The wind on the hillside was cold.
Thomas knelt on one knee amidst the rubble, raised his hand as a signal, and the White Night Squad scattered and lay low behind the slope line.
Several searchlight beams pierced into Grey Rock Castle from the hillside, like shadowless lamps on an operating table, peeling away layers of darkness from the castle gate hole.
As the beams swept across, dust and the not-yet-dissipated blood mist surged simultaneously, and the air in the distance presented a murky dark red color.
Then Thomas heard a sound of chewing.
"Chomp… chomp…"
The sound of sharp teeth crushing bones and tearing flesh echoed across the empty castle square, amplified and reflected by the walls, sounding like countless mouths feasting simultaneously.
"Shit." Someone in the White Night Squad cursed softly.
That sound was light, yet it couldn't suppress the discomfort welling up from their throats.
