[The Outer District — The Streets]
The monsters arrived at the door.
The foundation groaned under a second, heavier impact. The world lurched violently. The heavy oak table jumped. Hot stew spilled across the flagstones.
Mina's wooden spoon clattered to the floor. All color drained from her small face.
"Papa?" she whimpered. Her voice trembled in the sudden dark.
Jonas sprang to his feet. His chair crashed backward. The dormant instincts of his conscription days snapped into place. This was no ritual. This was a mountain-shattering.
"Stay here! Elara, do not move from this table!" he ordered.
He lunged for the window. He threw back the heavy wooden shutters.
His breath hitched in his throat. The night was gone.
A screaming emerald sky replaced it. The Outer District was the sprawling home of half a million souls. Now, a massive wall of green fire swallowed it. The fire did not flicker naturally. It roared with a hungry malice.
Jonas looked down. The familiar street was a chaotic slaughterhouse. A river of screaming humanity choked the narrow road. People trampled each other in the mud.
He watched, paralyzed. His neighbor of twenty years ran blindly. Old man Hareth clutched his walking cane. A thick fog of green mist rolled along the cobblestones. It moved like a predatory tide.
The fog touched Hareth's ankles. The old man did not just trip. He collapsed and clawed at his own throat. His eyes bulged. His skin blistered into horrific black pustules. His screams turned into wet gurgles. He dissolved into the cobblestones in seconds.
"By the Six," Jonas gasped. His soul turned to ice. "It's not fire. It's a plague."
"Jonas? What is it? Speak to me!" Elara demanded. She grabbed his shoulder.
She looked out over the windowsill. A sound of pure terror tore from her throat. It was a primal, ear-piercing shriek.
"Ahhhhhh!!!"
"Get the emergency satchel!" Jonas barked. The sharp clarity of terror cut through his panic. "Grab Mina! Forget the clothes! Forget the keepsakes! Just grab the coin and the waterskin! Move, Elara! NOW!"
"Papa, I'm scared! I'm scared!" Mina began to wail. Her cries pierced the darkness.
"Elara, move, or we die in this kitchen!" Jonas shouted.
He snatched his woodworking axe from its peg. The wooden handle felt smooth and familiar. But in this sickly light, the steel blade looked like a child's toy. He faced a green horizon of death. He didn't know what he was fighting. But he refused to let his family die unshielded.
He kicked the front door open.
The heat hit him like a physical blow. A heavy miasma of sulfur choked him. The air tasted of rotting crypts and copper.
"To the Middle Wall!" Jonas roared over the din. "The guards will open the gates! They have to let us in!"
They ran.
The street was a vision of hell. An overturned merchant's cart blocked the path. A pinned draft horse kicked in a blind frenzy. Green flames licked up its flanks. The horse shrieked with a tone no animal should produce.
People shoved past the wreckage. Their faces were masks of sheer animalistic desperation. A panicked man shoved Elara. Jonas violently shoved him back with the flat of his axe.
"Help me! My leg is broken! Someone, please!"
Jonas skidded to a halt. He knew that voice. It was Masha, the baker's wife.
She lay trapped beneath a fallen support beam. The wood blazed with green fire. Her legs were crushed beneath the heavy timber. Her eyes were wide and pleading. They reflected the emerald inferno with raw terror.
"Jonas! Thank the Gods!" Masha sobbed. She reached a bloody hand toward him. "Please! The beam is too heavy! I can't feel my legs!"
Jonas stepped toward her. His grip tightened on his axe.
I could lift it, he thought. I just need leverage.
"I have a baby at home, Jonas! Please don't leave me!" she begged. Her voice cracked with agony. The green flames crept closer to her dress.
"Jonas!" Elara screamed.
Her hand clamped onto his arm. She dragged him backward with desperate strength. Mina was buried in her mother's skirts. The child sobbed uncontrollably into the fabric.
"There is no time!" Elara pleaded. Tears streamed down her ash-covered face. "We have to go! If you stop, we will all die! Look!"
She pointed down the alley. The green mist accelerated. It flowed through the narrow passages like rushing water. It nipped at the heels of the fleeing crowd with lethal intent. It turned stragglers into screaming puddles of rot.
Jonas looked at the approaching fog. He looked at his weeping daughter.
He turned his back on the trapped woman.
"I'm sorry," Jonas whispered. The roaring fire swallowed his words.
"Jonas! NO!" Masha shrieked.
Her final scream echoed in his ears. The thunderous collapse of her burning roof abruptly silenced her.
Jonas risked a glance upward. His heart stopped entirely.
A figure of pure darkness stood atop a nearby rooftop. It was silhouetted against the screaming green sky. It was a skeleton draped in tattered rags.
This was no mindless undead from a nursery rhyme. It stood with the aristocratic poise of a conqueror inspecting a slaughterhouse. Its hollow eye sockets burned with a hateful purple light.
The creature slowly raised a skeletal finger. It pointed directly at their street.
"RUN!" Jonas roared.
He scooped Mina up. He ignored her screams and threw her over his shoulder. The building beside them detonated. It erupted into a shower of wooden splinters and emerald flames.
"DON'T LOOK BACK! ELARA, JUST RUN!"
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Authers note
"Hi everyone!
I'm excited to let you know that the next 3 chapters are free on my Patreon. I've updated my schedule to 5-7 chapters per week because I'm committed to this.
On Patreon, you'll always get 3 chapters ahead of the webnovel free chapters. Every chapter will eventually be free, and you'll also find a visual for each chapter.
Don't worry – I'll continue posting chapters here regularly. However, if you'd like to support the continuation of this story and gain access to 15 advanced chapters, along with exclusive extra chapters and side stories. You're welcome to visit my Patreon.
Of course, you're always welcome to continue reading for free here as well. Either way, your support — whether free or paid — truly means a lot. Thank you so much for being part of this journey with me!"
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