Behind the enormous city walls, a gigantic army was already waiting. It was a force gathered from every settlement in the surrounding lands, a host of more than one million soldiers. The sheer scale of it was terrifying. Shire understood at once that this was the last great defense of this side of the planet Scur.
Even so, the sight was unexpected. He had not anticipated such unity. Only when he looked closer did he realize the truth. Among the soldiers were not only men, but women as well. There were even children and the elderly. Every last one of them had assembled here to halt the Polykenas invasion.
Shire's brow furrowed in confusion. He had never thought the humans of this world capable of rallying so quickly, or so thoroughly.
His own army, led at the front by the Black Patron, struck the human lines like a hammer. The battlefield dissolved instantly into a massacre, a bloody slaughter. Shire turned his head, preparing to widen the breach they had carved into the wall so that more Polykenas could pour into the city, but suddenly he heard cries. These cries he heard were not from the humans. They were from his very own soldiers.
Shire's eyes snapped toward the sound and saw the man who had tried to stop him earlier.
A colossal wave of molten metal surged across the battlefield, crashing into the Polykenas' ranks and swallowing thousands at once. Jagged metal spikes rained down from the sky, impaling countless more. From below, steel tendrils erupted, wrapping and tearing through soldiers like paper. In mere seconds, the man had killed tens of thousands.
Shire's vision burned crimson with rage. How dare this frail creature defy the will of his Duce? How dare he annihilate the Polykenas with such audacity?
With a guttural snarl, Shire unleashed his power. Magic burst from his body as he launched himself into the air in a single enormous leap, hurling himself straight toward the mage.
The man turned at the sound of Shire's roar. His eyes widened. For an instant, his face paled with fear.
Then instinct took over, the kind honed by countless battles, the reflex that had saved his life a dozen times before.
His hand snapped upward.
The fragments of metal still clinging to Shire twisted violently, dragging the giant down. Shire slammed into the earth with bone-shattering force.
The mage lifted his hand again. From all around, he summoned every scrap of metal within reach, tearing it from earth, buildings, and weapons alike. A mountain of raw iron formed above him, thousands of tons suspended in the air.
Cracks split the skin of his fingers. The strain was immense, his body pushed to its absolute limit. But he did not falter.
He let it fall.
The mountain struck the ground with apocalyptic force. The battlefield quaked. Chasms split the earth. A thunderous storm of dust swept outward as the iron crushed Shire beneath its impossible weight, burying him along with tens of thousands of Polykenas.
The mage exhaled, his chest heaving. Relief flickered in his eyes. Perhaps… perhaps it was enough. He prepared to strike again, as the iron mountain shuddered.
A metallic groan reverberated through the battlefield. The mage stiffened, watching as the impossible happened. He summoned a massive pillar of steel that shot upward, lifting him high into the air, his gaze focused on the mount. The entire iron mass trembled violently. Then it went completely silent.
Then Shire shot through the dirt right next to the mountain. Instead of trying to force his way through the metal, he dug a tunnel from underneath it.
He leapt. The mage hurled spear after spear of sharpened iron down at him. Shire twisted in the air, dodging them with terrifying speed. But one struck true. It pierced his chest.
For a moment, time froze.
The glowing symbols etched into Shire's armor flared brilliantly, then faded. They had absorbed the full force of the spear, but the protective enchantments were spent. Shire's momentum slowed slightly, but he did not stop.
The mage's eyes blazed with determination. He raised both arms. A massive hammer of iron formed above him and came crashing down.
Shire slammed back into the ground, sent flying like a toy. Dust and shattered stone engulfed him. But only seconds later, he erupted upward once more.
The mage's arms trembled. The cracks in his flesh had spread to his elbows. He knew he was nearing collapse. If he pushed further, he would break.
He turned abruptly and leapt from his metal pillar. Another column surged upward to catch him, then another, then another. He sprinted through the sky, throwing attack after attack into the Polykenas ranks, killing thousands more with each strike.
Shire hissed with fury and gave chase. Yet to his shock, the human was faster. Faster than him.
Impossible.
In the blink of an eye, Shire was beneath him again, preparing to leap upward for the kill. But his feet sank. He looked down.
The ground beneath him had become a sea of liquid metal, and he was sinking fast.
