The five Monster Kings tore into existence as if reality had spat them out.
For half a breath, they were disoriented. Their claws scraped at air that did not match the wind they expected. Their senses reached for familiar landmarks and found only an endless field under a foreign sky.
Then Lucien's allies moved.
The human woman struck first. Hesitation was a luxury she did not possess. A flare snapped from her palm, condensed into a fist of heat. She crossed the distance in a blink and drove it into the nearest goblin's chest before his footing fully recovered.
The impact rang like a bell.
The goblin slid backward. His boots carved grooves into the earth, and his laugh came out as a rasping hiss.
"So eager," he crooned. "Little embers still pretending to be suns."
Around them, the other captives reacted the way survivors did.
They did not waste time asking questions. They moved to kill what would otherwise kill them.
