The boats approached the coast at full speed. The further they advanced, the more evident the chaos became. The air was thick with screams, the clashing of metal, and roars that overlapped one another.
Irregularly shaped creatures burst forth from the strait, climbed up the docks, and charged without order. The liquidators had been taken by surprise and were being overwhelmed.
—At this rate, they're going to massacre us —the captain said, her gaze fixed on the coast—. Pull us in from the south! There seem to be fewer monsters there!
—Yes, captain! —the boat's driver shouted, swerving sharply.
—Aren't monsters supposed to be a civilized race that mostly inhabits the north? —Zein asked.
—Yes, but there are also those who do not reason —Naoko responded without looking away—. They call them "savages." They are the closest thing to the Fatum… the closest thing to mana.
—And is it common to see something like this?
—Of course not. Since the explosion, it's normal to see small, isolated attacks… but not this —she said, gritting her teeth—. Someone is organizing them.
The ship was now close enough to distinguish faces, broken weapons, and bodies that did not get back up.
— At last I will be able to try those spells that I learned from Kio in the last few days—Zein said with a firm voice.
Before anyone could react, Zein had already launched himself off the ship.
The wind exploded around him as he propelled himself with magic. The space between the boat and the dock disappeared in an instant. Below, the wood and iron of the pier stretched out like an open wound, covered in bodies twitching without coordination.
During the fall, the air snatched the breath from his lungs. Zein clenched his right hand tightly.
The mana responded immediately.
The sword took shape in his grip—solid, familiar. In mid-descent, he swung it over his head, adjusting his posture as if the void were just another floor. His body tensed, ready for impact.
The blade descended diagonally along with his body and sank into the flesh of an aberration just as his feet touched the dock. The impact was blunt and brutal; the resistance lasted barely a heartbeat before giving way, and the body split under the combined force of the fall and the edge. The wood groaned upon receiving him, splintering under his knees as he landed in a crouch, and dark blood splashed the planks before sliding between the cracks.
As he rose, the deformities surrounding him reacted in unison: twisted heads turning toward him, bodies tensing, claws scratching the wood with a harsh sound as the circle closed in little by little.
—That idiot… —the captain managed to say before raising her voice—. Quick, let's disembark so we can support him!
Every creature that approached found a precise edge waiting for it; the cuts were direct, efficient, without unnecessary flair, and the bodies fell one after another onto the dock as if the rhythm of the battle were set for him alone. There was no rage in his movements, only absolute concentration—an unsettling fluidity that made it seem natural to cut through flesh and bone even against aberrations he had never faced before.
When the pressure mounted and the space began to close in, he changed his pace without thinking: he dropped to one knee suddenly, pressed a hand to the ground, and mana flowed downward. The wood and earth responded with violence; stone spikes emerged in an instant, impaling several creatures from below, lifting them before letting them fall limp amidst dry crunches.
He had no time to retreat; other figures lunged at him at the same time, surrounding him, pinning his arms and denying him movement, the air growing heavy with damp breaths and clumsy bodies, until heat exploded from his center. A wave of fire erupted around him, engulfing the creatures holding him; the bodies shuddered, involuntarily released their grip, and collapsed wrapped in dull flames.
The relief lasted only an instant. A blunt impact jolted his back, followed by another. Rocks thrown at brutal speed struck him from above. Zein managed to turn and dodge some, but others found their mark and knocked the wind out of him. Looking up, he discerned deformed figures suspended in the air, hurling projectiles relentlessly. A stone hit his arm dead on, and the sword went flying, spinning over itself before falling far away among the monsters.
Without wasting time, he pressed both hands together in front of his chest. The mana compressed into a dense point and, upon release, a jet of water erupted with devastating pressure, piercing through the air like a liquid lance. The floating figures were pierced one after another, falling from the heights with twisted bodies that crashed against the pier.
As he spun around, he sensed the change in the battlefield. Every spell, every discharge of mana, seemed to draw more creatures toward his position. The aberrations were no longer moving at random; they were converging from different points, closing ranks. Zein struck the ground hard, and the stone responded instantly, climbing up his forearms to form rough, heavy gauntlets. He planted his feet, leaned his body forward, and took a deep breath.
Then he charged. He fought his way through with blows, each impact shattering bones, toppling bodies, and knocking out enemies one after another. The resistance built up in his arms, his shoulders, and every forced exhale, but he did not stop. As he advanced through the tide of monsters, a thought slipped into his mind.
"How weak… This doesn't compare at all to the training with Lucian," he thought. "Was he that strong… or are these things just that fragile?"
Whatever it was, Zein had no intention of stopping. Upon recovering his sword, the familiar weight returned his stability and focus. He dove back into combat with renewed precision, and the monsters began to fall under clean cuts.
In the distance, a new sound rose above the chaos: sharp, repeated detonations. The muskets of his company roared from elevated positions, and after each shot, another body collapsed. The dock no longer depended on him alone.
Amidst the metallic roar and the shrieks of the aberrations, a human cry managed to break through the chaos, clear and heavy with urgency.
