The golem stumbled, its massive foot catching on the uneven cobblestones, and half-fell into a nearby shop, destroying it in a cascade of splintered wood and shattered stone. The crash sent debris flying in every direction, chunks of masonry pelting the street and anyone unfortunate enough to be too close.

  Thorne raised his arms just in time, shielding his face as a barrage of wood fragments and dust battered him. The force of the destruction rattled his bones, but he remained on his feet, his heart pounding in his ears.

  The golem swayed, righting itself quickly, its massive form glowing with the eerie, pulsing light of raw aether. It turned its hollow eyes toward Thorne, aware but not fully intelligent, like a force of nature driven by instinct more than thought.

  Thorne didn't hesitate. He had no time to contemplate the overwhelming power of the creature before him. His instincts kicked in. With a sharp breath, he activated Aether Surge. The familiar rush of power flooded his veins, sharpening his reflexes and heightening his senses, but he kept his aetheric abilities at bay. He didn’t need to attract attention—not yet.

  His Veil Sense pulsed faintly in the back of his mind, alerting him to the creature's level. It was strong, but not insurmountable. Level 30. Six levels below him. He clenched his fists, hope sparking inside him. He had the edge, if only barely. But this thing wasn’t just about levels. The golem was a massive force of destruction, and its strength far outweighed its rank.

  Thorne dashed forward, his Combat Reflexes and Acrobatics taking over as he moved with lightning speed. The golem swung one of its massive arms in his direction, and Thorne ducked low, rolling beneath the colossal limb just in time to avoid being crushed. The impact sent a blast of wind past him, followed by the deafening crack of the golem’s arm smashing into the side of a building, sending debris flying.

  Thorne pushed himself to his feet, dodging the falling rubble as he sprinted toward the golem’s side. His daggers gleamed in the midday light as he aimed for the creature’s legs, hoping to find a weak spot. He slashed at its glowing limbs, his blades cutting through the semi-translucent material, but just like before, they passed through the aetheric energy without solid resistance. The golem didn’t even flinch.

  His mind raced. He couldn’t brute-force this thing down. He had to outmaneuver it.

  The golem let out a low, guttural rumble, its hollow eyes fixed on him. It ripped a wooden beam from one of the half-destroyed shops and swung it like a club, aiming directly for Thorne.

  He barely had time to react, diving to the side as the beam whooshed past him, missing by inches. The force of the swing sent another gust of wind ripping through the street, scattering dust and rubble.

  A sharp pain lanced through Thorne’s side as he hit the ground, a jagged piece of stone slicing into his arm. He hissed in pain, glancing down to see blood seeping through his shirt sleeve. It wasn’t deep, but it hurt like hell. He gritted his teeth and forced himself up, ignoring the throbbing ache.

  The golem, not slowing, slammed the wooden beam into the ground where Thorne had landed, creating a crater in the cobblestones. Splinters and chunks of rock sprayed in all directions, and Thorne barely managed to roll out of the way in time. His Combat Reflexes were the only thing keeping him alive—he was faster, more agile, but he couldn’t take a direct hit. One wrong move, and that beam would crush him into the ground like a fly underfoot.

  His mind flickered with strategies. He had to stay ahead of the golem, using his speed and skills to avoid its devastating attacks. But how long could he keep this up? His stamina was strong, but if the fight dragged on too long, he'd wear out. He needed an edge.

  His eyes darted to the wreckage strewn across the street. Poles, broken crates, and pieces of metal lay scattered everywhere. The debris from the destruction could be used against the golem. He just needed the right moment.

  The golem swung again, and Thorne leapt to the side, landing gracefully atop a pile of rubble. He could feel the creature’s raw strength, the vibrations of its movements pulsing through the ground. But he had something it didn’t—speed and precision.

  Without wasting a second, Thorne launched himself off the pile of rubble, darting behind the golem as it turned to follow him. He slashed at the back of its leg, hoping to weaken its balance, but again, his daggers passed through the swirling mass of energy. Still, the golem stumbled slightly, its massive frame slow to correct itself.

  Suddenly, a wooden pole, flung by the creature’s earlier destruction, came hurtling through the air. Thorne saw it too late. It clipped his shoulder as he dodged, sending a wave of sharp pain down his arm. He hissed, gritting his teeth as he stumbled but quickly regained his footing. His fancy noble clothes were now torn and stained with dust and blood, utterly useless in protecting him.

  He could feel himself slowing down, the constant dodging and darting wearing on his stamina. But the golem wasn’t invincible. Thorne’s Veil Sense told him the creature was strong, yes—but not unbeatable. He just needed to find its weakness.

