(Narrator POV)
Location: Atlantis Kingdom — Outer Border Wall, Wall of Jarago
The Atlantis Kingdom was facing a threat known among soldiers as the Silent Nightmare creature. These creatures existed for a single purpose—to kill any living being that moved. There was only one mercy to their nature: they despised sunlight. Unfortunately, that weakness meant little to Atlantis, a land eternally covered by thick, unmoving clouds.
In the past, this had never been a problem. Under Queen Erza's rule, and with her Royal Guard Captain standing beside her, the Silent Nightmares could never withstand her overwhelming power. Because of her, Atlantis rose to become one of the most influential kingdoms in the region, rivaling entire nations.
Now, the queen was gone.
Without her presence, the Silent Nightmares creatures began launching surprise attacks. Outposts vanished. Patrols failed to return. To prevent the walls from being breached, the kingdom stationed elite troops along the outer border, ordering them to stand guard day and night.
These guards were not ordinary soldiers. They were Half-Dragon Kin, ogres, and warriors of mixed races—beings strong enough to face monsters that would wipe out human battalions. Though not pure dragons, the Half-Dragon Kin possessed more than enough strength to protect the wall.
Overseeing them were the Wardens, captains tasked with inspecting defenses and maintaining discipline.
One such Warden stood atop the wall.
Vaelor Oferd, Captain of the Outer Border, Half-Dragon Kin.
He leaned against the stone battlement, chewing on a strip of frozen dried meat known as Kravd, a popular street food among dragons. The icy wind brushed past him as his sharp eyes scanned the snow-covered forest beyond the wall.
Then he felt it.
Something was wrong.
With dragon blood flowing through his veins, Vaelor's senses were far sharper than a human's. His gaze narrowed, locking onto the treeline ahead. Snow resting on the branches began to fall—not all at once, not because of the wind, but slowly, as if something beneath it was moving.
Vaelor's eyes widened.
He reached for a mana potion at his belt, uncorked it, and drank it in one swift motion. Mana surged through his body as he raised his arm and unleashed a dragon fireball.
The blast struck the moving snow with terrifying force. The ground shook violently, and snow so thick it could swallow a man was instantly vaporized, steam erupting into the air.
Vaelor did not lower his guard. His eyes remained fixed on the scorched ground.
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then the snow began to move again—slow, deliberate, crawling closer.
Vaelor inhaled deeply and roared.
"PREPARE FOR ATTACK!"
Guards snapped to attention, weapons drawn.
"INTRUDER BENEATH OUR LAND!"
Mana flared across the wall as alarms began to ring.
"PREPARE FOR ATTACK!"
His voice echoed through the frozen air, carrying a single message to every soldier on the border.
The Silent Nightmare had returned.
The crawling beneath the snow suddenly came to a halt.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then the ground shifted, and the creature rose slowly from beneath the frozen earth, its long body emerging the way a crocodile surfaced from a river. Snow slid off its armored hide as it lifted its head, revealing a pair of cold, predatory eyes fixed on the wall.
Vaelor felt his blood run cold the instant he saw them.
He knew those eyes.
Without raising his voice, he turned to the nearest runner and spoke with deadly certainty. He ordered word to be sent to the higher command, informing them that the enemy was not ordinary monsters. What stood before them were Lupy and Mortivex—names that carried weight even among veterans.
The moment the warning spread, the wall transformed into a battlefield.
Hundreds of guards moved into position with disciplined precision. Magical swordsmen stepped forward, mana flowing through their blades as spells were fused directly into steel, turning each weapon into a conduit of destruction. Ogres and half-ogres took the front line, planting their massive shields into the stone and forming an unbreakable barrier.
Above them, elf archers climbed into position, calm and focused. Their bows glowed faintly as they prepared arrows embedded with destructive magic seeds. Behind the formations, goblins rushed about with sharp efficiency, assembling mechanisms and preparing traps only their kind could design.
The Wall of Jarago stood silent, waiting.
Then the snowfield erupted.
Note :- Luby (Group-Type Monster)
Small, insectoid abominations that hunt in packs.
Bone-thin legs scrape the ground as they move together.
Their swollen heads carry a single hollow eye that never blinks.
Wide mouths hang open, packed with crooked teeth.
Short spikes grow from their skulls and spines.
