Lucien charged the first orc head-on, his blade flashing in the dim light. His strikes were quick and precise, targeting the creature's legs to cripple its movement.
Above, Hassan activated his skill.
[Skill: Windwalker]
The archer ran straight up the wall of a building, his boots leaving faint trails of swirling wind. In just a few steps he was on the rooftops, moving with impossible grace. From above, his arrows rained down, forcing the orcs to spread out.
Lucien's first target fell to one knee, blood spilling from its thigh, but the orc snarled, slamming its shield into place and blocking Lucien's next strike. A second orc joined the fray, swinging its crude axe in wide, brutal arcs.
Two against one.
Lucien tightened his grip.
Meanwhile, on the rooftops, Hassan drew a deep breath and began charging his next skill.
[Skill: Penitent Arrow]
A brilliant green aura enveloped the arrowhead. The air around him shimmered, crackling with condensed mana. The skill demanded everything, every drop of focus and energy he had left.
"Now…" Hassan whispered.
He released.
The arrow cut through the air like a beam of light. A sonic crack echoed across the district. The projectile tore straight through one orc's chest, reducing it to ash on impact before punching a crater into the street below. The shockwave hurled debris in every direction.
The second orc staggered, howling in pain from the explosion's edge. Lucien didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, driving his blade deep into the creature's skull. It collapsed in a heap of dust and blood.
Hassan sprinted across the rooftops, searching for a new vantage point. From above, he fired again and again, targeting orcs that had begun attacking scattered civilians and lower-ranked Hunters.
"Hold the line!" Lucien shouted. "Form up and protect the people!"
The Hunters rallied, forming a rough defensive line across the street. The three remaining orcs and their leader turned toward them, their armor glinting red in the firelight.
The orc leader, a towering brute almost three meters tall, bearing a double-headed axe, let out a guttural roar and gestured to his warriors. The monsters charged.
The clash was deafening. Metal met metal, flesh met steel. Lucien led from the front, parrying, slashing, kicking everything to try keeping their formation intact as long as he could. Slowly, step by step, he drove the orcs back toward an alleyway... finally a dead end.
"They won't reach the civilians here," he thought.
The battle raged on for hours. Every Hunter bled. Every breath hurt. The air was thick with smoke and exhaustion.
Then... the orc leader roared again, furious. He had understood. It was Lucien who had trapped them here.
He charged.
Lucien braced himself, crossing his blade and remains of one of the orcs shield to block, but the impact was devastating. The force of the blow sent him flying through a shopfront, through a wall, and into a collapsed building.
Dust and debris buried him. Everything went black.
On the street, Hassan kept firing, but the orcs raised their shields, advancing step by step. Without Lucien's orders, the line began to crumble.
Under the rubble, Lucien stirred. Blood ran down his face, warm and sticky. His vision blurred. He looked down at his blade... cracked, bent and nearly useless.
[Skill: Appraisal]
Weapon durability: critical. Severe structural damage.
He let out a low breath. "Figures…"
Lucien reached behind his back, drawing his second sword. He rose to his feet, staggering toward the hole in the wall where faint moonlight bled through.
Through the gap, he saw the orc leader... its back turned, towering over the others.
Lucien's eyes hardened.
He charged.
He drove his first sword into the beast's back, using the momentum to climb higher. The orc howled, twisting in pain. Lucien used the embedded blade as leverage, pulling himself up toward its neck.
He raised his second sword and plunged it downward.
The orc caught the blade mid-strike, gripping it with a massive hand, roaring in defiance.
Lucien bared his teeth, pushing with everything he had. "HAAAAAAAH!"
The steel sank through the monster's palm, through flesh and bone, and into its throat. Blood sprayed across the walls.
The orc staggered backward and both of them tumbling...into the crater Hassan had made hours earlier.
They fell together into the darkness.
Five hours after the onset of the global Breakout crisis.
Inside the private jet, the cabin was quiet. The distant noise of the engines was the only sound that broke through the tension. Mira sat by the window, her gloves still stained with soot and blood. Across from her, Renan leaned back, exhaustion plain on his face.
"The United States and China seem to be holding their ground," he said, scrolling through the live reports on his tablet. "Their top guilds mobilized fast. But Europe…"
Mira looked out the window and the faint orange glow of Lyon burned on the horizon."Europe isn't ready for this kind of chaos," she murmured.
Renan nodded grimly. "We've arrived. We should head to the Lyon Rift immediately."
The jet touched down on the tarmac, tires screeching against the cold asphalt. Without a word, Mira stood, reloaded her musket, and adjusted her coat. The members of the Blades of Lyon followed her lead, their faces pale but resolute.
As the aircraft's doors opened, the chill night air rushed in and with it the distant echoes of screams and battle.
"Move out," Mira ordered.
The Blades of Lyon descended the ramp and disappeared into the smoke-filled streets, heading straight toward the heart of the city toward the Rift.