"Send... ten more."
The Enforcer commander slamd the butt of his rifle into the pavent, teeth clenched as he forced the words out.
He was cornered now.
With Grayson and Marcus still in enemy hands, he couldn’t order an all-out assault. Their morale was already shaky, and this absurd little drunk had just swatted eight trained officers unconscious like flies. Eight n didn’t matter in numbers, but the humiliation was catastrophic. If this kept going, his unit would collapse before a single real shot was fired.
Ten of the biggest Enforcers charged.
They never even touched Rowan rcer.
Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.
Ten bodies scattered backward in every direction.
Dead silence.
These weren’t rookies. These were the strongest n in the squad, brawlers who could normally take on three or four Undercity thugs each. Together, they still couldn’t stop a drunk kid’s open hand.
Silco’s smile vanished.
He glanced sideways at his Shimr brute, his prized monster.
For the first ti, doubt crept in.
The brute couldn’t do that.
The commander’s face twitched.
"This... isn’t possible."
He had assud the earlier n were careless. Overconfident. Caught off guard.
This ti they’d moved cautiously, attacking from multiple angles.
Sa result.
"What the hell is he?"
A yordle?
No. The body proportions were wrong. He looked human.
Heirdinger was a yordle, three centuries old and barely taller than a child, but this boy didn’t resemble one at all.
Before he could decide what to do next, a runner hurried up and whispered urgently in his ear.
The commander inhaled sharply.
Then he raised his voice.
"All units, advance. Full assault. Anyone who disobeys will be shot."
The order from the Council had co down.
Five of the six councillors had voted for a purge of Black Lane. Grayson and Marcus were to be written off as acceptable losses. The Undercity had to be taught, once and for all, that Piltover’s authority was untouchable.
No more uprisings.
No more bridges running red.
Rifles ca up in unison.
"Hell with that!"
The Undercity n roared and charged.
Silco narrowed his eyes and quietly pulled his people back out of the kill zone.
Let them tear each other apart.
Rowan whooped.
"That’s more like it!"
He staggered forward, weaving drunkenly as bullets zipped past him and sohow missed every ti.
Then he hit the Enforcer line.
The commander went down first.
One slap sent him spinning through the air.
Then Rowan started working his way through the formation, hands blurring.
Anyone he touched flew.
No one stayed standing.
With their commander gone and Rowan rampaging through their ranks like a living wrecking ball, the Enforcers lost all cohesion. So tried to aim at the charging Undercity n. Others tried to track Rowan. They failed at both.
The Black Lane fighters crashed into them a heartbeat later.
What followed wasn’t a battle.
It was a collapse.
Six years ago, the Undercity had lost because Piltover’s guns had cut them down before they could get close.
This ti, no one in Black Lane had fallen yet.
Half the Enforcer unit was already unconscious on the ground.
And the rest were being dragged into brutal close-quarters fights.
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