"Hold the line!"
The scream tore through the humid air, barely audible over the convulsive shaking of the earth. Dust rained from the ramparts, coating the sweat-slicked faces of the villagers in a layer of gray dread.
"For how long?" a young man cried, his voice cracking as he shoved a spear against the groaning timber of the barricade.
"Until the stone breaks or we do!"
Beside him, a farmer roared a command. A summoned rock elemental heaved a boulder over the wall. The stone crashed into the sea of fur and gnashing teeth below, crushing three feral wolves into paste. Six more scrambled over the corpses of their kin, claws scrabbling against the stones, eyes burning with starvation.
"Chief! The western barricade is buckling!" shouted a woman clutching a pistol. A trembling Lightning Imp perched on her shoulder, sparking with nervous energy. "We can't hold them all!"
On the battlements, Village Chief Felix stood like a weathered statue. He was a bear of a man in his forties, his graying beard matted with grime. He glared down at the wavering line of defenders—farmers, bakers, and smiths armed with farming tools and basic weapons. They were Rank 0 and Rank 1 fighting for their lives.
"Look at me!" Felix bellowed. "You want to jump? Go ahead! Make a meal of yourselves! It'll save the monsters the trouble of climbing!"
He pointed his calloused finger toward the stone chapel in the village center behind them.
"Or you can use your heads! Our wives, our husbands, our children, and our families are huddled in that dark hall. They are waiting for us. They are praying for us!"
His summon, a weary but massive storm eagle, shrieked from the skies above. It beat its wings, sending crescents of compressed air slicing through the vanguard of the monster tide.
"Until help arrives," Felix drew his broadsword, "I will spend every drop of mana, every ounce of strength, and every pint of blood to keep this filth away from my family! Who stands with me?"
A battle cry answered him. Fear transmuted into adrenaline. Summons flared to life along the wall. Fire Imps spat embers; Vine Snakes lashed out to strangle climbing beasts. It was a chaotic, desperate symphony of survival.
But the tide was relentless.
CRACK.
A sickening sound echoed across the courtyard. The iron hinges of the main gate groaned, metal shearing under immense pressure.
"Range units, stay high!" the Chief roared. "Melee, to the gate! With me!"
No one hesitated. The men and women dropped from the ramparts, forming a ragged shield wall behind the groaning timber. Sweat stung their eyes. Knuckles turned white on leather grips. Behind them, their summons growled and hissed, mirroring their summoners' terror.
BOOM.
The gates exploded inward.
Splinters the size of spears showered the defenders. The monster tide—a writhing mass of feral wolves, crazed boars, and starving badgers—surged in like a tsunami.
"Kill them all!"
The collision was brutal. Mana flared. Steel met fur; fangs met bone. A summoned bull charged the center, trampling wolves under hooves of condensed earth. A feline spirit leaped through the air, blinding a boar with their sharp claws.
Time lost its meaning. There was only the routine of the kill.
Strike. Block. Slash. Repeat.
After dozens of grueling minutes, the tide began to recede. The piles of carcasses grew high enough to block the entrance, creating a wall of dead flesh that the living monsters struggled to climb.
"They're running!" someone gasped, collapsing to their knees. "By the gods, they're retreating!"
Lungs burned. Men slumped against the stone walls, hugging their summons or vomiting from exhaustion. They had done it. They had survived the dreaded monster tide.
"Status report!" Felix wheezed, wiping gore from his eyes.
"Chief!" A scream from the lookout tower froze the blood in everyone's veins. "Movement on the tree line!"
From the forest shadow, they emerged. Not the frantic, starving scavengers from before. These were larger, heavier, and more lethal.
"A second wave…" Felix whispered.
The trees snapped like twigs. Stepping into the clearing was a nightmare made of muscle and flesh. It was a Razor Bear, standing ten feet tall on its hind legs, its hide armored in natural plates of bone.
A Peak Rank 2 beast. A powerhouse of a monster in the borderlands.
Despair crushed the defenders. They were commoners, their mana wells dry, their bodies broken. Their summons were fading, flickering out of existence from exhaustion and the searing pain on their Marks.
