novelraw Chapter 532
Chapter 532
"Send... ten more."
The Enforcer commander slammed the butt of his rifle into the pavement, 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 men 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 Mercer.
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 men 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 Shimmer brute, his prized monster.
For the first time, doubt crept in.
The brute couldn’t do that.
The commander’s face twitched.
"This... isn’t possible."
He had assumed the earlier men were careless. Overconfident. Caught off guard.
This time they’d moved cautiously, attacking from multiple angles.
Same result.
"What the hell is he?"
A yordle?
No. The body proportions were wrong. He looked human.
Heimerdinger 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 come 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 came up in unison.
"Hell with that!"
The Undercity men 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 somehow missed every time.
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. Some tried to aim at the charging Undercity men. 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 time, 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.