Many people think of a blowout as a uniform eruption of ?ther in a single location. This is only true in the sense that there is always a focal point where the blowout starts, from which it tears through its surroundings. While it is certainly possible that a blowout could involve only a single fissure, there could just as well be several thousand, all grouped around the focal point. The size of these fissures can range from a pinprick to a gaping chasm.

  Excerpt from 'Introduction to the Workings of Magic'

  “We aren't getting anywhere like this,” Dovell grumbled. With a grim expression, he watched the horde of terrified people making their way down the street. It was a terrible sight to behold. People were being trampled left and right as those around them desperately tried to get away.

  Dovell and his lance had positioned themselves in a space between two houses, being unable to progress any further due to the flood of people moving in the other direction.

  And it wasn't just this road. Every street was filled with people running for their lives, preventing Dovell and his men from reaching the focal point of the blowout. All they could do at the moment was wait for a break in the crowd.

  “It's no good, sir!” Nissek shouted from the rear, trying to make himself heard over the sound of people screaming. “There is no way out on the other side either.”

  Dovell cursed. River's End was a very cramped district, with only two major roads leading out of it. With a panic this size, people were being trampled to death and there was nothing they could do about it.

  Imagine what it would have been like if a m?lstrom had actually started, Dovell thought, craning his neck to see over the crowd. Then again, if it had, we wouldn't be here.

  After the otherworldly sound of the first blowout ended, he had waited with dread for another. Yet no other blowout was heard, a miracle that would have caused Dovell to give thanks to the gods had he been religious.

  “Any commands or information from the Keep?” Dovell asked Rooy, who was standing with his eyes closed.

  Rooy opened his eyes and shook his head. “I can't contact Olissa anymore. Mind fatigue, I assume. The last thing I heard was that they were setting up a signal stone relay, but I've got no response on those either.”

  “Any other lances that are in range?”

  “I'm afraid not. We're the only ones here.”

  “This is going from bad to worse,” Dovell mumbled. If only all these people had stayed inside.

  He understood why they didn't, though. Every person the world over had it drilled into them from childhood that there was no way to protect or hide yourself from a m?lstrom. Fleeing from it was your only chance of survival. So flee they did, without regard for others, as a fate worse than death loomed over them.

  “I have some news,” Tobiac said. “The ?ther pressure here has dropped to close to nothing.”

  “That's to be expected after a blowout,” Dovell replied. “I only hope enough ?ther was expelled to ensure no further blowouts occur. That will at least contain the problem in this area.”

  Again Dovell peered around the corner of the house to see if there were any gaps in the crowd. There weren't any, but to Dovell's relief he did not see any signs of horrors yet either.

  Even so, in a densely populated district like River's End, who knows how many people were caught in the blowout. I can only hope they were all killed outright.

  It was a vain hope, he knew. There had not been a blowout inside a city yet that had not spawned several demons, chimeras, ghasts and other horrors.

  “Will there be wraiths, sir?” Bastian asked, as if reading Dovell's mind.

  “I sincerely hope not,” Dovell said as he turned around to face his men lined up behind him. “But if we do encounter them, keep in mind that demons and wraiths are no longer people. They're just what's left of them.”

  Bastian swallowed visibly.

  “We'll still need a way to get to the main fissure, sir,” Nissek said. “The longer we wait, the more time the spawns will have to spread out over the entire city. They won't linger once the initial volatility caused by the blowout is gone.”

  Dovell nodded. “No way around it then. We're going to force our way through the surrounding buildings.” He tapped the wall beside him with the side of his fist. “We keep moving until we reach an area that isn't packed with people. Dead ends, we break through by force.”

  “Yes sir,” Nissek said, retrieving a runestone from his pouch. “I think the house behind us should lead to a parallel street.”

  “Get to it.”

  Five destroyed walls and doors later, Dovell noticed that the atmosphere around them had changed. The clamour of the mob had diminished to a distant noise, and the streets before them were empty save for the occasional corpse or injured person trampled underfoot during the initial panic.

  “I can't do anything more for him,” Rooy said, looking up from an unconscious man with two mangled legs. “I stopped the bleeding, but I don't think he's going to survive for much longer unless a healer gets here.”

  “That's not going to happen anytime soon,” Dovell said, eyeing his surroundings. “It's unfortunate, but we need to move on.”

  It pained Dovell to leave people behind like this, but he knew that far more would get hurt if they didn't reach the centre of the blowout before the ?ther beings there started spreading out over the city.

