The cake was long gone, and Kaitlyn was still complaining that she felt so hungry when Tarni's voice cut through the noise of the crowd.

"Alright, everyone—listen up! We're moving to the Riders' place. It's a safe zone."

Dozens of heads turned toward him.

"No, I don't have time to tell you how I know this," Tarni continued, raising his voice. "Just trust me. We're all friends here."

There was some grumbling, but most people seemed willing to listen. Tarni pushed on.

"I want the healers and the younger ones in the middle—carry as much of the food as you can. Anyone with a ranged skill or weapon, form a circle around them. Tanks and anyone with warrior-type skills, make another circle around that. Keep it tight!"

The crowd burst into motion. People ran to collect the leftover food, stacking boxes and trays. A few even found goblin bows and quivers, loot drops after the goblins and hobgoblins had turned to smoke. They were excitedly checking the strings and testing their draw as they made their way to the second layer of defence. Tarni moved through the chaos, shouting instructions, pulling people into position, and somehow managing to bring order to nearly three hundred and sixty terrified survivors.

Max and Kaitlyn ended up near the centre of the group, each carrying boxes—one full of bread, the other piled high with uncooked sausages. Tarni caught snippets of their conversation as he passed.

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"Why do I have to name a Wallaby?" Max grumbled. "You bonded with it, of course, you have to name it, and why a wallaby?" Kaitlyn shot back.

"And I didn't pick it—the system did!" "Same thing!"

Tarni shook his head and smiled despite himself. Kids. Even now.

"Stay in formation!" he called. "We move toward Zane's place—slow and steady. Eyes open!"

He had just started them moving when the sound of crashing branches made him spin. Barry burst out of the treeline, covered in scratches and panting hard—two hobgoblins were charging right behind him.

"Contact!" Tarni bellowed. "Front line—on me!"

The formation shifted instantly, fear forgotten in the rush of survival.

Zane stood in the middle of his kitchen, stuffing food into his mouth between sentences as he argued with the police raid captain. They were trying to decide what to do next—how to secure the area, what the "safe zone" actually meant—when Kai suddenly swore.

"Bloody hell—Uncle Tarn just levelled up!"

Zane froze, a half-eaten piece of bread hanging from his hand. "What?"

Bell looked up sharply. "How do you know that?"

Kai spun his interface so they could see. "Look—party interface. You can see everyone's levels. His just jumped from ten to eleven."

Zane's face drained of colour. "He'd have to kill a lot of monsters—or something big—to gain that much that fast." He looked toward the window, voice dropping to a whisper. "He's in danger. We need to go help him. Right now."

Bell's face went pale as the realisation hit. "He went to help everyone at the twins' birthday party."

With a single look between Zane, Bell, Kai, and Lily, the decision was made.

As his family started scrambling to grab their gear, Zane turned to the police officers and said firmly, "We're heading toward Tarni—fast. If you want to come, try to keep up."

Then he grabbed his machete and ran.

He didn't even bother with the ladder—just vaulted straight off the veranda, landing hard before breaking into a sprint. Bell, Kai, and Lily were right behind him, their footsteps pounding the dirt as the four of them tore off in the direction of Tarni—and what was hopefully most of the townspeople.

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