Far to the north of PETERUMMAN, thick snow blanketed an abandoned bunker, restricting visibility to mere meters amidst a raging blizzard. Across the expanse of permanently frozen snow, a long trail stretched out—a filthy, bloody gash of fresh gore defiling the pristine white purity, creeping along the border gate's path.
Kaelen walked sluggishly, his breath puffing out hot vapor that instantly vanished in the freezing air. "How much farther do I have to walk?"
His tactically gloved hand tightly gripped the ankle of a fallen border guard. The corpse dragged effortlessly behind him, leaving a dark red trail that slowly became buried under powdery ice. "You are truly troublesome, even in death."
He came to a halt in the middle of an open plateau surrounded by the skeletal frames of dead pine trees. The fishy stench of blood suddenly evaporated, cutting through the piercing aroma of ozone and biting cold. "How could this device summon a monster? If it did, could it be a rare artifact?" Kaelen, looking entirely ordinary, burst into loud laughter. "You are truly foolish, Lord Elos."
"It seems far enough now." Without hesitation, Kaelen tossed the corpse onto a snowdrift.
This was not merely a murder. It was the instrument of an ancient pact.
With practiced movements, he knelt beside the corpse, chanting the forbidden summoning verses long buried within the organization's dark archives. His voice was drowned out by the roar of the northern wind, yet its resonance summoned something sentient from beyond the void of dimensions.
The temperature plummeted drastically. The snow around them stopped falling, freezing mid-air.
From within the swirling, dense fog before him, darkness began to congeal. The stiff, lifeless corpse slowly morphed into a giant, hunchbacked humanoid entity covered in dark green scales. Its head was adorned with a pair of sharply curved, faceless horns, while its shoulders were draped with bone ornaments and ancient attributes.
That primordial entity was Vulgor, the Lord of the Death Fog. The faceless figure stared straight at Kaelen with a hollow grin that mirrored pure terror.
"Yeril... It has been so long," the silhouette uttered while stretching its entire body. "For the past thousand years. You woke me up? Does our master desire destruction?" Vulgor asked, his voice sounding like the harsh scraping of coarse sandpaper.
"Vulgor... Our master was injured by the actions of humans."
"What?" His clawed hand produced a supporting staff adorned with a skull and a glowing purple magical crystal. "Yeril... Your form is repulsive. How dare humans insult us?"
"Call upon all the monsters to unite. It is time for us to exterminate humanity and avenge our master," Kaelen told the silhouette.
Vulgor, the scaled monster, stepped forward and gazed up at the sky. "Tonight's moon looks beautiful, as if there is going to be a blood feast." He stood, plunging his staff deep into the snowy ground.
He mama putrakāḥ... Mama āhvānaṃ śṛṇuta... Mama samīpe saṃsarata... Bhavatāṃ svāminaḥ vairameva yuṣmākaṃ vairam... Tasmād āgacchata... Āgacchata...
In an instant, a magic circle materialized. The cold air vibrated violently, turning into scorching steam. The earth around them shook.
"The ritual is complete. The gates of hell are officially open, Lord Elos. If you think I am your pawn, then you are truly the most foolish person of all," Yeril, the silhouette disguised as a human, smirked.
Suddenly, an invisible shockwave exploded from the center of the magic circle, blasting away the surrounding cold air. That beam of primordial energy surged wildly, racing far through the blizzard until it vibrated within the ancient ruins where The Whispering Ruins forces stood ready.
In the southwest of PETERUMMAN, the line of mages under Master Vane's command abruptly halted their march among the ruins. A sharp change in the direction and density of the wind blowing from the north triggered their alertness.
An unnatural wave of magical energy had just crept past the territorial boundary.
"Report, Master Vane," a choked voice from a scout flashed through the telepathic link. "Something is wrong here!"
"What is it?" Vane replied coldly, his gaze piercing sharply toward the northern horizon blanketed by the blizzard.
"Thousands of monsters... They are moving massively northward. An absurd scale of mass migration," the scout reported with ragged breath.
Vane's forehead furrowed deeply. His pupils narrowed, connecting this anomaly with the magical distortion he had just felt from the north. "Is this related to the mana anomaly just released from the north?"
"We cannot confirm that yet, Master."
"If so, do not just stand there! Try to trace it, expand your search range," Vane ordered emphatically, his tone hinting at dangerous urgency. "If PETERUMMAN manages to control the technology or power capable of enslaving and commanding those monsters... we will all perish before the war even begins."
"Understood, Master Vane!" The telepathic link severed instantly, leaving tense silence amidst the southwestern mage battalion.
Vane lowered his hand from his temple, staring intensely at the northern horizon now glowing reddish behind the snowstorm. The real storm has only just begun, he thought bitterly.
Meanwhile, behind the freezing wall of the storm, the world braced to face a tempest far deadlier than mere ice—the storm of war. In the central command room, Commander Pantas stood frozen, his fingers trembling violently as he gripped the tablet displaying an emergency tactical map.
"Commander Pantas, this data is way beyond normal limits," General Ricky, leader of Sector 05, rattled through the encrypted link with breath stung by panic. "Monsters never move simultaneously. Our radar has detected anomalous mass movements with an impossible pattern in the north... this is a stampede."
Commander Pantas's forehead furrowed sharply, his eyes fixing on the red dots swarming the screen. "Ricky, review the data. A massive-scale stampede has never happened in the recorded history of PETERUMMAN." His tone carried deep doubt, racing against his pounding heartbeat. "What is the estimated number of those creatures?"
"Incalculable. The scale is massive... thousands, or even more," Ricky replied without hesitation.
Instantly, Commander Pantas's blood boiled hot. He rose from his chair with a rough movement, making the wooden chair screech loudly. "Send out a reconnaissance aircraft right now! Find out what is actually happening there. And listen..." His tone turned cold, brimming with absolute authority, "Prepare ten squadrons of fighter jets. Raise the alert status to Alert 3! I am heading there immediately!"
The connection severed. The supreme commander of all PETERUMMAN soldiers stood frozen in the silence of the command room, staring at his own reflection on the tablet screen now flashing a bright, menacing red.
If those thousands of monsters managed to pierce the border... then tonight would no longer be about an energy crisis, but the night of human extinction.