The chief looked at his trembling hands. He was the only Rank 2 in the village, but he too was on the brink of collapse.
"Fall back," he said, his voice hollow but firm. "Retreat to the chapel. Barricade the doors."
"Chief?"
"Go!" he roared. "I'll draw it away!"
He charged, leaving the villagers behind. His Storm Eagle dove, raking the Bear's eyes with wind talons. The monster bellowed, swatting the air, and charged the annoyance.
Felix sprinted, leading the beast away from his retreating people, parrying swipes that would have decapitated a horse. He fought with the desperation of a man buying seconds with his life.
But he was too slow.
The bear ignored the eagle and slammed a massive paw into the ground. The shockwave launched Felix off his feet. Before he could recover, a backhand swipe sent him flying through the air.
He crashed through the chapel doors, skidding down the center aisle, coming to a halt at the foot of the pews.
"Chief!"
The villagers screamed, huddled in the corners. The retreating men scrambled inside, slamming the broken doors shut, piling benches and lockers against them in a futile effort to delay the inevitable.
Outside, the heavy thud of footsteps grew louder.
Thump.
Thump.
ROAR.
The makeshift barricade exploded. The Razor Bear barged through the archway, snorting steam, its red eyes scanning the dark room filled with weeping women and children.
Felix tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't obey. He coughed, blood spattering the stone floor.
"I—I can't... believe it ends like this."
The monster raised a claw, ready to paint the walls with their blood.
CRASH.
The stone wall to the left of the entrance disintegrated.
Dust billowed, choking the air, followed immediately by the shrieking grind of stone against metal. A warhammer the size of an anvil smashed into the bear's flank like a battering ram.
Through the dust, a massive, armored boar thundered into the room. Riding atop it was a woman who looked like she could wrestle a mountain.
Vera swung her hammer again. The impact sounded like a thunderclap against the bear's ribs. The ten-foot monster was knocked sideways, crashing into the choir stands.
"Bastion! Seal it!" a roaring voice commanded.
Blue light flooded the room. From the stone floor, thick geometric slabs of blue energy erupted, filling the hole Vera made and covering the shattered main doors. A hulking stone construct, Bastion, locked its shield arms together, becoming a living wall.
Kael slid into position behind it, his face a mask of focus.
"Olin, suppression! Milo, save the Chief!"
Clusters of compressed wind rained down on the droves of monsters trying to enter through the broken chapel doors. A blur of shadow weaved and appeared through the pews, Milo and his Shadow Lynx, dragging the broken Chief to safety.
The villagers stared, hope filling their hearts. Help. Reinforcements had arrived.
The Alpha Bear shook off the dizziness. It roared, enraged, and turned its burning eyes toward Vera. It swiped its claws, tearing deep grooves into the Boar's armor, forcing Vera back.
Then, the air shifted.
A pair of heavy, thudding boots landed between the monster bear and the woman.
A hooded young man stood on top of the rubble. He wore a simple dark traveler's cloak and tunic with black gloves. He stood with his back to the villagers, acting as a wall between the monster and the survivors.
The Alpha Bear lunged, jaws snapping shut where the young man's head had been a second before.
Regius moved beforehand. He stepped to the side, a movement filled with fluidity that slipped him inside the monster's guard.
In the same breath, his right hand drew a steel sword.
SHING.
The blade hummed in a harmonical tune, and mana coated its sharp edges. The blade blurred, faster than the bear's eye could follow.
Then, Regius appeared behind the bear.
Fountains of blood splattered across the chapel floors, walls, and ceiling.
Five clean slashes severed the monster's limbs. The massive head slid from its neck, hitting the ground with a wet thud. The body collapsed a second later, shaking the floorboards.
Silence.
Despite the ongoing battle outside, the air inside the chapel stilled. The men, the villagers, and the chief held their breath, staring at the young man standing over the corpse.
Regius looked over his shoulder at the stunned and bloodied chief. His eyes were dark violet, void of fear, commanding a presence far beyond his years.
"You're safe now," Regius said, his voice carrying the weight of authority.