pair of hands could no longer move.

Beneath the tolling bell, human screams overlapped one another.

The attack on Barrowford was not over.

The horse beneath us grew restless. Its ears flattened, its stride shortened, and white foam gathered at the corners of its mouth as the smell of the city reached us on the wind.

Blood, smoke, burning timber, freshly disturbed earth, and spilled entrails blended into one stench. Beneath it all lingered the scent of something that had been buried for a long time, then forced back into the open air.

I stood low behind Alden, gripping the edge of the saddle as the horse crossed the muddy road. My evolved body could no longer be easily hidden behind a human’s back. My black claws left small punctures in the leather every time the horse flinched.

All my combat Vassals followed behind us, spread in a loose formation along the road leading into the city.

Humans fled Barrowford while something else entered from beneath it.

Alden slowed the horse when an overturned cart blocked half the road. One of its wheels was still turning slowly, even though the wind was nowhere near strong enough to move it.

Two bodies lay nearby.

An old man and a young woman.

The man’s chest had been opened from his throat to his stomach. His ribs had been forced apart, leaving an empty cavity behind them.

The woman beside him had not suffered the same wound. Her body no longer moved. A trail of blood stretched from the bushes to her feet, while her fingernails were broken and her mouth was packed with dirt. She had tried to claw at the road when something attempted to drag her away.

There was no heart near the man’s body.

It had not been eaten there.

It had been taken.

I sent my voice through the relay.

‘Keep moving.’

Alden pulled the reins and guided the horse around the side of the cart.

The closer we came to Barrowford, the more people emerged from the smoke and mist. A woman ran past carrying a small child whose entire cheek was smeared with blood. Two men carried a door between them as a makeshift stretcher, with a guard lying across it and three gaping claw wounds torn through his stomach. Another group of townspeople moved in the opposite direction, carrying buckets, cloth, axes, crowbars, and anything else that could still be used to extinguish a fire or strike something.

There were no organized lines and no central command. Everyone moved because someone nearby was shouting louder than the rest.

A man emerged from an alley carrying an unconscious child. Behind him, two other townspeople struggled to hold shut a house door that kept bucking under blows from below. On the opposite side of the street, two guards tried to lift a fallen beam off one of their comrades.

The beam shifted.

The body beneath it did not.

Then the people noticed us.

The nearest townsfolk screamed. One of the stretcher bearers released his grip, sending the wounded guard rolling into the mud. A young man drew a short knife from his belt, though his hand shook too violently to hold it properly.

Their eyes did not linger on Alden.

They fixed on Bloodhorn and the two purple-eyed Orcs walking behind us.

“Those are Orcs!”

“Keep them away from us!”

“Monsters!”

Panic traveled faster than explanation.

Someone snatched a stone from the road and threw it at Bloodhorn. It bounced off his bone armor without provoking a reaction, but that only frightened the crowd further.

I sent a single pressure through every connection.

‘Ignore them.’

None of the Vassals retaliated.

Bloodhorn lowered the head of his axe into the mud. The two Orc Warriors stopped walking, the Goblin Leader withdrew half a step behind the cart, and Deadeye lowered his bow.

Alden raised one hand.

“They’re being controlled!”

Not everyone heard him. Or perhaps they heard and simply did not care.

“Don’t come any closer!” a guard shouted.

“They didn’t come here to attack you,” Alden replied. “Lower your weapons and clear the way.”

A house beside the road shuddered, cutting off the argument before it could become something even more foolish.

Not the walls.

The floor.

A scream erupted from inside.

“Below us!” someone shouted. “They’re still below us!”

The floorboards bowed upward. Dust burst from the gaps, then a pale hand punched through the wood. Black claws hooked over the edge of the opening.

The floor broke apart.

CRASH!

A gaunt creature forced its way through.

Its body resembled a human left rotting underground for far too long, but its arms were too long and its shoulders sloped unnaturally forward. Gray skin clung tightly to its bones, while its fingers ended in broad claws packed with dirt and splinters.

It did not stand upright. The creature crawled out in broken, jerking movements, then seized the leg of a woman still trapped inside the house.

The woman fell, her head striking the floor.

A second creature emerged behind it, followed by a third. One of them began dragging a child out from beneath a table.

The townspeople in the street scattered in every direction.

I leaped from the saddle and landed lightly in the mud.

‘Bloodhorn, hold the road.’

‘Orcs, protect Alden.’

‘Kobold, inside.’

The commands spread through the connections.

Bloodhorn stepped forward and blocked the space between the house and the main road. The two Orc Warriors positioned themselves in front of the horse, while the Kobold Vassal shot through the open doorway.

I followed.

I focused Analytical Perception on the creature gripping the woman’s leg.

[Target: Grave Gnawer]
[Category: Ghoul]

The Grave Gnawer still held the woman by the ankle. Its mouth opened wide, revealing short teeth worn down by stone and bone.

I avoided its jaws, then raked my claws across its arm from the side.

SHRAK!

The tendon behind its elbow snapped. Strength fled the limb, and its grip slipped from the woman’s leg.

The Grave Gnawer turned, but I had already passed it.

My left claws struck the back of its knee. The joint folded in the wrong direction, forcing the creature down onto one leg. It twisted and reached for me, but I jumped onto a broken table before its claws swept through empty air.

From the higher position, I lunged downward and buried both sets of claws into the side of its neck.

I pulled.

Flesh opened and dark blood sprayed across the floorboards. The Grave Gnawer staggered just as the Goblin Leader appeared beneath a shattered window.

His serrated blade struck the side of the monster’s head.

CRACK!

The body collapsed.

The second creature was still dragging the child toward the hole in the floor. The child clung to a table leg with both hands, nails peeling away as the monster continued pulling.

The Kobold Vassal slammed into the Grave Gnawer from the side. They rolled across the broken boards. The Kobold’s claws opened the creature’s flank, but the Grave Gnawer answered by smashing its head into the floor.

Once.

Twice.

The Vassal connection trembled.

I lunged.

‘Abyssal Claw.’

Black-purple mana covered my right claws. Dark blades extended from their tips and severed the Grave Gnawer’s arm at the shoulder in a single slash.

The creature twisted with a wet roar. Its remaining claw swept toward my face, but I ducked and let it pass over my ears.

Abyssal Claw pierced the side of its chest, slipped between the ribs, and burst out through its back.

The Grave Gnawer froze.

I withdrew my claws and let it fall.

The Kobold Vassal rose again. The side of its head was cracked, but the damage was not enough to stop it.

The child still clung to the table leg. When I turned, the child stared back at me with eyes stretched too wide before screaming.

Understandable.

I did not have time to appear harmless.

‘Alden. Take the survivors.’

Alden dismounted and entered with two townspeople who had finally gathered enough courage to approach after seeing the Grave Gnawers fall.

The third creature had already escaped through the rear of the house.

I chased it past the wide hole in the floor and followed its trail of blood toward the back door.

When I stepped outside, Barrowford revealed the full extent of its wounds.

The main road was littered with broken carts, buckets, cloth, weapons, and bodies. Several houses had enormous holes torn through their floors, while others had partially collapsed after their foundations were excavated from below. Flames licked across the roof of an inn. Townspeople formed a bucket line on one side of the road, while guards on the other struggled to contain two Grave Gnawers climbing out of a well.

Screams rose from beneath the houses, followed by the sound of someone pounding against the wall of an underground room. Near the crossroads, a guard continued blowing his whistle even as blood filled his mouth. A family knelt in the middle of the street, turning over fallen bodies in search of faces they recognized.

Barrowford was not dead.

The city was being eaten while still conscious.