Zynthor glided through the air above the black artery the parasites had constructed toward their city as he surveyed the terrain below.
The artificial pathway stretched out like a dark scar across the once monster-infested landscape, its engineering precision a mockery of the natural world around it.
The path lay deserted now, clear evidence that the humans had made considerable progress in their escape.
The main body of fleeing warriors had clearly moved on.
'Zantem must have pressed far ahead from the start,' he mused, maintaining his steady flight while scanning for any signs of combat. 'Likely trying to block the escape route of the first fugitives.'
The strategy made perfect sense.
His companion would surely be accumulating the necessary kills to earn the right to cross the barrier afterward.
It was the perfect plan to get the pass to go and wake their Queen up and keep the core as far from human hands as possible.
When he finally reached the zone of destruction, Zynthor halted mid-air, his wings spreading wide to maintain position.
The devastation below exceeded any tactical necessity. An entire section of the tunnel had been pulverized, its remains scattered across the landscape like black confetti.
'Why such excessive destruction?' He wondered, his multifaceted eyes studying the devastation's pattern with growing concern. 'Breaking a single section would have sufficed to halt their advance. Has Zantem beco foolish enough to waste mana needlessly?'
The damage stretched for nearly half the tunnel's length, far beyond any reasonable military necessity.
Such wasteful destruction wasn't like Zantem at all.
Sothing about this situation felt wrong, though Zynthor couldn't quite place what.
A flash of movent caught his attention, interrupting his critical analysis. A figure was moving at high speed toward the deposit site, their trajectory precise and purposeful.
'How curious,' he thought, adjusting his position for a better view, his wings catching the air currents perfectly. 'A parasite returning toward the deposit? Or perhaps...'
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A predatory smile ford on his chitinous maw as he considered the possibilities.
Most likely, this human was fleeing from the massacre Zantem must be orchestrating closer to the city, where the weak fighters would have congregated. The poor creature was probably seeking refuge with whatever forces from the strongest remained at the deposit.
'How fortunate,' he reflected, beginning his descent. 'A perfect opportunity to start my own count.'
The pathetic parasite hadn't even noticed him yet, completely focused on their desperate race forward.
Zynthor adjusted his trajectory, calculating the perfect angle for interception. His divine armor glead dully in the light as he positioned himself, ready to strike.
The irony wasn't lost on him, this human fled from one predator only to run straight into another's jaws.
Truly, these parasites had the worst luck.
But then again, what else could one expect from such inferior beings?
♢♢♢♢
The deposit chamber had transford into a chaotic battleground, its once pristine walls now scarred by the desperate struggle for survival. The air filled with spent magical energy and the tallic tang of blood.
Eight artromus moved like lethal predators through the space, their fifty points of speed turning them into deadly blurs that only the most skilled warriors could track.
Elio maintained his position at the heart of the defense, his four-elental sword finding targets with an efficiency that wasted no energy. Each strike was calculated, precise, making the most of every opportunity.
Supporting him, Lila directed her transford summon, its massive bulk helping to control the enemies' movent zones and providing crucial defensive coverage.
For the remaining survivors, the battle had descended into a nightmare of desperate survival.
From the initial force of over 50, only 39 still stood.
The fallen warriors' cores had been absorbed by so survivors, marginally increasing their power, from 100 to 110 damage, or 110 to 120 in so cases.
But against beings of such overwhelming might, these small improvents felt almost aningless.
The emblems made a crucial difference for those who wielded them. Each of Elio and Lila's strikes inflicted 140 points of damage over the artromus's defense, enough to force them back and maintain so semblance of control over the battle space.
But the others...
"Watch out!" i's warning cry ca as another soldier fell, their body crumpling under an artromus's devastating counter-strike.
The 20 damage points that most warriors could inflict were almost insignificant against these monstrous opponents.
The creatures had adopted a brutal but effective strategy: they would tank hits directly, using each opening to launch devastating counterattacks that dealt nearly 200 points of damage after accounting for the humans' ager defenses.
Elio spotted an opening through the chaos.
Despite everything, he wasn't ready to surrender. He regenerated his sword's steel coating and launched forward, finding the perfect spot where one artromus's wing joined its body.
"Lila!" His shout was unnecessary, she was already moving, reading his intent perfectly.
Her summon blocked the artromus's ascending escape route, landing another powerful blow while Elio connected a second strike to the sa point.
The wing was left nearly useless, hanging at an awkward angle.
'At least this one won't be flying for a few minutes,' Elio thought, allowing himself a mont of satisfaction.
That mont proved fleeting.
The artromus's divine armor began to pulse with a familiar glow. Like the system armor but far more potent, the divine equipnt started regenerating the damage at an alarming rate.
Elio watched in growing horror as the wing began straightening, its damaged tissues knitting back together before his eyes.
"The armor!" i shouted what everyone was thinking, her voice tight with desperation. "It's healing the damage better than ours!"
Elio clenched his teeth as he processed this new information. For any strategy targeting weak points to work, they would first need to overco the divine armor's 10,000 resistance points.
Only then could they hope to inflict lasting damage.
The realization settled like ice in his stomach: they were nowhere near capable of eliminating 8 of these creatures.
♢♢♢♢
The shift to close-quarters combat had dramatically altered the battle's dynamics.
Zentros could feel the human attacks landing more frequently now, an acceptable cost for the results they were achieving. Three more had fallen since they abandoned their elevated position to engage directly.
'A refreshing change,' he reflected while evading another combined attack, his movents fluid and precise. 'After so long failing to penetrate their defenses when they entrenched themselves in the crater.'
Close combat had neutralized the defensive advantage provided by the summons and that irritating four-elental sword's magic-cutting properties. Here in the chamber's confined space, it was impossible to block or counter every strike. The humans were finally taking more damage than they could inflict.
Though they held the nurical advantage, their attacks were pathetically weak. Only two posed any real threat: the leader with his annoying sword and the blonde girl with her massive summon.
But even they were beginning to show fatigue. Their movents, while still precise, were becoming slower, more predictable with each passing mont.
'They can't maintain this pace,' Zentros calculated, his multifaceted eyes tracking every movent in the chamber. 'Not against 8 of us.'
A series of magical attacks from Milo's group impacted his divine armor, more insignificant annoyances, but they helped identify his next target.
His gaze fixed on Nessa. The warrior maintained a solid defensive position, but Zentros could see small openings in her guard. Fatigue was beginning to take its toll, making her movents just a fraction slower than they needed to be.
'Ti to eliminate another nuisance.'
He launched forward, claws extended. The humans might have numbers, but against the true power of the artromus, that only ant more bodies to count when it was over.
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