  Further and further they advanced, and it began to grow eerily quiet. The streets were completely abandoned now, showing only signs of the earlier blind panic. Doors were left open and goods strewn across the street.

  “We're getting close,” Tobiac said. “Volatility is increasing again, despite the low pressure.”

  “Ready your swords and mouth cloths,” Dovell instructed. “If you see anything moving from this point on, assume it's dangerous until proven otherwise.”

  Behind him he could hear one of his men clear his throat nervously, but Dovell ignored it as he focused on the street ahead. We should see it any moment now.

  The first sign was a sparse amount of bright green dust that was blowing across the street.

  We're here.

  He slowed down to a walk and swiftly checked if he had properly enchanted himself. In the aftermath of a blowout, everything was dangerous. It wasn't just the risk of horrors and other transmogrified beings. The air itself could have turned toxic, and curses—twisted patterns of woven ?ther—could be anywhere, ready to break into the natural realm at the slightest disturbance.

  To combat this, each man of Fifth Lance had enchanted himself with the various incarnations of Allion's Aura: an age-old bulwark spell specifically designed to negate these dangers. Its protection isn't perfect, however. We'll have to take care of the biggest threats while they are still weak.

  The source of the dust became clear after they rounded another corner. The roof of a nearby house had been obliterated, leaving a ragged edge of brittle material that sent up clouds of green with every gust of wind. Further up the street another house had collapsed, its walls having disappeared entirely, leaving only an otherwise unaffected roof sitting on the ground.

  “We're very close now,” Dovell said to nobody in particular. “Stay together and call out immediately if you see anything moving that isn't windblown.”

  The street and buildings now showed signs of changes as well, becoming a patchwork of colours as the various elements transmogrified the stone and wood into a multitude of random new materials.

  “Watch your step,” Nissek said. “It's still early enough for the more unstable materials to exist, so avoid anything that doesn't look like it's supposed to.”

  Dovell stepped past a hole in the street, a grey puddle at the bottom that he guessed used to be cobblestone, when he heard a child scream up ahead past a bend in the street.

  The lance accelerated their pace and soon came upon the sight of a strange-looking woman staggering towards a child hiding in the arms of another older woman.

  Dovell wasted no time and readied his sword, charging the Inner Fire contained within. His heavy boots drummed on the cobblestones as he charged.

  The demon pivoted on her transmogrified orange leg to face him. A single bright hazel-coloured eye cast a soulless stare at Dovell.

  Hazel eyes, like Elisa had, Dovell thought, recalling the face of his long dead wife. Only her eyes weren't that colour anymore after—

  He forcibly shook off the thought, planted his foot on the ground, and swung his sword with all his might.

  The sword bit into the demon's neck from the left side and cut straight through until it connected with the orange part of the body.

  There was a flash of light where Dovell's sword hit, and an instant later Dovell was thrown off his feet as the demon exploded.

  He landed on his rear and spun around once, coming to a standstill to look straight at Nissek's boots.

  Nissek immediately bent over to pick him up. “Sir?!” he exclaimed, followed by something else that Dovell could not make out.

  That was stupid.

  He accepted Nissek's outstretched arm and got on his feet again.

  “Sir? Can you hear me, sir?” Nissek asked, the urgency clear from his voice.

  The ringing in his ears started to die down and he checked himself for injuries.

  Everything seems to still be here, Dovell thought after checking all his extremities. “I'm fine.”

  He brushed his hand over his chest and noted it was largely devoid of foreign matter. “It was just the shock wave that threw me. My bulwark prevented any damage.”

  He turned to look at the demon, glimpsing Bastian throwing up on the street.

  The remains of the demon were spread out over the dirty cobblestones. The left leg and arm were torn off, and smaller scraps of gore lay spread out everywhere, making for a gruesome sight. The child appeared unharmed, and wailed with muffled, drawn-out sobs, pushing her face into the dress of the elder woman, who had slid lifelessly down the wall.

  I need to regain control over this.

  “The orange ones explode,” Dovell noted, forcing his voice to sound calm. “The heat of the Inner Fire probably triggered it. Rooy, check those two. And Bastian, stop losing your breakfast and pay attention.”

  “Yes sir,” Bastian mumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his glove.

  “I suppose we do not cut the next one then,” Tobiac offered, yet the light remark could not hide his anxiety.