—Idiot! Why do you head into danger alone?! And even worse, without using reinforcement magic! —someone shouted from nearby.
Before Zein could react, the captain burst into the fray at his side. She brandished a sword unlike any he had seen: more curved, with a thin blade and a single edge, lacking the wide crossguard of the weapons he knew. It wasn't made for heavy blows, but for quick, precise cuts executed with fluid movements. Together they advanced through the enemies, sometimes back-to-back, alternating attacks without needing to look at each other. Corpses piled up on the dock, forming improvised obstacles among dark puddles, splintered wood, and still-smoldering remnants of dissipated mana.
In the middle of that lethal rhythm, something broke. A fist suddenly appeared in front of Zein's face. He didn't see it coming, too immersed in the flow of combat, but his body reacted before his mind. To him, the blow moved with an absurd slowness. He barely tilted his torso, just enough for the attack to cut the air in front of his face.
As he turned, he met his attacker. It wasn't a twisted aberration like the others, but a more uniform figure with proportions close to human, though its silhouette remained unnatural. It was then that he realized the magnitude of what he had dodged: the shockwave of the blow shook the entire pier, lifting planks and tossing several corpses into the air like weightless dolls.
Zein and the captain leaped back, putting distance between themselves and the creature.
—It's strong… very strong —Zein said, without taking his eyes off the monster.
—Yes. One of its hits could kill us if we aren't careful —she responded, adjusting her stance.
They shared a brief glance and nodded at the same time. With most of the aberrations reduced to lifeless bodies on the dock, all their attention centered on the humanoid creature. They advanced in unison, attacking from opposite flanks. The blades traced precise arcs, seeking vital points, but the result was not what they expected. The monster's skin barely gave way, as if they were cutting a material that was too dense, and though they managed to sever flesh and tear off limbs, they did not remain inert. Before their eyes, the mutilated edges began to close slowly, the matter deforming and recomposing itself with an unsettling patience.
Both stepped back, without looking away from the creature. In silence, the monster observed Zein and adopted a stance he recognized instantly: it joined its hands in the same way he had done before. A pulse of mana rippled through the air and, without warning, a jet of water was fired toward them.
The speed of the attack surpassed any attempt to dodge. The impact was immediate. Zein's barrier strained to its limit and managed to absorb most of the blow, pushing him back several steps while the ground became soaked beneath his feet. Beside him, the captain took the attack head-on; her reinforcement magic held up just enough to prevent major damage, but the force of the jet tore away part of her mask. The fragment hit the ground with a dry thud, exposing a lock of her hair that fluttered, drenched, in the middle of the mana-saturated air.
Her hair had a faint turquoise hue, one that felt unsettlingly familiar to him. It reminded him of Naoko.
"Naoko...?" he thought. "No. It's impossible for it to be her."
That moment of distraction cost him dearly. The sight of the exposed lock of hair robbed Zein of a fraction of a second, barely a blink, but it was enough. The monster lunged and threw a direct, brutal blow, far too close to dodge. Zein reacted out of pure instinct, stacking layers of barrier magic one on top of the other in a desperate attempt to withstand the impact. The defense held only halfway. The force broke through the protections and sent him flying through the air, crashing him into a pile of corpses that gave way under his weight with a wet, thudding sound.
Zein lay among the mangled bodies, the air escaping his chest in short gasps. Pain flared through his torso and arms, forcing him to writhe as he struggled to regain control of his breathing. A few meters away, the captain did not stop.
She took advantage of the opening and maintained the pressure on the creature, attacking without giving it a moment's rest, cutting again and again into the already damaged areas. Her strikes didn't seek power, but consistency, repeatedly interrupting the regeneration before the wounds could close completely.
Gritter his teeth, Zein raised a trembling hand and channeled a basic healing magic. The relief was minimal, just enough to move again, but he didn't wait any longer. He stood up with effort, ignoring the persistent burning beneath his skin, and threw himself back into the fight.
This time they attacked together, without pauses or retreats, overwhelming the monster with an uninterrupted succession of blows. The creature's defenses finally gave way, and its body was split into sections that fell onto the pier, still convulsing in a useless attempt to pull itself back together.
Among the remains that were still slowly writhing on the soaked wood, something different caught their attention. There, in the middle of the deformed mass, lay a black sphere—intact and detached from the chaos surrounding it, as if it didn't quite belong to that field of death.
—What is that? —Zein asked, touching it with the tip of his sword.
—Its core —the captain responded—. And without it...
She didn't finish the sentence. She stepped forward and pierced the black sphere with a clean movement. In that same instant, the fragments of flesh and bone scattered across the dock went still, as if something invisible had switched them off from the inside.
—Without it, they can no longer regenerate —she continued, lowering her weapon.
Zein let himself fall to the ground, exhaustion hitting him all at once now that it was all over. His breathing was heavy and irregular. All around him, the invasion had been completely repelled; the pier was covered in corpses, broken wood, and dark puddles that reflected an unsettlingly calm sky.
He looked up and glanced at the captain. She held his gaze for a moment, and then Zein, without saying a word, gave her a faint smile.