The wind clawed at him the more as he walked further onto the fourth floor, whistling through the shattered husk of the building as if the tower itself were breathing. Dust swirled in restless eddies, stinging his eyes and carrying with it the faint, metallic tang of blood from below. The air was colder here, touched by the open night, though it did nothing to ease the sweat that clung to his back beneath his shirt. He stood at the threshold of ruin and stared ahead at the broken wall.
The entire side of the structure had collapsed outward, its fractured bricks and snapped beams leaning into the husk of the neighboring building. The ruin formed a jagged, makeshift bridge between the two, a tilted path of cracked stone and rubble barely wide enough for a desperate crossing. The sight of it set Kael's stomach twisting. Every fragment of stone was loose, every step promised to crumble beneath him, and the gap below yawned wide. Four stories down, the street stretched like a grave, ready to receive him. A fall here would break him, if not kill him outright.
Yet behind him, from the stairwell, came the unmistakable screeches of pursuit. High and shrill, eager cries that pierced the air and rose in unison as the goblins reached the floor below. Their claws scraped against the stone, eager and restless. He had only moments.
Kael pressed his lips into a hard line, shifted the sledgehammer in his grip, and placed one foot on the slanting wall. The rubble shifted under his weight, pebbles scattering into the void below, clicking and bouncing against the stone until silence swallowed them. His heart clenched at the sound, his imagination conjuring the image of his own body following the same path. But there was no time to dwell. He leaned forward, bent his knees, and sprinted.
Each stride sent new fragments tumbling into the dark. His boots slipped on a patch of loose dust, and he flung his arm wide to steady himself, the hammer dragging his balance with its heavy pull. His teeth ground together as his body tilted dangerously toward the abyss, but momentum carried him forward, and at last his foot struck solid stone on the opposite side. He stumbled into the safety of the neighboring building, his knees nearly buckling with relief.
The respite was brief.
Three goblins burst from the stairwell just as he cleared the bridge, their gaunt frames silhouetted against the broken wall. Their eyes gleamed with a hungry light, their jaws hanging open as shrieks tore from their throats. One raised a crude stone axe, muscles tense with rage, and hurled it across the gap. Kael's instincts flared, he ducked low, the axe spinning above him with a harsh whistle before clattering into the rubble behind.
They had learned quickly. He would not be felled by a thrown weapon, not so easily.
The trio wasted no more time. Screaming with manic fervor, they sprinted across the crumbling bridge, their clawed feet scattering chunks of stone as they charged headlong at him. Kael's arms tensed, lifting the sledgehammer, but he did not swing. Several thoughts crossed his mind, the first which he immediately discarded was to break the bridge. He didn't know how many blows it would take to fell such a structure. The second to fight here in a standoff. His only way out. But that also came with risks.
His breath caught, his mind calculating with desperate precision. He had learned through long hours of labor what weight and momentum truly meant. The hammer was power, yes, but it was also a burden. A single reckless swing would drain him, leave his arms heavy, his body open. Against one enemy, it would suffice. Against three, it was death. He needed to make one blow and make it count, as he probably can't recover in time to swing again, not to mention swing three times.
He glanced down. A loose piece of brick lay at his feet, jagged and sharp where it had broken free from the wall. His eyes flicked up to the oncoming goblins, their faces twisted in ravenous hunger, and the plan formed without hesitation.
"Eat shit," Kael muttered, his voice a dry rasp beneath the howl of the wind.
He timed it to the heartbeat. The first goblin surged ahead of the others, mouth wide, claws reaching as though to drag him down. Kael snapped his boot forward, punting the jagged brick into the creature's snarling face. The impact landed with a dull crack, sharp edges splitting skin and bone. The goblin recoiled, its eyes squeezed shut as it stumbled mid-step.
It was enough.
The stagger slowed the first, forced the second and third to bunch up tight on either side as they pressed onto the narrow span. For the briefest instant, they were aligned, their bodies locked in a cluster of clawed limbs and snarling jaws.
Kael surged forward, hammer raised high to the side like a baseball bat. His arms burned as he swung with every ounce of strength he possessed, the weight of the sledgehammer carrying the blow in a brutal arc. The head of the hammer connected with the first goblin's arm, crushing bone and tearing through its ribs in a sickening cascade of cracks. The momentum did not stop there, the sheer torque of the strike carried through, colliding with the second creature's side in a spray of shattered flesh. The force rippled outward, slamming into the third and sending all three tumbling together.
Their screams pierced the night as their bodies toppled from the bridge, limbs flailing against the void. They struck the street below with a chorus of sickening thuds, bone snapping under their weight. Silence followed, broken only by the fading echoes of stone dislodged in their fall.
Kael stood on the edge, chest heaving, the hammer trembling faintly in his grip. His arms felt leaden, his shoulders aflame from the effort, but his stance held. Sweat trickled down his temple, mixing with the grime and the goblin blood that had already painted his skin. His ears rang from the exertion and the shrieks, yet beneath it all was a fierce, trembling relief.
He had made his stand. He had survived.
But the Tower was vast, its depths unending. And even as silence reclaimed the ruined building, Kael knew with bitter certainty that this victory was only the first of countless more to come.