Corrupted humanoids sward from every direction, their bodies twisted and unnatural. They lunged at anything that moved, soldiers, civilians, even each other. The air stank of blood and smoke.
General Corpuz stood firm in the chaos, arms steady as he fired arrow after arrow. Fresh arrows hung at his side, looted from a storage crate.
His muscles burned, but sothing new surged through him.
Beside him, General Broner slashed through a charging humanoid, kicking the corpse aside.
For a brief second, they locked eyes. Still breathing. Still fighting.
The Swarm Heal Isaac left behind wasn’t just healing. It was buffing them, faster, sharper, stronger.
They weren’t just surviving. They were pushing back.
"Hold the line! Protect the civilians!" Broner shouted, slicing through another twisted form.
The soldiers around them responded, rallying behind the generals. Blades clashed. Arrows flew. The line held.
Near a huge cart, Aiah stood shoulder to shoulder with Ben Nai and Putol. Flas still flickered on her fingertips, but her breathing was heavy, sweat pouring down her face.
She grit her teeth and reached down, grabbed a fallen soldier’s short spear. It wasn’t her style, but it would do. Fire took too much from her. She had to last.
Behind them, civilians cowered under makeshift shelters, under carts, stalls, or broken wagons. Mothers held children close. Wounded groaned.
—-----
Harper charged forward, shockingly fast for his size. His four lupine legs tore into the ground, propelling him like a battering ram.
Isaac ducked, but pain shot through his cracked rib, slowing him down just enough.
The huge fist grazed him. Even that slight hit sent him stumbling sideways.
He barely managed to steady himself, swinging his sickle upward toward Harper’s exposed ribs.
CLANG!
The blade bounced off. Harper’s skin was as tough as steel.
Isaac’s arm shook from the impact. His grip faltered.
’His defense is insane.’
Harper didn’t stop. He charged again, head down like a bull.
Isaac twisted away, but the movent pulled at his rib. Pain flared through his side. He gasped quietly.
The ground split open where Harper’s blow missed.
’I can’t beat him with strength. I have to drain him.’
Isaac’s cooldown tirs ticked away like bombs in his mind. No new skills yet.
He exhaled and tightened his grip on the Twin Reaper Sickles. His fingers were already numb.
His muscles scread in protest, but he stayed loose. His face remained calm.
Harper snarled and stomped down hard. His body blurred as he swung again.
Isaac tried to duck under the attack, but he was slower now. The edge of Harper’s claw scraped his shoulder.
Blood spurted out. Isaac staggered.
’Focus. Breathe. Stay small.’
He swung upward blindly. This ti, the sickle sank into Harper’s shoulder joint.
Dark, steaming blood sprayed out.
Harper roared and slamd his horns down.
Isaac twisted away, but not fast enough.
The horns clipped his side. Sothing cracked.
Pain exploded through him. His legs buckled for a mont.
He barely rolled away before Harper’s next stomp smashed the ground where he’d been.
’I’m faster... but I’m breaking down.’
Isaac circled, his breath rasping, staying just out of reach. Blood dripped from his sickles, Harper’s and his own.
Harper slamd his fists together, sending out a shockwave.
Dust burst into the air.
Isaac shielded his eyes, and Harper burst through the dust cloud like a train.
BAAAM!
Harper’s shoulder slamd into Isaac’s chest. He felt his ribs snap.
Air rushed out of his lungs as he flew backward into the do wall.
He crumpled to the ground, choking, his vision blurry.
"Impressive... but let’s see how long you can last," Geoffrey said from outside the do.
Isaac heard him faintly, like he was underwater.
Every instinct told him to stay down.
He forced himself up, first to one knee, then to his feet. His body shook.
The pain was overwhelming.
He shifted his weight lower, keeping a crouched stance. Standing tall would only make him an easier target.
Harper roared and charged again.
Isaac ducked low, slower this ti.
The massive fist missed by inches, smashing the do wall.
Harper’s attacks were slowing, his rage was making him sloppy.
Isaac narrowed his eyes.
’He’s getting frustrated...’
Harper stomped forward, kicking up dust and stone.
Isaac dodged through the gaps, but each move cost him. His ribs scread in pain. His shoulder bled freely.
He slashed at Harper’s back knee, a quick, desperate strike.
SLASH!
Harper stumbled, not badly, but enough to lose his footing.
Isaac stepped back, wincing with every move.
’Small cuts. Death by a thousand wounds.’
Harper roared and charged forward.
Isaac twisted to dodge, but pain shot through his side. His block ca too late.
Harper’s claws scraped Isaac’s thigh, leaving shallow but bloody marks.
Isaac bit back a scream, shifted his weight to his good leg, and struck back, his blade slicing Harper’s inner thigh.
Harper grunted, his back legs shaking.
Isaac staggered backward, breathing hard.
Another cracked rib, maybe two. Torn thigh. A wrecked shoulder.
Harper swung both fists down like a hamr. Isaac barely raised his blades in ti.
The blow sent him crashing to the ground.
He rolled away, coughing blood, desperate to stay alive.
"You’re slowing down," Isaac rasped, his voice sharp and strained.
Harper stomped the ground in frustration.
Isaac was already moving, low, crooked, dragging his injured leg.
He slashed Harper’s thigh again, deeper this ti.
Harper howled in pain, stumbling.
Isaac didn’t wait. He used Harper’s stagger to leap forward, his injured leg almost giving out, and spun in mid-air, slicing Harper’s shoulder horn.
Crack!
The horn split slightly, and blood sprayed.
Isaac hit the ground hard, nearly collapsing. But he stayed on his feet, sohow.
Harper was slowing down, his movents clumsy and weak.
Isaac crouched lower, steadying himself.
Harper charged again, off-balance.
Isaac dodged with a shaky sidestep and slashed Harper’s upper ribs.
Another cut.
’One more. Just one more...’
Then, instinct kicked in.
Isaac dove backward, driven by pure survival.
Above them, King Geoffrey raised his hand from the balcony.
Harper froze and bowed slightly.
The battlefield went silent.
Geoffrey’s voice echoed through the do.
"Brace yourself, Harper."
Harper lifted his head, his golden fur standing on end. His yellow eyes burned brighter.
"I am ready," Harper growled.
Isaac tightened his grip on his blades. His hands trembled, slick with blood.
Geoffrey raised his hand higher.
The clouds above the do swirled unnaturally.
Isaac felt it, a heavy, suffocating pressure.
Everyone felt it. Soldiers. Civilians. Even Aiah’s group.
Then...
CRACK!
A blinding bolt of lightning struck Harper.
The ground exploded.
The do’s shield flickered and groaned.
Isaac shielded his face, gritting his teeth.
When the dust settled...
Harper stood in the crater.
Changed.
The pressure around him was crushing, almost unbearable.
Isaac’s stomach churned.
’Is that a buff?’
Harper took a step, slow and heavy. The ground shook beneath his weight.
Isaac forced himself to breathe steadily.
He raised his sickles, trembling.
Then Harper moved, a golden blur, faster than Isaac could react.
Isaac didn’t think.
’Die on my feet. Or not at all.’
He threw himself forward, sickles flashing, one final, broken charge against the impossible.
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