  The golem took another massive step, sending another shockwave through the ground as its foot slammed into the street. Thorne used his agility to vault over a broken cart, keeping just ahead of the creature’s swings.

  His mind raced. He had to stop it.

  He dashed toward the side of the street, weaving between overturned carts and toppled stalls. He needed to put some distance between himself and the golem, even if only for a moment. The street around him was chaotic—people were still running, pushing past one another in their desperation to escape. A few brave souls remained, trying to pull others to safety, but the sight of the towering creature had most fleeing for their lives.

  Thorne caught a glimpse of the young man he’d saved earlier—the one with spectacles. He was hiding behind a stack of crates near the remnants of a shop, watching Thorne with wide, fascinated eyes. But what caught Thorne’s attention was the small notebook in the man’s hand. Even in the midst of the chaos, he was scribbling something down, his hands shaking but determined.

  Is he writing about the fight?

  Thorne clenched his jaw, his focus shifting back to the golem. There was no time to worry about spectators. He needed to finish this before the golem turned its attention to Jonah’s shop—or crushed more innocent people beneath its feet.

  The golem swung its massive arm, sending another wave of destruction through the street. Thorne dove behind a crumbling stall, using the remaining wood and metal for cover as the ground shook from the impact. The creature was strong, but it was slow, its movements predictable if he stayed focused.

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  He had to be smart about this.

  His eyes flicked toward the creature’s legs, the massive, semi-translucent limbs crackling with unstable energy. His daggers might not have an immediate effect, but if he could weaken its movement, he might be able to find a way to take it down.

  Taking a breath, Thorne dashed toward the golem’s side, his feet light and fast as he zigzagged through the debris. The creature’s massive foot came crashing down again, and Thorne’s instincts kicked in. Thanks to Combat Reflexes, his body moved before his mind even processed the threat. He leaped over the edge of a broken cart, landing in a roll as the ground shook beneath him.

  As he came up, Thorne activated Lethal Flurry. His hands moved in a blur, his daggers slashing in a rapid flurry of strikes. He targeted the creature’s legs, aiming for the glowing lines of aether that held the limbs together. Each blow connected, slicing through the shimmering material with precision. His strikes were fast—too fast for the golem to respond immediately—but the creature’s body, made of pure aether, absorbed the blows without solid resistance.

  Still, the flurry of attacks had an effect. The golem staggered slightly, its movements growing more unstable as the glowing energy in its leg flickered. Thorne gritted his teeth and darted to the side, avoiding the golem’s retaliatory swing. Its massive arm passed inches from his head, crashing into the ground with enough force to send a shockwave through the street.

  Dust and debris filled the air, but Thorne didn’t stop moving. He circled around the golem, his eyes scanning for any opening, any weakness. His Critical Eye kicked in, sharpening his focus. The creature had no vital organs, no clear weak points—but the aetheric energy holding it together was unstable. If he could disrupt that energy, he could bring it down.

  He darted forward, aiming for the golem’s back. His feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted behind the creature, leaping up onto a broken stack of barrels to gain height. Activating Backstab, Thorne plunged his daggers into the golem’s back, aiming for the largest concentration of aetheric energy he could see. His blades sliced through the shimmering material, and for a moment, the golem’s form wavered.

  The creature roared, a low, guttural sound that rattled through the air like thunder. It swung its arm backward, trying to shake Thorne off, but he was already moving, flipping off the golem’s back and landing on the other side of the street. He rolled to his feet, his daggers ready, his breath coming in heavy gasps.

  His attacks were wearing it down, but it wasn’t enough.

  He couldn’t keep this up forever. The creature was relentless, and every time it struck, the destruction spread. Rubble and debris littered the ground, making it harder to move. His stamina was holding for now, but he knew he’d tire out before the golem did. And all the while, the crowd around him was thinning, more people escaping—except for that boy.

  Thorne’s eyes flicked back toward the young man with the notebook. He was still there, hiding behind a stack of crates, his hands shaking but his gaze fixed on the battle. What the hell is he doing?

  “Get out of here!” Thorne shouted, his voice rough from exertion. “It’s not safe!”

  The young man didn’t move. He looked terrified, but something in his expression told Thorne he wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever he was writing, it seemed more important to him than his own safety.

  Damn it.

  Thorne’s focus shifted back to the golem, which was still lumbering toward him, its movements slow but devastating. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. He had to finish this.