They surround prey instead of chasing.
Once close, they tear flesh apart through numbers alone.
Thousands of scorpion-like creatures (Luby) burst from beneath the ground and surged forward in a relentless tide. Though smaller than true monsters, each one was the size of a large hound. They screeched as they ran, mandibles clicking as they rushed toward the wall in overwhelming numbers.
They were mindless beasts, driven by hunger alone. They devoured any living being in their path—except dragons, whose scales they could not pierce.
Vaelor watched the swarm advance, their cries cutting through the frozen air. He gave the order for the rear units to engage, directing the elves and goblins to attack.
The elf archers drew their bows as one. A low chant rose among them as they called upon the great spirits, asking for victory. When the arrows were released, the sky itself seemed to tremble.
Explosions tore through the charging creatures. The magic seeds detonated on impact, ripping bodies apart and staining the snow dark. Wave after wave collapsed before reaching the wall.
Before the remaining Lupy could regroup, the goblins acted.
Barrels began rolling down from the wall—hundreds of them—bouncing violently as they descended toward the swarm. The creatures lunged instinctively, tearing into the barrels with savage hunger.
That was when the trap was sprung.
The barrels had been sealed with the air inside removed. When the creatures broke them open, the sudden vacuum dragged flesh and bone inward with brutal force. A heartbeat later, the barrels detonated, explosions ripping through the front lines and tearing the monsters apart from within.
The battlefield shook beneath the combined force of magic and ingenuity.
Vaelor watched the carnage without relief. His eyes remained fixed on the distant snowfield, his instincts screaming a warning.
Because he knew this was not the end.
It was only the opening move.
The Lupy continued to charge forward, their numbers thinning but their hunger undiminished. Those that survived the bombardment pressed on, clawing through scorched snow until they finally reached the wall.
The moment they crossed a certain distance, the air itself trembled.
An invisible force erupted outward.
The creatures were violently thrown back as if struck by an unseen giant hand, their bodies crashing into one another before tumbling lifelessly across the ground. A faint, translucent barrier shimmered into view, spanning the length of the wall like a dome of light.
It was the force shield of the Atlantis Kingdom.
A spell engraved into the land itself—woven by Queen Erza using Zani particles, forming a massive defensive field that no ordinary creature could breach.
Vaelor let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. A slow smile spread across his face as he watched the remaining Lupy recoil, their movements faltering.
"The Atlantis Kingdom is blessed by its Queen," Vaelor said, his voice carrying pride rather than arrogance. "Look closely. Even beasts without reason understand fear when they face Her Majesty's magic."
The Lupy lowered their bodies, sniffing the air near the shield. Their screeches faded into uneasy growls. Fear spread through the swarm, an instinctual terror rooted deep in their kind. They knew this power. They knew that provoking the Queen of Atlantis meant annihilation—not just for them, but for their nests as well.
The battlefield fell into a strange silence.
Then a voice rose from the wall.
"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"
Another followed.
"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"
Soon, the chant spread like wildfire.
"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!
LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!
LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"
Vaelor laughed openly, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He rested a hand on his weapon, shaking his head in amusement.
"I thought I would have to transform today," he said, sounding almost disappointed. "Looks like that won't be necessary after all."
One of the soldiers nearby chuckled, lowering his weapon.
"Yes, Warden Captain," the soldier replied. "It's a shame we won't get to see your transformation. But a victory without casualties is better."
Vaelor was about to respond when something felt wrong.
The ground trembled.
Not from explosions.
Not from magic.
From weight.
Vaelor's smile faded as he turned his gaze toward the snowfield beyond the fallen Lupy. Something was moving beneath the surface—fast, massive, and deliberate. The snow parted violently as an enormous shape surged forward.
For a brief, horrifying second, some soldiers thought it was Mellissa herself—one of the great beings of Atlantis—arriving at the border.
But they were wrong.
The creature rose from the snow, its body long and serpentine, stretching farther than the eye could follow. Its scales were dark and jagged, its presence crushing the air itself.
Silence fell across the wall.
Soldiers froze.
An elf's bow slipped from trembling fingers.
A swordsman's blade shook uncontrollably.
Even the goblins—masters of traps and schemes—went pale.
One of them whispered, voice breaking.