  “I doubt there will be a next one,” Nissek responded. “This isn't a normal blowout where there are only two elements involved. This one had all six, so you can expect something from every dyad. Only those spawned at the larger fissures will be uniform in appearance.”

  “She's better off now,” Dovell said, as much to himself as to everyone else. “With a body like that she wouldn't have lasted. The partially transmogrified rarely do.”

  “Sir?” Rooy said as he passed a scrying stone over the child. “The girl isn't transmogrified and seems unharmed. The woman is dead, though.”

  Dovell came closer and noted the large red smear on the brick wall. “Looks like she was already injured.”

  Rooy nodded. “Fractured skull, I'd say. That stuff on the windowsill is more than just blood.”

  Dovell did not bother to look. He grabbed hold of the child instead, pulling her away from the corpse.

  She was holding a stuffed cow toy and her eyes were red with tears. Fortunately, as Rooy said, she appeared unhurt. There's no telling what she might have inhaled, though. I can only hope it wasn't anything harmful.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “What's your name?” Dovell asked the girl, arranging his face in a calm yet stern expression.

  “Cilla, sir,” the child said between heaves.

  “Where do you live?”

  Cilla gestured towards the building behind her.

  “Are your parents here? Or is this your mother?”

  “That's my mischa. Mommy is—” She let out a loud sob as she looked at the demon's corpse.

  Dovell positioned himself in front of the child to obscure the sight. He needed to keep her attention lest she became inconsolable.

  “What about your father? Where is he?”

  “At work.”

  “Where does he work?”

  Cilla shrugged. “Somewhere along the river.”

  Probably in one of the warehouses or one of the foundries, Dovell thought. Good. That means he wasn't here.

  “Listen to me, Cilla. You need to leave here immediately. Do you know where the nearest guard post is?”

  “Yes, but my mischa said I should go to my Aunt Anvina.”

  “Does she live nearby?”

  “No, she lives in the West District.”

  “That won't do,” Dovell said. She'll either get lost or will be trampled by the mob.

  “But I don't want to go there. The watchmen are mean,” the girl continued.

  “Do you want me to take over, sir?” Tobiac asked.

  “Please do,” Dovell said gratefully, stepping back. Dealing with children wasn't his strong point.

  Tobiac squatted down in front of the child and started to speak to her softly.

  “What do we do now, sir?” Rooy asked. “The blowout hit several blocks at least. Every one of these houses could have things like that in them.” He tilted his head towards the corpse. “Do we need to check them all?”

  Dovell's expression turned grim again. “Eventually, but not yet. Most people who are only partially transmogrified die instantly. And that's what you'll find in these houses: transmogrified corpses. The only thing we need to worry about right now is the largest fissures near the focal point. That's where the whole demons and wraiths will spawn.”

  Rooy mulled that over for a moment, and his face displayed an increasing sense of worry. “Isn't it likely that the focal point was near one of the enemy haunts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doesn't that mean that there were a lot of people there? Dusters, the city watch…”

  “Yes.”

  The corners of Rooy's mouth twitched.

  Finally he realizes how bad the situation really is.

  Just as Rooy said, the odds of the largest fissures completely engulfing several people were high, which meant that both their survival rate and potential threat was far greater than the pitiful creature Dovell had just killed.

  “She's ready to go, sir,” Tobiac said, standing up. “I do want to get her coat first though. Some food and water maybe.”

  We don't have time for this, Dovell thought, yet he couldn't bear to inflict even more suffering upon the child. “Very well. Take Rooy with you and hurry.”

  Tobiac and Rooy entered the building and Dovell took a few steps forward to get a better look at the devastation.

  There were transmogrified spots everywhere. More than he could count. Several of the ones up ahead were large enough to engulf a human whole. He had seen a similar sight once before, but this was on an entirely different scale.

  Given how many people live here, dozens must have been caught in the blowout. He turned to face Nissek. “What's the spawn rate for wraiths?”

  “It depends on the exact elements contained in the blowout. A lot of Wonder means the rate is very low: about one in two hundred. Entropy, however, has a rate of one out of five.”

  “Hmm,” Dovell hummed, pondering those numbers.

  “It's ironic that the element associated the most with destruction offers the greatest survival rate,” Bastian noted.