  He circled around the creature again, his mind racing. There had to be a way to bring it down without relying on his aetheric abilities. He wasn’t ready to expose everything, not here, not now. But if he didn’t act soon, Jonah’s shop—and the entire merchant quarter—would be reduced to rubble.

  The golem raised its arm for another swing, and Thorne darted forward, slipping beneath its massive limbs. His daggers flashed as he sliced through the aetheric material, aiming for the flickering points of energy that held the creature together. It staggered again, its movements growing slower, less controlled.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Thorne’s heart raced as he searched for a strategy, trying to ignore the pain pulsing through his injured arm. He was fast—faster than the golem—but his constant attacks weren’t enough. Not yet. His mind raced for answers, but before he could fully gather his thoughts, the creature did something unexpected.

  A wave of aether pulsed through the air, and Thorne felt it in his bones—the sudden pull, the surge of energy. The golem was siphoning the ambient aether, pulling in energy from the surroundings. The veins of flickering aether that Thorne had damaged with his earlier attacks began to glow brighter, healing themselves as the creature regained its strength.

  “Damn it,” Thorne muttered under his breath. The thing was healing itself.

  He had to think fast. His attacks had slowed it down, but if it could heal like this, he wouldn’t last much longer.

  Thorne paused for a breath, letting his Aether Vision take over. The world around him shifted into spectral light, and suddenly, the true state of the golem became clear. What looked like an imposing, indestructible force was actually far more fragile than he had thought. Dozens of open wounds covered the creature’s massive body, leaking aether in shimmering streams. The aether construct was unstable—cracks and gaps were forming where Thorne had struck.

  But it was healing. Slowly, methodically, it was using some kind of skill to draw in more energy from the environment. If Thorne didn’t act fast, all his efforts would be undone.

  He needed to hit it harder—inflict more damage before it could fully recover. And if he could disrupt the flow of aether, drain it faster than the golem could absorb it...

  Thorne’s mind raced. Primal Aether Manipulation. He could use it to drain the aether out of the golem, but it had to be vulnerable first. He needed to land a strike that would open a deeper wound. One that would make draining the aether easier.

  His eyes locked on the golem’s head. The highest concentration of aether pulsed from its core, just beneath the surface. If he could hit that, destabilize the core itself, he could weaken it enough to end this.

  With a plan forming, Thorne didn’t hesitate. He darted forward, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted toward a pile of crumbled stone. His Acrobatics kicked in, his body moving effortlessly as he vaulted onto the wreckage, using the debris to climb higher. The golem turned its massive head, but it seemed distracted, its attention drawn elsewhere. Thorne wasn’t sure what had caught its focus, but he didn’t care. It was the perfect opportunity.

  The noise behind him—screams and shouts—was a distant echo, barely registering as Thorne scaled the side of a broken wall, his hands gripping the jagged stone as he hoisted himself higher. He moved like a shadow, his Combat Reflexes guiding his every move, ensuring his body reacted before his mind could process the danger.

  He needed to get higher.

  Thorne’s eyes scanned the street below. The golem was in the center of the road, chasing after something. Its massive frame lumbered forward, crushing anything in its path, but its movements were erratic. It was trying to keep up with whatever had drawn its attention.

  Thorne cursed under his breath. He wasn’t close enough. If he couldn’t get above the golem, his plan wouldn’t work.

  His mind raced. He needed a platform—something to leap from.

  Without hesitation, Thorne called on his Primal Aether Manipulation, gathering the white motes of aether that danced in the air. He pushed them together, focusing his energy on solidifying them for just a moment. It was a trick he had used only a few times before—forming temporary steps out of raw aether—but it was difficult, draining. Using the raw aether like this took a toll on him, and he could already feel the strain pulling at his reserves.

  He took a deep breath and leapt.

  Mid-air, Thorne’s foot landed on the aether step, the solidified energy holding just long enough for him to spring forward. He soared through the air, his body twisting as he aimed for the golem’s head, ready to strike the core with everything he had.

  But then, a voice cut through the chaos.

  “Thorne!”

  The shout was familiar, urgent. It was Darius.

  For a brief moment, Thorne turned his head, catching sight of Darius and a group of city guards rushing toward him, their eyes wide with disbelief as they took in the scene. Thorne’s heart lurched, but there was no time to think.

  The golem turned.

  A massive fist swung toward him.

  The world blurred.

  Thorne felt the impact before he even realized what had happened. The golem’s fist slammed into him with the force of a battering ram, and everything went dark.

  He was sent hurtling through the air, his body crashing into the side of a building with a sickening thud. Pain exploded through him, white-hot and all-consuming, as the world spun out of control.

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