Half an hour earlier.
Outside Valkeries town, in front of the Northern Gate.
[Stormrage Behemoth, Kragorn Lv. 321]
[Voidclaw Ravager, Zarok Lv. 224]
[Dark Siren Enchantress, Selira Lv. 218]
"Go back to whatever hell you crawled out of, or Valkeries shall be your grave!"
The three monstrous leaders of the wave army exchanged glances before a soft, sinister laugh escaped Selira's lips. "A warning? So noble, Sir Rollo... I've always admired that about you. It will make bending you to my will all the more delicious."
Erza shot Rollo a sharp look. "You know her?"
"No." He narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, but we know you," Selira continued, her voice lilting and teasing. "Erza, the S-Ranked Adventurer. Rollo, the Knights Commander. And Marcus, the High Priest... the three rulers of Valkeries."
Shock flickered across their faces—even the usually calm Marcus tightened his grip on his staff. They never expected a monster to know their names, and even their standings.
"Names, titles... none of it matters. Stand against us, and you'll crumble—leaving behind nothing but the echo of your defiance."
Kragorn's thunderous voice interrupted the eerie silence that followed.
Rollo sneered, turning to his knights. "You heard him. What do you think?"
Suddenly a deep, rhythmic pounding began.
BAM—BAM—BAM—BAM—
The knights knocked their weapons against their shields in unison, the sound swelling into a primal rhythm that filled the night air.
<THINKING THAT WOULD SCARE US, IS YOUR GREATEST SIN>
<THE WALLS DO NOT PROTECT US, WE ARE THE BEASTS WITHIN!>
<WE ARE THE BEASTS WITHIN!>
<WE ARE THE BEASTS WITHIN!>
...
Rollo smirked as the knights kept pounding their shields, repeating the final line again and again. It was a declaration, a battle cry. In response, Kragorn snorted firmly, signaling for the advance of his army. "Fine, let it be your final chant."
As the chant reverberated through the ranks, it shook the ground beneath their feet while they stared down the advancing monsters. With the monstrous army roaring in response, their anthem only grew louder—more defiant.
On the other side, the Abyssal Striders skittered across the field, their lanky frames moving with unnatural speed, claws scraping against the earth as they closed the distance. Their hollow, glowing eyes stayed fixed on the knights, hunger and malice gleaming in the dark.
Behind them, the Nightmare Wraiths slipped through the shadows like malevolent whispers, their forms flickering in and out of sight—glowing eyes the only constant as they waited to strike.
Lumbering in the back, the Dreadmire Brutes stomped forward—grotesque bodies of sludge and twisted roots, each step leaving a trail of corrosive muck that hissed and burned in their wake.
The air grew heavy with the sound of approaching doom.
From a distance, the enemy appeared endless, their dark forms swelling and creeping closer, casting a shadow that began to engulf the knights and dim their vision, igniting a flicker of doubt in their hearts.
But the knights’ chant surged to its peak, its echo spreading further through the earth, shaking the ground beneath the oncoming horde.
"Steady!" Rollo's voice sliced through the chaos, resonating with a commanding authority that stilled the earth for a moment. His sword sparkled in the dim light as it aimed at the oncoming wave. "Hold the line!"
Determination spread through the knights at his command. Despite the overwhelming odds, they stood resolute. Rollo's presence alone was enough to quell their fears; his name was whispered with reverence among the ranks, for his unmatched skill had led them to victory time and time again.
"Archers!" Rollo barked. "Hold!"
The archers at the rear coordinated flawlessly, nocking their arrows and preparing to unleash their deadly barrage upon the enemy's front line.
In the midst of the formation, Marcus began to chant.
[Holy Enchantment!]
[Ultra Precision!]
With their arrows now shimmering with radiant light, the archers readied their bows, eyes locked on the advancing horde.
And when the moment came, the voice they had awaited thundered:
"Loose!"
Whoosh—
A hail of arrows launched into the sky, illuminating the dim air as the archers released their onslaught. The tips sparkled like stars, painting the sky in a celestial display reminiscent of a meteor shower, and then the deadly rain descended upon the encroaching monsters.
Crack— Thump—
An arrow found its mark in the skull of an Abyssal Strider, punching through its hollow, glowing eyes. The creature froze, grotesque limbs twitching violently before it crumpled to the ground in a twisted heap, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the earth.
Another arrow struck a Nightmare Wraith, embedding itself deep in its shadowy form. It let out a guttural hiss, staggering forward as black ichor oozed from the injury. The creature lurched a few more steps before dissolving into the shadows, vanishing with a final, haunting screech.
Blood sprayed across the battlefield as monsters fell one by one, their twisted forms riddled with arrows. Some screeched in agony, thrashing as they tried to tear the shafts from their flesh, while others collapsed without a sound, their lifeless bodies joining the growing sea of corpses strewn across the gore-soaked earth.
The sickening cacophony of death rang out—flesh ripping, bones snapping, and bodies crashing into the dirt—as the archers' relentless barrage tore through their ranks.
Rollo raised his hand once more, "Hold!"
The archers swiftly readied another arrow, ready for the command.
"Loose—"
"Hold!" Rollo commanded again, his tone unyielding.
Watching the scene unfold, the knights holding the line felt a surge of confidence. "It's working!"
"At this rate, we might not even have to jump in!"
"Focus, you fools!" Rollo snapped, shooting them a sharp glare.