He thrashed, pulling with monstrous strength, but it was useless. There was no foothold, no leverage. His raw power meant nothing if he had nothing to brace against. Like quicksand, the molten metal pulled him deeper, swallowing him whole.
Shire snarled and slammed his fists into the liquid with all his might. The shockwave tore across the battlefield, opening fissures hundreds of meters long.
The mage staggered, gasping. He knew it then. This creature was stronger. Stronger than him, stronger than anything he could handle alone.
If he stayed, he would die.
His gaze snapped upward. Above, the skies raged with chaos. Thousands of mages clashed, spells of every element streaking across the heavens: water, fire, lightning, blood, light, earth, and more.
He raised his hand. The cracks in his flesh deepened, spreading along his arms, up his chest. He poured nearly all of his remaining power into one final strike.
The metal enveloping Shire shifted. It did not press down but instead surged upward, flowing into the sky, suddenly releasing him.
Shire looked up.
A storm of iron needles filled the heavens. Thousands upon thousands of them, some no larger than arrows, others the size of tree trunks. And every last one pointed not at him, but at the white Polykenas fighting in the sky.
Shire roared in rage as he got a really bad feeling.
Far above, Istric heard his roar. His pupils shrank as he spotted the sea of needles. His golden eyes darted, finding the mage below.
He snarled.
And in a flash of searing light, he moved.
"NO! PROTECT THE OTHERS!" Shire howled furiously but helplessly. It was too late.
Istric appeared right beside the metal mage, his form blazing with light. He acted fast. A blade of light shot out and carved through the mage's neck in a single stroke, severing his head cleanly.
But the needles had already been unleashed.
Istric's eyes widened with horror as he looked upward. Hundreds of Polykenas were instantly shredded, falling lifeless from the sky. Those fast enough to react survived, but only to be struck down by human spells moments later.
In an instant, the tide had turned. The Polykenas were reeling, their enemies pressing harder, stronger than ever.
Shire froze as he watched his army being slaughtered. A fury unlike anything he had ever felt surged through him.
His killing intent boiled over.
With a single leap, he hurled himself three hundred meters across the battlefield, crashing directly into the heart of the enemy lines. The ground erupted beneath him, a crater exploding outward from his landing.
He charged straight toward the city center. Everything in his path was annihilated. Soldiers became nothing but crushed flesh beneath his fists.
Each strike tore gaping holes through enemy formations. Terror spread through the army. The defenders broke and ran everywhere Shire went.
But he ignored them. These were nothing. His eyes were fixed on the great palace that loomed above the city from its hill.
Dozens of guards stood in front of it. Shire crushed them with a single blow, their bodies breaking like twigs.
Then another man stepped forward.
He was tall, nearly as large as Shire himself, with long black hair and skin inked in tattoos. His presence radiated power. He grinned, baring his teeth.
"Finally," he laughed. "A worthy opponent." He tore the sleeves from his arms, muscles flexing. Shire did not speak. He simply struck.
His fist punched straight through the man's stomach before he had time to react.
The man's eyes bulged with panic. "Wait...we can talk...I can help..."
Shire just grunted, ripping his head from his shoulders, silencing him forever.
He turned to the palace. With all his strength, he struck. The impact sent violent winds tearing across the city. The entire palace trembled, its windows shattered, and the stone started breaking, but it soemhow held on.
Shire struck again.
This time, the massive structure couldn't absorb the force and collapsed. The palace fell in on itself, burying the king and all within.
As the dust rose, Shire felt it, the chaotic energy released by the destruction. It surged into him, healing the cracks on his muscular arms.
His wounds closed. His power grew.
He turned, eyes blazing with bloodlust, searching for his next target...
Meanwhile, far away, Nero's march was proceeding without resistance. Village to village, city to city, they moved unhindered. Not once did they encounter a force of any substance. The further they advanced, the weaker the resistance became.
Yet Nero and his generals did not celebrate. Their faces only grew darker.
Where were the mages?
Where were the kings, the armies, the people?
The houses they passed were abandoned, as if their inhabitants had fled in haste.
Nero's eyes narrowed. He understood immediately.
The humans were gathering somewhere.
And he already had a guess where they would be.