  “Entropy is order, whereas Wonder is chaotic,” Nissek said. “In that light, it's not so strange at all. Nevertheless, this blowout contained all six elements in equally high amounts. I have no idea what the spawn rate here is. Not for wraiths or demons. I read a thesis once that said that adding more elements increases the stability, but that was for conjurations. Not spawning.”

  “So basically we have no idea,” Dovell said as Tobiac and Rooy re-emerged from the house. “I guess we will find out soon enough.”

  Tobiac sent the girl on her way. She ran as fast as her small legs could carry her in the direction of the guard post, toy still in hand.

  “Fifth Lance, move out,” Dovell commanded.

  They didn't have to walk far. The next crossroads they reached revealed a reality distorted even further than the street they had just left. This is the place, Dovell thought, eyeing the houses.

  “Sir,” Rooy whispered as he pointed.

  Dovell followed his finger and saw another group of demons.

  There were three of them, standing frozen in front of a run-down town-house similar to the one the child had lived in. They were surrounded by equally strange-looking corpses spread out over the area.

  Those didn't survive the spawning.

  The street was filled with an unmoving cloud of brownish dust, making it difficult to make out any details. Yet the few things Dovell could make out were enough to tell him that the three figures had once been members of the city watch. Two of them still wore their distinct dome-shaped helmet, and the weapon of Rios embroidered on their tunics was equally recognizable despite the colours being several shades off.

  Dovell could tell these weren't partial spawns like the one he had destroyed earlier. These were full spawns. The ?ther had engulfed the unfortunate men entirely during the blowout.

  Their presence here didn't surprise him. He would have found it more worrying if they had encountered none at all.

  The only concern I have is what they are exactly, Dovell thought, and he surveyed his surroundings more closely. That and how easily we can destroy them.

  The source of the dust cloud appeared to be one of the nearby buildings, which had been completely obliterated. Dovell could not say whether it was because of an external force or because the transmogrification of its walls had caused it to collapse. The two houses adjacent to it had suffered a similar fate, leaving only half of the walls standing. That building was probably the Duster haunt, Dovell thought, relieved. If any of those Dusters were transmogrified as well, the rubble would have crushed them.

  “Spread out two steps and advance,” Dovell said, “but slowly, and keep an eye out for other demons. Including the ones that look like they're dead.”

  The men crept closer towards the three figures, who remained stationary. The cloud of dust enveloped Dovell, and he was glad the aura protected him from inhaling any of it.

  The smell must be terrible as well. Or perhaps wondrous. Who knows?

  When he was only five paces away, Dovell halted. The dust cloud was thinner here and he could now clearly see the three former guards.

  Their outfits, leather armour mostly, looked the same apart from a silvery hue that reflected the light in an unusual manner. What had changed, however, was their faces.

  They had none.

  Instead of flesh, a milky-white fluid covered their heads and hands. It flowed around the skull, slipping in and out of the eye sockets as if trying to escape. Their eyes were either gone or submerged somewhere beneath.

  Dovell swallowed once. “They're wraiths,” he said with a hushed voice.

  Wraiths, like all ghasts, were motivated largely by the ?ther around them, and this made them both predictable and easy to track compared to demons.

  Even so, wraiths could be considered to be far more dangerous due to their ability to mimic spells. As long as their forms sustained them, they could continue to mimic and use every spell they encountered. Wraiths were counted among the most dangerous ?ther beings in history, especially the ones that survived battle after battle, each time gaining stronger magic as they mimicked the spells of those who failed to destroy them.

  “Are you certain, sir?” Rooy whispered back as the men started to encircle the three.

  “No doubt about it,” Dovell said. “Only wraiths can maintain a non-solid state like that.”

  The three wraiths staggered and turned their heads in the direction of the guards as they formed a crescent around them.

  “Are they going to attack?” Tobiac asked, his sword held in front of him.

  “They can't see us,” Dovell replied, “but they can scry the wake left by our enchantments. That's what they are responding to.”

  “Do we strike them down?”

  “Let's go with a ranged attack first,” Dovell said, recalling the incident with the demon earlier.

  “I'll throw a ticker,” Nissek said. “If it's ineffective, they will hopefully mimic the spell and blow themselves up.”

  “This freshly spawned, they might do just that,” Dovell said. He beckoned everyone to back off.

  The wraiths followed them.

  Their first two steps were unsteady, but the third one was firmly planted and the fourth and the fifth went faster.

  “They're coming!” Tobiac shouted as he threw the ticker.

