The Flesh Congregant lunged, its multi-limbs slamming into the broken tiles with enough force to send cracks spidering across the hall floor. The stench of blood and rot poured from its misshapen maw as it screeched, rattling the broken windows.
Kane raised his blade, aura flaring."Team! Hold the flanks—keep its arms off me! Mage—handle the pheromone swarm!"
[Warlord's Command Activated]
— Nearby allies gain +15% attack power, +10% defense, +10% morale.
A visible ripple of energy spread from Kane, washing across his allies. Their stances steadied, eyes sharpened, and fear dulled into grim determination.
"On it!" the mage barked, raising his staff. Mana coiled at his fingertips, glowing blue. The first streak of fire surged down the hallway, lighting the tide of shrieking mutants pouring in from shattered windows and doors.
The pheromone had done its work—lesser creatures came in droves, clawing, snapping, eager to feed.
Kane's [Warlord's Wrath] flared. His body surged with unnatural strength, his blade cutting arcs of steel-light through the monster's limbs. One arm came down—he sidestepped, pivoted, and cleaved it off at the joint. The limb writhed, flesh bubbling as it tried to stitch itself back together.
"Regeneration. Figures." Kane's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll tear it faster than it can heal."
He drove forward, blade aimed for the glowing mana core half-visible beneath shifting flesh. The Congregant roared, rearing back, then slammed both clawed limbs down. Kane raised his weapon, bracing with sheer force. Tiles shattered beneath his boots. His muscles strained—but the aura of Wrath let him shove the monster's weight aside, creating an opening.
"Hit it now!"
Two fighters leapt in, blades and axes biting into the creature's torso. Flesh burst like rotten fruit—but already tendrils twisted around their weapons, trying to bind.
Kane surged again, his aura flaring brighter.
[War Cry Activated]
— Enemies suffer -15% morale, -10% agility for 20 seconds.
The monster spasmed, its strikes slowing just enough for the fighters to rip free.
At the edges of the hall, chaos brewed. Dozens of pheromone-drawn mutants crashed into the strike team's perimeter. The mage chanted, fire spreading like a whip across the swarm. A volley of drone fire cut them down in waves—metal fangs of Kane's deployed guardians striking with precision.
Still, more came.
"Don't let them through!" Lena shouted, spearing one mutant clean through. Maya's blade flashed beside her, cutting down another.
The mage, drenched in sweat, held his staff high. "One more spell—clear me space!"
The fighters shielded him, buying seconds as he unleashed a firestorm that burned half the hallway into ash.
Kane's blade finally found purchase near the Congregant's core. Sparks and blood erupted as he struck, driving his weapon deep. The monster howled, staggering, its limbs flailing wildly.
"NOW! Focus the weak point!" Kane barked, his aura amplifying every word. His team surged as one, hacking, striking, shooting at the glowing mass.
The Congregant reeled backward, shrieking—then Kane's fist, backed by [Warlord's Wrath], slammed into the exposed mana node.
A crack split the air. Energy bled out, veins across its body flashing like lightning.
For a moment, victory seemed within reach.
Then the core shifted.
Its glow deepened, bleeding into sickly crimson. Flesh across its body writhed, mutating further, expanding, tearing, rebuilding faster than before. Its arms split into four. A new maw ripped open across its abdomen.
The system chimed.
[System Alert!]
Mutation Triggered!
Boss: [Flesh Congregant] has ascended.
[Current Combat Level: 23]
— Warning: Enemy combat power exceeds safe threshold by ~10 levels.
Special Quest Triggered: [Break the Congregant]
Objectives:– Defeat the Mutated Boss before it fully stabilizes.– Prevent swarm pheromones from overrunning the college.
Rewards (per participant):
– 50 Free Stat Points.
– +1 Skill (Profession-linked).
– 5000 Coins.
Additional Rewards:
— Performance Ranking will grant bonus loot, rare skills, or profession-linked advancement.
Failure Penalty:
– 25% stat reduction for 7 days.
– Permanent morale penalty to surviving fighters.
The strike team staggered at the sight of the fully mutated horror.
Kane spat blood, lifted his blade again, and growled, "Then we finish this. No one runs. No one falters. This is our war."
[Warlord's Wrath Intensifies]
The battle for survival—and the chance to rise—truly began.
The Flesh Congregant's roar shook the college hall, glass shattering from its guttural cry. Its twisted body had now swollen to fill nearly half the chamber—arms writhing like serpents, its abdominal maw snapping hungrily. The crimson glow of its unstable core pulsed like a heart about to burst, spilling mana into the air.
It lashed out. One strike hurled a fighter clear across the room, smashing him into a wall. Another nearly severed a drone midair, but Kane's mental command jerked it aside just in time.
"Keep pressure on it!" Kane bellowed, aura still surging from [Warlord's Wrath].
Reina's toys moved in unison—small as dolls, but growing, their forms bulking with mana as they launched themselves at the monster's limbs. The rabbit guardian blurred, darting faster than human eyes could follow, slamming into tendons and knees. The iron brute tore into one of the Congregant's abdominal maws, prying it open with metallic arms before being flung aside.
The twins, still wrapped in blankets, could only watch from the safety of the barricaded side hall. Maya and Lena guarded them like hawks, slashing down swarming mutants that still broke through the mage's fiery wards.
But the Flesh Congregant would not fall. Every limb they severed, every wound they carved, sealed within seconds, rebuilding faster than their blades could bite.
[System Warning!]
Final Escalation Detected.Boss [Flesh Congregant] is nearing a critical mutation threshold.— If not destroyed within the next 60 seconds, it will stabilize permanently at Level 23+.
Danger: Wipeout probability at 89%.
The voice rang in every mind. The fighters' faces paled. Even the mage, blood dripping from his nose, nearly faltered in his chant.
Kane gritted his teeth. His knuckles whitened around his weapon."Tch. Damn it all… we don't have a choice anymore."
He dismissed his sword back into storage with a thought. His hand hovered over the deep arsenal hidden within his system. The experimental weapons. The ones he had sworn to use only when absolutely necessary.
Not yet tested in true battle. Not yet stable. Dangerous—both to the enemy and himself.
But the time for hesitation was gone.
Kane's voice boomed over the din of the battle, commanding every ear:"Everyone—fall into sync! On my mark, we strike together!"
His hand closed around the familiar weight as the [Experimental Gatling System] roared into being. The barrels spun instantly, rattling with an almost hungry vibration. Another experimental launcher flared into existence, its mana-core thrumming so violently that cracks of light bled across the casing.
Drones swarmed to his side, aligning their firing lines. The fighters raised their weapons, adrenaline wiping the fear from their faces.
The Flesh Congregant screeched and lunged—its colossal frame blotting out the fractured moonlight spilling into the ruined hall.
Kane leveled the Gatling, his aura burning like a sun behind him.
"NOW! ALL AT ONCE!"
The rattling roar of the experimental weapon drowned out everything else as the barrels spun to their full speed, mana-charged rounds screaming toward the abomination.
And in that instant—the world held its breath.