The street was split in two.

  Houses overturned. Doors ripped from their hinges. Shards of glass scattered across the ground, crunching beneath boots. The air smelled of burned wood and damp iron. Distant screams tangled with the uneven clash of steel.

  Kael was the first to step into the intersection.

  A figure lunged from behind a fallen post, thrusting low. Kael twisted too late, the blade grazing the fabric at his side.

  The enemy never finished the motion.

  A sword pierced through his collarbone from behind with surgical precision.

  Eldric withdrew the weapon with the same calm others might use to pull aside a curtain.

  “Hold the center,” he said without raising his voice.

  Kael clenched his jaw and nodded.

  From the right, Elira advanced in a diagonal line, cutting the distance before two attackers could flank them. Her blade traced a clean arc. One fell with his throat opened. The other tried to retreat.

  Kael intercepted him.

  This time, he calculated better.

  High block. Knee to the abdomen. A shove backward. A short cut to the side to finish it.

  Eldric watched the angle.

  That movement.

  He recognized it.

  He hadn’t taught it directly to Kael.

  He had taught it to her.

  A third enemy charged with an improvised axe. The impact against Kael’s blade forced him back two steps.

  Elira stepped in without looking.

  “Left flank.”

  Kael lowered his guard just enough to let her pass. Their movements locked together as if rehearsed for years.

  Eldric shifted behind them. He didn’t seem to intervene. He adjusted.

  When an attacker tried to exploit the space between mother and son, Eldric’s cane-blade caught the man’s wrist in a sharp twist. The joint gave. A second strike to the temple ended it.

  They spoke only when necessary.

  They moved like an old mechanism grinding back to life after years of stillness.

  A larger group emerged from the southern corner.

  Five.

  Disorganized—but numerous.

  Kael surged forward. Elira followed, covering his back. Eldric remained half a step behind.

  One of the enemies feinted toward Elira, then shifted toward Kael.

  Eldric had already anticipated the change.

  He intercepted the blow with the flat of his blade, redirected the force toward the ground, and in the same motion exposed the attacker’s throat.

  Kael didn’t hesitate.

  He finished what his grandfather had opened.

  Another opponent slammed Elira against a wall. Stone echoed with the impact.

  Kael reacted.

  Eldric was faster.

  A precise pressure against the attacker’s knee unbalanced him just enough for Elira to regain her stance and drive her blade clean through.

  When the last of them fell, the intersection stood clear.

  There was no celebration.

  Only measured breathing.

  Kael wiped the blood from his blade with his sleeve, leaving a dark stain barely visible against the black fabric. He looked at his mother. Then at Eldric. The question came out almost like an order.

  “We have to go after Selene and Lucan.”

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  Elira was already thinking the same—it showed in the way she tightened her grip on the short spear at her side.

  Eldric shook his head slowly. No drama. Just the heavy calm of someone who had already decided.

  “No. Not now.”

  Kael frowned, irritation rising in his chest.

  “What do you mean, not now? They’re out there alone.”

  Eldric met his gaze without wavering.

  “Lucan knows how to fight. And it’s not just that he ‘knows.’ When he enters that state… he becomes someone else.”

  He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully.

  “I’ve seen many good fighters in my life. I’ve trained some of them. But with Lucan, it’s different. When the fight becomes real—when there’s no room left for doubt or for thinking about what comes after—he shuts down inside.”

  There’s no uncontrolled rage. No fear. Only precision. Every strike measured. Every movement necessary. Nothing wasted.

  “And that makes him… lethal. More than most can imagine.”

  Kael tightened his grip on his sword, blood still clinging to the steel.

  “And Selene? She’s not like him.”

  Eldric nodded slowly.

  “She doesn’t need to be. She has her own fire. And in the middle of chaos, she’ll be safer beside him than with any of us right now.”

  Elira looked at him, anger mixed with reluctant respect.

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  Eldric didn’t answer immediately. His eyes drifted toward the center of the kingdom, where columns of black smoke climbed into the sky.

  “I’m not wrong about this,” he said at last. “I’ve seen it. When the world narrows down to survive or die, Lucan doesn’t hesitate. And Selene…” A faint breath left him. “She seems to be just like you. She’ll learn quickly.”

  Kael stepped forward, still tense.

  “So we just leave them out there?”

  “We’re not leaving them,” Eldric corrected. “They chose to be there. And right now, that’s the safest place for them. Here—” he gestured broadly to the damaged house beside them “—there are families who didn’t choose. Elderly. Children. Wounded. People who don’t know how to fight. They need us more than Lucan and Selene need us right now.”

  The air grew heavy between them.

  Elira drew a long breath, still holding her spear.