  One of the wraiths tripped over a corpse and fell head-first onto the street. Dovell saw a white cloud of fluid escape from the body, only to stop a few feet away and then return to the rejoin the rest.

  “Hold!” Dovell shouted, readying his sword.

  With a dull thud the ticker exploded, catching the wraith that had fallen as it tried to stand up. Its milky flesh was ripped away from its head, revealing a dark-grey skull underneath.

  The other two wraiths immediately stopped in their tracks and turned back towards the site of the explosion.

  “Stab them in the back!” Nissek shouted, lunging forward.

  Tobiac was the closest and he lunged forward as well, stabbing the helmetless wraith in the back. Dovell could see the sword pushing the transmogrified leather into the body, yet it did not seem to penetrate.

  No good. “Use Inner Fire. See if that makes a difference.”

  “I am using it,” Tobiac retorted, taking another stab at the wraith's back. As before, the sword did no damage at all.

  Dovell glanced at the wraith that had been hit by the ticker. The loss of the fluid seemed to cause it great discomfort as it thrashed its limbs while on the ground.

  “Avoid the armour. Aim for the head.”

  Rooy took his advice and swung his sword, impacting the head of the helmetless wraith.

  The effect was instantaneous. The wraith's skull exploded in a white and grey mist of fluid and a substance similar to charcoal. The wraith stumbled for a single step and then fell down.

  “Their skeletons are fragile,” Dovell noted. “Hit them with blunt force.”

  Tobiac attacked the wraith lying on the ground, driving the point of his sword forcibly into the opening beneath the helmet. A sickening crack accompanied the shattering skull.

  One left.

  The wraith that remained upright stood motionless for a moment, as if observing the fate of its two companions. Then, just before Rooy could take a swing at it as well, it leapt away.

  Dovell expected it to attack one of his men, but instead it ran away from them as fast as it could.

  “It's fleeing!” Tobiac yelled.

  Too soon, much too soon, Dovell thought. Normally wraiths would take days, if not weeks, to recover the behavioural traits of their human base. A freshly spawned wraith should have no desire for self-preservation whatsoever.

  Yet this one already knows to fear us.

  “Harra, Tobiac,” Dovell commanded as he jumped over a corpse in pursuit. “Make certain those two are dead. The rest of you, help me catch that one.”

  The wraith was fast. Much faster than Dovell and the others, yet its lack of vision caused it to stumble over every hole and piece of rubble, slowing it down.

  “Going to use Light snap,” Nissek said, running with one hand in his runepouch.

  “Wait a moment,” Dovell said between breaths. “The street is ending.”

  Twelve vors in front of them, the wraith ran full speed towards a solid brick wall it could not see.

  Crash into it as hard as you can, Dovell fiercely hoped.

  It didn't happen. Just before reaching the wall, the wraith braked and spun around, before softly bumping sideways into it with its remaining momentum. Somehow it had sensed that the way was obstructed.

  Bastian was the closest to it now, and he took a swing at the wraith's legs, only to miss by a hair's breadth as the wraith resumed its run; this time to the south.

  “Krat!” Bastian cursed, trying to regain his balance.

  “Keep at it!” Dovell shouted as he jumped across a hole in the street before banking to the right to follow the wraith. “We can't let it escape.”

  With a flash, Nissek shot forward, passing the wraith and using his momentum to spin his sword back at it, hitting it full in the chest.

  The wraith's run halted cold because of the impact, but despite staggering underneath the impact, it did not fall.

  That should have crushed its ribs. Is it only the head that's fragile? Or does the armour absorb blows?

  Nissek took a defensive stance as Dovell, Rooy and Bastian came up from the rear. A quick glance behind him told Dovell that Harra and Tobiac were coming as well.

  No matter. We've got you now.

  Nissek carefully crept closer to the wraith, who now stood motionless. Its fluid flesh was moving erratically and Dovell could see the ripples cross over the exposed parts where skin used to be.

  “Take out the legs,” Nissek said. “It won't get past me.”

  The wraith took a single step, and shot forward like Nissek had done.

  “What?!” Nissek exclaimed, spinning around to follow the wraith with his eyes. “It used Light snap!”

  Dovell was astonished, even though he knew this could happen. The distance between them and the wraith grew rapidly as it used its new-found ability over and over again.

  Now what? Order everyone to use Light snap as well? That's too dangerous in these narrow streets. Especially with the state of the streets as it is. But what other choice do I have?

