Chapter 30

Ezra Mercer moved like a machine of precision and iron. Outside the rift, the air was thick with the copper tang of blood and the musk of the Nazareth Beasts. Ezra didn't waste breath on shouting. He waded into the thick of the bipedal monsters, his axes blurring in short, brutal arcs. He caught a beast across the thigh, the blade biting through hide and bone, before spinning to catch another in the ribs. Each swing was a calculated necessity. Between the rhythmic impacts of his weapons, his...