The mont the frontlines t, the ground cracked beneath the weight of the brutes’ charge. Flesh like stone slamd into the imperial guard’s formation, sending tremors rippling through the field. The air slled of mana discharge and burnt tal as the guards struggled to hold their lines.
"Push them back behind the barrier!" shouted the mage captain, his voice slicing through the chaos. "Don’t waste your strength trying to kill them—just push them back so the barrier can be resealed!"
He was an Imperial Guard, a mage captain with rank 5 prowess, his authority absolute amid the madness. Everyone knew his words weren’t born of cowardice but experience. The creatures they faced were abominations, born of corruption, twisted echoes of once-living things. You couldn’t kill what was already rotting from the inside out.
They weren’t many, only thirty-one in number, but each one fought like a nightmare made flesh.
One of the guards, a broad man whose aura pulsed like molten iron, slamd shoulder-first into a brute. The creature’s gray flesh rippled on impact as the guard’s boots gouged deep tracks across the ground. He roared, shoving harder, aura flaring bright enough to scorch the dirt beneath him but then, another brute ca crashing in from the side. The second collision sent him sprawling, armor denting as he hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud.
Before the two brutes could descend upon him, the air shimred crimson. A glowing magic circle ford beneath their feet, then another, then another, until half a dozen abominations were caught within the pattern.
The captain’s voice rose above the roar of battle, deep and sharp. "Scarlet Art, Form Two—Scarlet Chains!"
From the glowing sigil burst thick red chains of burning mana. They lashed out, wrapping around the struggling brutes, searing their corrupted flesh as they strained against their binds. The creatures howled, but the chains held fast.
"Now!" the captain barked. "Push them back!"
The fallen guard rolled to his knees, wiping blood from his mouth. He and the others surged forward, rallying around the restrained monsters
Then it ca.
A sound that cut through the battlefield like a knife—
Wheeeeee—
A sharp, descending whistle.
The captain’s head snapped upward, eyes widening. "Take cover!"
A heartbeat later, sothing slamd into the ground with an ear-splitting BOOM! The shockwave ripped through the dirt, scattering dust and bodies alike.
From the crater that followed, sothing moved.
Heavy steps echoed as a towering brute erged, smoke curling from its form. Unlike the others, its skin was pitch black, its fra massive and unnervingly symtrical, arms and legs balanced, body built like a perfect instrunt of destruction.
Then it roared.
ROOOOOAR!!!
The sound tore through the air, a quake of raw fury that sent even the mana around them trembling. The captain felt the weight of its presence, mana pressure suffocating and sharp like a blade pressing to his throat.
His pupils narrowed. "...It possesses rank six strength."
The words carried a weight that silenced even the wind. The battle had just beco sothing far worse than a skirmish. It was a fight for survival.
****
The captain stood frozen, heart hamring against his ribs. His mind raced, but every possible outco ended in death. The appearance of a Rank 6 abomination was already beyond what their squad could handle, now it towered before them like a god of ruin, its black form gleaming under the fractured moonlight.
He clenched his jaw. ’No choice.’
"Retreat!" the captain roared, voice cracking through the field like a whip.
The spell was broken. The guards who had been paralyzed by fear moved instantly, instincts taking over. Their formation shattered as they began to fall back, armor clanking, boots pounding against the earth. The battlefield beca chaos, shouts overlapped, orders blurred, and only one word echoed again and again—
"Retreat! Fall back!"
The captain’s mind worked fast, already forming a plan. They could regroup behind the secondary barrier, report to the capital, maybe even request reinforcent from a lieutenant to properly seal this cursed zone. Survival ca first, honor later.
The brutes lunged after them, snarling as the guards fought to hold them off. Steel clashed against corrupted flesh; sparks flew. But the real threat, the black abomination hadn’t moved.
That silence unnerved him more than its roar.
The captain turned, sweat dripping down his temple. "Why isn’t it moving?" he muttered under his breath.
Then, he saw it.
The creature’s mouth curved. Not in hunger. Not in rage. But in sothing that looked horrifyingly human.
A mocking grin.
The captain’s eyes widened. "It’s a—"
Before the warning left his lips, a massive hand burst from the ground beneath him. It clamped over his face, cold and rough, and lifted him like a ragdoll into the air. The captain’s muffled scream was drowned by the crunch of bone.
The ground erupted again.
Two more black abominations clawed their way out of the earth, rising like shadows from the underworld. Now four of them stood, each identical in form, their presence suffocating, their auras heavy enough to crush stone.
They had been surrounded from the very beginning.
Panic broke through the ranks. The guards turned in every direction, but all they saw were walls of black muscle and teeth.
The large-frad guard who had fought earlier looked up just in ti to see his captain’s body trembling in the abomination’s grip. His heart sank, then burned. "Captain!!" he shouted, voice raw with fury.
There was no escaping this. They all knew it. So if they were going to die, it would be standing.
The guard charged first, aura igniting around him like a wildfire. The others followed, screaming their defiance as they rushed the towering monsters.
The black abominations didn’t even flinch.
The one holding the captain’s face tightened its grip, preparing to crush his skull like fruit—
Then everything stopped.
A crushing pressure fell upon the battlefield, heavier than any aura, colder than death itself. The air turned still, every sound swallowed whole. The abominations froze mid-motion, muscles twitching as unseen force held them in place. Even the guards stopped, breath hitching in their throats.
The abominations tried to move, but sothing powerfull pressed down on them.
Then a voice rolled through the darkness.
It was low, Cold and Detached. Yet, it carried weight enough to make the world itself shudder.
"FORMLESS."
The sound wasn’t shouted, it didn’t need to be. It was a whisper that sliced through the night like the edge of a blade, one that made even the black abominations tremble where they stood.
Their bodies quivered, the grin wiped clean off their faces.
Because whoever had just spoken—
was death itself, given voice.
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