  If the wraith escaped, it would only become more dangerous as time passed. The fact that it had already mimicked the Light snap spell made this clearer than anything.

  Dovell reached into his runepouch and opened his mouth to command the lance, when he heard shouts behind him.

  Tobiac and Harra had come under attack from a group of small, dark creatures that jumped up at them, snapping at their legs.

  “Sir,” Nissek said, “do you want me to keep pursuing it?”

  The image of Renn's empty bunk bed flashed before Dovell's eyes.

  “No,” Dovell said, turning around to run back towards his two besieged men. “Take out those things first.”

  The things turned out to be transmogrified blacks rats. Twice the size of their bases with pitch-black eyes, malformed lower jaws, and tails that flailed around like they had a will of their own.

  They jumped up at the men, snapping their jaws at anything they came into contact with.

  “Watch it,” Tobiac shouted. “Those things are heavier than they look.”

  There were around two dozen of them, but the combined force of the six men quickly ended them all as they mindlessly tried to attack in the same way over and over again.

  Dovell gave the last one a good kick as it tried to jump up towards Tobiac. He could feel the creature's skeleton break under the impact.

  Like kicking a rock, Dovell thought as he wriggled his bent toes.

  “That's the last of them, I think,” Rooy said.

  “Anyone injured?” Dovell asked.

  “I am,” Tobiac said, showing a hole in the fabric of his trousers. “Damn thing bit right through my bulwark.”

  “Do we resume pursuit of the wraith, sir?” Nissek asked once more.

  Dovell turned to look down the street where the wraith had fled. There was no sign of it.

  “Yes,” Dovell said. “The ?ther wake left by a wraith using Light snap must be enormous. It won't escape.”

  “Sir,” Rooy interjected, “the Keep contacted me.” He held up a signal stone.

  “Finally,” Dovell said as he stabbed one of the rat horrors for good measure. “What's the situation?”

  Rooy took a moment to interpret the vibrations.

  “We're being recalled, sir,” Rooy eventually said.

  Dovell's mouth fell open behind his mouth cloth. “What?! No. We can't leave. If we don't track that wraith now, it could end up anywhere.”

  “I'm sorry, sir,” Nissek said with a disquieted expression. “It's my fault.”

  “Don't blame yourself,” Dovell said, waving roughly. “It was the right decision to make, it's just an unfortunate outcome. One we can still resolve.”

  He turned back to Rooy. “Inform the Keep of our situation and tell them we are going to pursue the wraith.”

  “I already did, sir. They still want us to return.”

  Dovell frowned. “What? On whose order? Don't they know how much damage that wraith can cause if left alive?”

  Rooy focused his attention back on the stone.

  “It's a command from the guard-marshal himself. He wants us to return right now and be back before dusk.”

  Dovell narrowed his eyes and drove his sword into yet another dead horror in frustration.

  Should I disobey this order?

  Dovell surveyed the situation. All of his men were mostly uninjured so far, yet the run through the streets and the following fight had left them all winded. It wouldn't be much longer until they became too fatigued to maintain their enchantments.

  Not to mention that there are bound to more creatures lurking in these houses. Man and beast alike. If we got jumped once, it can happen again, and then it might not be such an easy battle.

  “Damn the ?ther,” he cursed. “We'll retreat then. Just take a scrying of the wake left by the wraith first. We will need it later.”

  “Yes sir,” the men said in unison.

  As they passed the site of the Dusters' haunt, they found it as they had left it. The wraiths downed by them were still alive, their torsos twitching, yet their crushed limbs and heads prevented them from doing anything. Once the ?ther that empowered them ran out, they would die.

  “Destroy the limbs of the ones that were already dead as well,” Dovell said. “I don't want to take any chances.”

  The men got to work and Dovell took a closer look at the collapsed building. There was only rubble there. He wondered how many men had been inside and how many of them had spawned.

  At least we got two of them, Dovell thought, trying to console himself. If all three had been left alive, it would have been much worse.

  He poked his sword at a nearby broken wall and penetrated a support beam with a blue hue as if it was a feather pillow. An azure-coloured stream of something resembling mud poured from the wood when he retracted his sword.

  That explains why the building collapsed.

  “We're done here, sir,” Nissek said. He looked pained, still not having forgiven himself for letting the wraith escape.

  “We'll destroy that thing,” Dovell said in consolation. “We definitely will.” He raised his arm. “Fifth Lance, move out.”