He knew far better than these fresh recruits—underestimating the enemy just because things seemed to be going well was the fastest way to die. Especially against monsters like these—they wouldn’t be deterred by the death of their comrades. They’d trample over the fallen and press forward without pause.
His thoughts were confirmed as he watched the dead and even the injured crushed under the feet of their own kind.
Despite the relentless barrage from the knight archers, the wave of monsters continued to advance, closing in until they were a mere fifty meters away.
Erza unsheathed her blazing sword, exchanging a determined nod with Rollo, who shouted, “Archers, keep firing at the rear!”
Forty meters.
“Knights!” Rollo bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield. The unmistakable clatter of armor locking into place answered him, signaling the knights’ readiness.
Thirty meters.
Rollo began to stride forward, Erza at his side, the knights right behind.
Twenty meters.
"CHARGE!"
With a thunderous roar, Rollo burst ahead, his sword held high.
Whoosh—
The first impact—less a clash, more an execution. His blade cleaved through the frontmost Abyssal Strider with terrifying ease.
As the creature's twisted, bloodied form crumpled to the ground, Rollo didn't pause. He pressed on, tearing through the monsters before him as if they were nothing more than pests.
Hiss!
Behind him, Erza's blazing blade tore through her first foe, hissing as it cleaved the creature into a smoldering carcass.
She moved in perfect sync with Rollo, harvesting the heads of the monsters one after another, breaking the charge of the advancing wave.
Around them, the knights drew strength from their leaders' overwhelming prowess, slashing through the ranks of beasts and preventing them from breaching the rear, where the archers continued to rain down a torrent of precise arrows.
"COME, FACE ME!" Rollo roared, his challenge cutting through the chaos as he called out to the bosses lingering in the back, but there was only silence in response.
"Very well, we'll end your minions first!" he declared with renewed determination.
For a time, the tide seemed to be in their favor. The knights, emboldened by Rollo and Erza’s ferocity, fought with renewed spirit, pushing back against the relentless onslaught as Marcus and the archers delivered support from behind.
Ohm~
The air shifted. A soft, melodic hum slithered through the battlefield, barely noticeable at first—a whisper beneath the clash of steel.
A knight staggered slightly, shaking his head to clear it. Another blinked rapidly, his grip loosening on his sword for a moment.
Then came the voice.
It drifted through the night like a lover's call, gentle, inviting, irresistible.
"Come to me, brave knights, let me free you of your burdens."
The change was instant. The knights stilled, eyes clouding over as the song wrapped around their minds like silk.
"This is..." Marcus's voice tightened as he felt the ominous shift. "Be careful! Her voice can—"
But it was too late.
[Siren's Song]
The knights began to waver. Their swords dipped, a fraction of an inch, and their movements slowed. Their eyes glazed over as if caught in a trance. One by one, they began to stumble, then turn on their allies—confusion and dread settling in as the Dark Siren’s control spread.
"No, stop!" Rollo's voice thundered, but even he couldn't halt the tide.
Slash—
"AAAHH!!!"
He watched in horror as his own knights—men he had trained and bled alongside—began to strike out at the few women in their ranks, and even him!
A knight to his left swung at him. Rollo blocked the blow with ease, but the hesitation left an opening for another to rush in, blade aimed straight at his chest.
Rollo parried once more, but it was no longer a fair fight. His allies had become enemies, and the Dark Siren’s spell tightened its grip with each passing second. He couldn’t bring himself to strike them—not while they were under her control.
Thud—
An arrow slammed into his arm. Rollo staggered, eyes wide, barely ducking another swing from one of his own. He glanced toward the rear—
The Dark Siren's wicked spell had reached the rear lines. Now, the female archers clashed with their male counterparts, encircling Marcus to shield him from the blades of the possessed men.
"DAMN YOU!" Rollo roared in frustration as he felt the weight of fighting those he had sworn to protect.
In the blink of an eye, he had lost his army. All that remained were the female knights, and Erza, who were desperately holding back the relentless horde
As if sensing the disarray, the monsters stopped targeting the men and turned their attacks solely on the women. Holding the line became even harder for the female troops, who had joined Erza to fend off the endless waves of creatures.
"ROLLO!" Erza's voice cut through his frustration, her sword carving through another wave of enemies as she fought her way toward him. "We need to take her out, now!"
Slash—
It was then that the Voidclaw Ravager, Zarok, struck at Erza with deadly precision, forcing her to duck just in time. She spun on her heel, driving her blade into the Ravager’s side—but before she could finish it off, the Stormrage Behemoth, Kragorn, lumbered toward her, its massive fists crashing into the ground with thunderous force.
They were waiting for this moment to finally move out from their position and join the battlefield. It was all part of their plan.
Erza growled under her breath, frustration gnawing at her as the two bosses stood between her and her brother. She was a skilled warrior, but she knew that handling two enemy commanders at once was pushing her limits.
"Just knock them out!" she called at Rollo, narrowly evading a flurry of slashes from Zarok. But then—
Zizizizizi—
The air crackled.
Rollo's instincts screamed at him—something was wrong.
The scent of burning ozone filled his lungs, and before he could react, the sky split open.
A blinding streak of lightning ripped downward, striking the battlefield with explosive force. The ground shattered, rock and dust erupting in all directions.
The color drained from Rollo's face—
"ERZA!!!"