"This… this wasn't what we agreed to fight."
Another swallowed hard.
"This isn't a Creature."
Vaelor's eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming as he stared at the towering form before them.
"This," someone said in disbelief, "is a true absurd nightmare monster."
The shield still stood.
Note:-Mortivex
A towering parasitic horror rising like a living tower.
Its body is long, ridged, and scarred beyond age.
The head is a massive flesh-sack crowned with jagged horns.
No eyes—only sealed pits.
Its mouth is a circular abyss of inward teeth.
Long tendrils pierce shields and bodies alike.
Each movement shatters ground and hope.
Mortivex does not hunt.
It arrives to erase.
Mortivex's massive head lowered slowly, its countless eyes fixing upon the wall as though measuring the worth of every life standing there.
Then it screamed.
The sound was not merely loud—it was wrong. It scraped against the soul, burrowed into the chest, and crushed the will to stand. The air vibrated violently, snow collapsing from the battlements in heavy sheets. Several soldiers fell to their knees, hands clutched over their ears, mouths open in silent terror.
A goblin dropped his spear.
Another turned and ran.
Fear spread faster than any command. When one formation collapsed, others followed. Discipline—something built through years of training—shattered in seconds. Cries overlapped, orders went unheard, and chaos took root upon the wall.
Vaelor did not retreat.
He watched it all.
Then, without hesitation, he bit down hard on his own hand.
Blood spilled freely, warm against frozen stone. Pain surged through him—and with it, clarity. Mana answered his will, flooding his body violently. A roar tore from his throat, deep and primal, as thick mist exploded outward and swallowed him whole.
Bones shifted. Muscles tore and reformed. Scales spread across his skin like living armor.
When the mist thinned, a dragon stood where Vaelor had been.
Not a sky-dominating behemoth, but a compact, battle-forged form—dense with power, built for war rather than spectacle. His wings unfolded slowly, deliberately, and he stepped beyond the force shield, placing himself between the soldiers and the nightmare before them.
His voice rolled across the wall like thunder.
"My soldiers."
The chaos faltered.
"Look at yourselves."
His gaze swept across trembling hands, dropped weapons, and fearful eyes.
"Is this how you intend to die?"
The words cut deeper than fear itself.
"Is this how you intend to be remembered?"
Soldiers froze. Goblins stopped mid-step. Even the ogres stiffened, their instincts battling his command.
A goblin finally cried out, voice shaking.
"This is a monster! It will devour us! It will break the force shield!"
Vaelor's eyes burned brighter.
He raised his head and roared, the sound shaking the wall.
"DO YOU THINK OUR QUEEN IS WEAK?"
The battlefield fell silent.
"DO YOU BELIEVE SHE WOULD CAST A SPELL THAT COULD NOT PROTECT YOU?"
His wings spread wide, casting a massive shadow over the soldiers.
"OR DO YOU THINK SHE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR LIVES—THAT SHE WOULD LEAVE YOU HERE TO DIE WITHOUT PURPOSE?"
No one spoke.
Because they knew the answer.
They had seen Erza stand beside common soldiers. They had seen her protect even the lowliest race if they proved their worth. She ruled not through fear, but through unwavering resolve.
Vaelor lowered his voice, but its weight only deepened.
"My soldiers… do not fear death."
He took a step forward.
"Fear dying without meaning."
He looked toward the kingdom beyond the wall.
"When exhaustion crushes you… when despair whispers that you cannot go on… think of the people sleeping peacefully behind this wall."
"Think of the families who believe you will protect them."
His claws scraped against stone.
"If these creatures break through—will they survive?"
Silence answered him.
"No," Vaelor said quietly. "They will not."
"That is why they are not standing here."
His voice rose again.
"You are."
"You were chosen to stand at the border of nightmare."
"To be the final wall between life and extinction."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"So do not abandon your duty."
"Do not betray their trust."
"Raise your weapons."
"Lift your heads."
"Let your enemy see your eyes."
His roar shook the sky.
"LET THEM KNOW THAT EVEN IN FEAR—YOU WILL STAND."
For a long heartbeat, nothing moved.
Then a shield slammed into place.
A sword was raised.
Another.
And another.
A unified scream erupted from the wall, tearing through the frozen air—fear transformed into resolve, despair forged into defiance.