  A child’s cry broke from inside the half-collapsed house.

  Eldric didn’t look away from Kael.

  “If we chase the strongest, we leave the defenseless exposed.”

  Elira held her father’s gaze.

  Then she nodded.

  “We secure this zone and push north in blocks.”

  Eldric approved with a slight gesture.

  Kael inhaled deeply.

  Frustration burned in his chest—but so did understanding.

  Without another word, they entered the house.

  Flames were beginning to climb the beams.

  And there were still people trapped inside.

  Meanwhile, Lucan was running.

  Too fast.

  Every second spent away from the center felt like a loss. It wasn’t just the rising noise—metal clashing, controlled explosions.

  Something was pulling him from within.

  It wasn’t only because he knew the capital was falling. Because Alaric would be at the heart of it.

  It was an echo.

  He had felt it the moment he left the hill—when the seal on his back pulsed once more. Not with pain. Not as a warning.

  As a call.

  A low, steady pulse. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t his.

  It didn’t come from his chest.

  It came from the center of Valthera.

  Each step in that direction made the echo clearer. As if something ancient, buried beneath the city, was calling him.

  Lucan clenched his teeth.

  He didn’t know what it was.

  Didn’t know if it was a trap, a fractured memory, or something worse.

  But he felt it.

  And the farther he moved from the center, the stronger the internal resistance became—a pull tightening around his chest, urging him to turn back and run the other way. As if his body knew going there was dangerous…

  And still needed it.

  Selene ran beside him, breathing hard, trying to keep pace.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, voice cut by effort.

  Lucan didn’t look at her.

  “The center.”

  “For Alaric?”

  He hesitated a second.

  “Not just for him.”

  Selene frowned, but didn’t press further.

  She saw it in his expression. This wasn’t just loyalty.

  Something was dragging him forward.

  The seal pulsed again. Stronger.

  A deep echo—almost audible.

  Lucan accelerated.

  Not because he wanted to save anyone.

  But because he felt that if he didn’t reach it soon…

  Whatever was calling him would break.

  Or break him.

  And there was no ignoring it anymore.

  A broken sound cut through the chaos.

  A cry.

  Sharp. Desperate.

  Selene turned toward a side alley.

  Lucan kept moving.

  “Lucan.”

  He didn’t slow.

  The cry came again.

  Selene stopped completely.

  “Lucan!”

  Louder this time.

  He turned, irritation contained in his eyes.

  “We can’t divert.”

  She pointed toward the alley.

  “There’s someone.”

  One instant.

  Only one.

  Lucan measured the distance to the center. Then the smoke pouring from the alley.

  His jaw tightened.

  He changed direction.

  The narrow passage was partially collapsed. A beam had fallen, blocking the exit of a small house.

  A man was trying to lift it with bloodied hands. Beside him, a woman shielded two children.

  One was crying. The little girl stood frozen, trembling.

  A shadow dropped from the fractured roof.

  A subordinate.

  The father didn’t see him.

  Lucan did.

  He didn’t shout a warning.

  He moved.

  The blade traced a direct, clean line. The enemy hit the ground before fully landing.

  Blood splashed across the wall.

  The father staggered back in shock.

  Selene was already beside the woman, clearing debris.

  “Get them out first,” she ordered.

  Lucan lifted the beam with the father’s help. The weight shifted just enough for Selene to guide the children through.

  Another crack.

  The roof was giving way.

  Lucan exited last.

  When they reached the main street, the father dropped to his knees, struggling for air.

  The little girl clung to her mother.

  The older boy stared at Lucan.

  Not with fear.

  With something harder to define.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Simple. Direct.

  Lucan went still.

  The sound felt strange.

  As if it hadn’t been meant for him.

  Selene glanced at him.

  The boy repeated it, firmer.

  “Thank you.”

  Lucan opened his mouth. Closed it.

  He had nothing prepared for that.

  He gave a small nod.

  “Head west. Find the guards.”

  His tone was dry—but not harsh.

  The boy didn’t look away as they left.

  Lucan began running again.

  Selene followed a second later.

  “Thank you for stopping,” she said quietly.

  Lucan didn’t answer.

  They ran a few seconds more.

  “Does it bother you? Being thanked?”

  He didn’t respond immediately.

  The noise from the center was closer now.

  “I’m not used to it.”

  Selene didn’t push.

  An explosion echoed a few streets away.

  Lucan picked up speed.

  This time, she didn’t stop him.

  But before turning the corner toward the central district, Selene looked back.

  The family was gone.

  Only smoke rising into the gray sky remained.

  And somewhere in that city, a boy had just stored a memory he didn’t yet understand would one day matter.

  End of Chapter 17