The boats slid into the broken harbor, hulls scraping against shattered concrete. Smoke still lingered above the ruins, a constant reminder of humanity's downfall.
"Drones, deploy," Kane ordered.
At once, the air filled with mechanical hums as dozens of units rose into the gray dawn sky. Scout drones zipped ahead, mapping routes. Missile and assault drones fanned out in sweeping arcs, engines pulsing with barely contained energy.
The strike team disembarked, boots crunching across blackened glass and ash. The air reeked of rot, blood, and burned oil.
"Formation," Kane said.
The fighters fell into a tight vanguard. Reina stayed in the center, her guardians—now towering at nine feet tall—flanking her. The rabbit's body radiated speed, ears twitching like antennae for danger. The robot's frame, armored and angular, carried the weight of unstoppable force.
The first clash came sooner than expected.
From alleys and broken storefronts, the swarms emerged—twisted humanoids, jaws dislocated into grotesque maws, limbs elongated and hooked with bone-spikes. Their shrieks tore through the silence.
"Engage."
The drones descended like a storm. Assault units spat streams of bullets, cutting mutants in half mid-charge. Missile drones locked and fired, detonating clusters in bursts of fire and flesh. The ground shook with every blast.
But the true shockwave came from Reina's guardians.
The rabbit blurred—a white phantom in motion. It bounded through the horde, claws slashing with precision too fast for the eye to follow. Each mutant it touched fell in pieces, cut down before they could react. Its agility exceeded even the fastest fighters present, leaving the soldiers stunned.
Beside it, the robot stood like a moving fortress. Its fists alone were weapons; every strike caved in skulls, shattered spines, and tore mutants apart like brittle clay. A swing of its massive arm obliterated three in a single sweep, their bodies scattering like broken dolls.
"...Monsters fighting monsters," Maya muttered, awestruck.
Kane didn't answer. His focus was forward. The library loomed in the distance, its shattered dome still standing like a beacon. The swarm was thickening.
As the fight raged, the system chimed one by one:
[Level Up: Kane – Level 12][Level Up: Lena – Level 11][Level Up: Maya – Level 11][Level Up: Reina – Level 11][Toy Guardian (Rabbit): Level 7][Toy Guardian (Robot): Level 7]
Kane smirked. Good. The faster they grow, the better our odds.
Hour by hour, they advanced, step by bloody step. Every intersection was contested, every street a battlefield. The drones swept rooftops, clearing nests of flyers before they could dive. On the ground, soldiers fought in pairs, their profession perks starting to shine—enhanced reflexes, sharper strikes, sturdier defenses.
By the time they reached the square before the library, half the team was bloodied but alive. The piles of corpses stretched higher than men. The air quivered with heat and smoke.
And that was when Kane saw him.
Collapsed beside a ruined fountain, a lone survivor clutched a staff cobbled from scrap metal and etched with glowing blue runes. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot, but the sparks around his hands told a story clearer than words.
He raised a trembling palm, and a bolt of searing flame tore through an approaching mutant, burning it to ash.
The fighters froze in shock. One muttered, "Magic…"
Kane only stepped forward, his boots crunching glass. His eyes, cold and calculating, met the survivor's.
"Not surprised," Kane said flatly. "If abominations like that can exist…" he tilted his head toward the looming library, "…then magic's just another piece of this new world."
The survivor sagged in relief, though he looked half-dead from exhaustion.
"Please…" he rasped. "My name… Elias. Don't leave me here."
Kane reached out and hauled him to his feet without hesitation. "You're coming with us. But keep your strength. You'll need it inside."
The fighters exchanged uneasy glances, but no one objected.
All eyes turned to the library's broken doors. Beyond them, the boss waited.
Kane's grip tightened around his weapon. The faint sound of shifting flesh echoed from within, as though the monster already knew they had arrived.
"Form up," Kane commanded, his tone sharp as steel. "This ends today."
And together, they crossed the threshold.
The doors to the college groaned as Kane pushed them open. The interior smelled of dust, rot, and old wood. Cracked lecture hall benches lay overturned, papers scattered across the floor like leaves. Faded banners of the city's crest still hung from the ceiling, fluttering faintly as if the building itself breathed with unease.
The survivors moved in quietly, weapons ready. Reina clung to Kane's sleeve, her toys shrinking into their smaller forms to fit through the narrow corridors. Even in their small state, the aura of menace they carried made the fighters relax a little—they knew those guardians were unmatched in brute efficiency.
"We'll use this place to regroup," Kane decided. His voice cut through the heavy silence. "Before we fight that boss outside, everyone needs to allocate their stats. Half-measures will get us killed."
The fighters nodded, expressions tense.
One by one, system notifications shimmered in front of their eyes. The dim light of broken windows glinted across glowing screens only they could see.
Kane sat on the broken desk of a lecture hall and pulled up his own panel.
[Level 12 Achieved][Free Stat Points: 9 available][Natural Stat Growth Applied: +2 to all attributes][Profession Bonus Applied: +2 to all attributes]
He exhaled sharply as the numbers rolled upward, his body already feeling the subtle increase—muscles tighter, reactions sharper, vision clearer. The Warlord class amplified every gain, multiplying his growth in a way no ordinary survivor could match.
Around him, the others were experiencing the same.
Lena gripped her weapon tighter, her aura heavier than before as her profession boosted her agility and reflexes. Maya stretched her fingers, sparks of faint energy flowing through her veins—a benefit of her support-oriented class. Even Elias, though still drained, had his attributes surge with the natural and profession growth. The mage's flames, when he conjured a brief test, burned brighter and steadier than before.
"Feels like I could run for days," one of the younger fighters muttered, staring at his hands in awe.
"That's your profession kicking in," Kane told him. "Get used to it. Every level from here on matters more than the last."
"Allocate your free points wisely," Kane continued. "Don't just dump them randomly. Strength, agility, endurance—those keep you alive. Intelligence and perception… they'll sharpen your skills, your awareness, and for some, your abilities. Balance is survival."
He spoke with the calm certainty of a commander, and the group listened like soldiers before a general.
Reina raised her hand timidly. "Onii-chan… do I do it too?"
Kane's stern features softened. He crouched in front of her, brushing her hair back. "Yes. But don't worry—you'll get stronger no matter what. Your guardians grow with you. Just keep safe, and let them handle the hard fights."
Reina nodded, her toys glowing faintly in response. Even in their shrunken forms, they vibrated as if resonating with her rising stats.
The lecture hall soon filled with quiet murmurs as each survivor adjusted their stat panels. The glow of system notifications painted their tired faces, but for the first time since stepping into the city, a sense of hope lingered.
Kane stood and slung his weapon over his shoulder. "Good. We're stronger now. But remember—stats and professions aren't a shield. They only make us capable. We still need to fight smart."
He glanced toward the tall glass windows. The library dome loomed in the distance, and with it, the monstrous presence waiting inside.
"We'll search for the twins first," Kane ordered. "They might still be alive. Once we secure them, we take the boss. No unnecessary risks. No distractions."
Elias shifted uneasily, gripping his staff. "That thing near the library… I can feel it. Its aura is… wrong."
Kane's eyes hardened. "I know. That's why we'll be ready."
The team adjusted their gear, double-checked weapons, and steeled themselves. For a brief moment, the college halls felt like a war camp—a fragile haven before the storm.
Then Kane gave the signal.
"Move out. We finish this at dawn."
The strike team pushed deeper into the college, footsteps echoing through the hollow halls, the tension of their next battle already pressing down like a weight.