Vaelor smiled, sharp and fierce.
This was not the end.
This was the moment Atlantis proved why it still stood.
Mortivex slammed its massive body against the force shield.
The impact echoed like a collapsing mountain. Beneath it, the Luby swarm surged forward, clawing and gnawing at the invisible barrier. Their talons screeched as they scraped against the spell, sparks of distorted mana flashing where claws met resistance.
The shield did not break.
It bent—slightly—but held.
The colossal worm-like body of Mortivex twisted and writhed, its sheer size testing the limits of the enchantment. Even for such a monstrous being, penetrating Erza's spell was not something that could be done quickly.
Vaelor did not wait.
With a beat of his wings, he launched himself forward, the air screaming as he closed the distance. His scaled fist drew back, mana compressing tightly around it, and then—
He struck.
Compared to Mortivex's head, his fist was small. Insignificant, even.
Yet the moment it connected, the impact detonated outward. A shockwave rippled through the snowfield, and Mortivex's massive head snapped violently to the side. The creature let out a distorted howl as its body lost balance, crashing heavily into the frozen ground.
Above the wall, the soldiers did not waste the opening.
Spells rained down. Blades glowed with spirit energy. Arrows screamed through the air like falling stars. One by one, the Luby were torn apart—burned, crushed, pierced—until the ground beneath the wall was littered with hundreds of lifeless bodies.
The snow was no longer white.
Vaelor turned back just in time.
Mortivex surged upward with terrifying speed, rage twisting its grotesque form. Its massive head slammed forward—
And struck Vaelor head-on.
The force was overwhelming.
Vaelor's body was hurled backward like a broken weapon, crashing violently into the force shield. The spell flared brightly as it absorbed the impact, preventing him from being crushed outright.
He slid down slowly, wings trembling.
For a moment, the world spun.
Vaelor dragged in a deep, ragged breath, then another. Pain screamed through his body. He lifted his head—and froze.
Mortivex was watching him.
Not attacking. Not roaring.
Watching.
As if waiting for the shield to fail so it could finish the kill.
"Shit…" Vaelor muttered under his breath.
He could feel it—the soldiers' eyes on him. He knew what they were seeing: a wounded captain, bloodied and struggling to stand. If he fell now, their fighting spirit would collapse with him.
Before fear could spread, movement erupted around him.
Magical swordsmen leapt down from the wall, forming a defensive perimeter without hesitation. Their blades hummed with mana as they faced Mortivex. Moments later, elven healers followed, hands glowing softly as they pressed magic into Vaelor's wounds.
Warmth spread through his body, dulling the pain just enough to keep him conscious.
The shield shimmered overhead.
Without it, they would have been dead long ago.
Vaelor clenched his jaw.
"Why…" he growled, breath heavy, "would a disaster-level threat appear here?"
His eyes burned with frustration.
"I received no warning. No orders."
He spat blood onto the ground.
"Does High Command even know what we're facing?"
"…Or do they simply not care who dies?"
Silence answered him.
Then—
A voice.
Small. Calm. Almost amused.
"Vaelor… son of mixed-blood dragon."
Vaelor's body stiffened.
"I did not expect a dragon like you to fall so easily."
Slowly, Vaelor lifted his gaze.
Atop the wall stood a boy.
Human—undeniably so.
Yet the moment Vaelor felt his presence, his breath caught in his throat.
This wasn't normal.
The boy's aura poured outward silently, crushing, suffocating. Even the strongest soldiers nearby felt their knees weaken as instinct screamed at them to flee.
Soldiers shouted in anger.
"How dare you speak of our captain like that!"
They moved—
And stopped.
Fear seized them instantly. Not fear born of battle—but of death itself. The boy hadn't moved. Hadn't raised his voice.
He simply stood there, arms crossed.
The posture of someone who did not need to threaten.
Mortivex turned.
Its massive head shifted away from Vaelor, eyes locking onto the child. The battlefield seemed to shrink around them as its attention narrowed.
The boy's gaze was cold.
He looked at the grotesque creature tearing through his land, expression unreadable.
Then he spoke.
"Such an ugly creature… dared to threaten my home."
His voice did not tremble.
"You deserve no mercy."
The wind stilled.
The battlefield held its breath.
To be continued.