Ben's mind raced. If the Ravagers breached the inner walls, everything would spiral into chaos. He still had another layer of defenses, but relying on them ant giving up ground—and he wasn't about to let that happen. His fingers clenched against the railing. "Switch to close range!" His voice spread through the hive mind. "Scouts, aim for the Brutes' legs! Slow them down! Squad, move forward!"
The Krell responded instantly. Arrows shifted downward. Explosive bolts struck at joints, ankles, knees—
BOOM! BOOM!
The leading Brutes faltered, their montum breaking as blasts ripped into their legs, forcing them to stagger. So collapsed outright, their thick armor no longer enough to carry their own weight. But Ben wasn't done. "DROP IT!"
A heavy THUNK echoed through the stronghold as one of the wall-mounted traps activated. A huge mushroom tree—cut, reinforced, and waiting—was released from its bindings. Gravity took over. The massive log crashed downward, rolling straight into the Ravager horde.
CRACK!
The first unlucky Spine Ravagers barely had ti to react before they were flattened, their carapaces shattering under the sheer force. The Brutes dug their claws into the dirt, trying to halt its advance, but it was too late—montum had already carried it through their ranks, sending bodies flying.
The battlefield was in chaos. And that was the mont Ben struck. "OPEN THE GATE!" The reinforced entrance groaned as it swung outward. And the Krell charged. Ten Krell against nearly eighty Ravagers. Outnumbered nearly eight to one. But not a single Krell hesitated.
Two Krell Tanks led the charge, their armored bodies absorbing the first wave of blows. Soldiers followed imdiately behind, spears lunging forward, impaling Ravagers before they could recover from the rolling tree's devastation. The Scouts positioned themselves just behind the main force, firing rapid volleys at any Ravager trying to flank.
And then Ben moved. He leaped from the wall, his body a blur. Mid-air, his Adaptive Muscles flexed, and his legs morphed, shifting into their beetle form for maximum acceleration. He hit the ground like a thunderbolt, pickaxe already swinging.
SHUNK!
A Spine Ravager screeched as the pickaxe drove straight into its skull. Ben wrenched it free just as another lunged at him. He pivoted, slamming his forearm into its face—his chitinous armor holding firm against its claws—before grabbing its throat and twisting.
CRACK!
The body crumpled, but Ben was already moving to the next. Ben weaved through the battlefield, carving his way toward the Venom Ravager. But the closer he got, the heavier the resistance.
A Brute slamd down in front of him, blocking his path. BAM! The sheer impact sent cracks through the ground. Its thick, armored hide glistened with a fresh coat of blood—not its own. A Spine Ravager flanked him from the side, sending A volley of hardened quills toward him.
Ben ducked, rolling under the barrage as the projectiles shattered against the stone behind him. He ca up swinging— CRACK! His pickaxe drove into the Spine Ravager's side, twisting, tearing through its ribs.
But the Brute didn't wait. It jumped, crashing down—BOOM! Ben barely twisted out of the way, the impact sending a shockwave through the battlefield. The Krell were locked in their own struggle. The Soldiers fought in pairs, one blocking, the other striking—parrying Ravager claws and driving their spears into exposed joints. The Scouts fired from higher ground, arrows raining down, targeting eyes, legs—any weak point they could exploit.
But it wasn't enough. A Brute grabbed a Krell Tank by the arm, ripping it clean off before driving its jaws into the Krell's neck. The creature barely had ti to screech before it was torn apart. Another Krell Soldier was impaled mid-charge, a Spine Ravager driving its jagged claws through its chest.
Ben gritted his teeth, focusing back on his fight. He was winning—slowly carving through the horde. His pickaxe blurred, shattering another Spine Ravager's skull. His Adaptive Muscles pulsed, shifting him just out of reach of a Brute's crushing blow. He was nearly there. He could see Venom now—watching, waiting.
Then he felt it. A creeping sensation in the back of his mind. 'Sothing was missing.' His gaze flickered around the battlefield. The Brutes, the Spines, the regular Ravagers—they were all here, engaged in battle. But… Where was the Phantom Ravager? 'Shit.' He spun around—just in ti to see smoke rising from the walls.
The ballista tower was under attack. Krell Scouts were falling—so slashed down mid-fire, others plumting from above as the supports crumbled. Ben's expression darkened. They were targeting the ballista. Cutting off his ranged advantage.
He took a slow breath, rolling his shoulders, muscles shifting, realigning. His Adaptive Muscle pulsed, strength surging through his limbs. His gaze snapped back to the battlefield, locking onto the Venom Ravager. "I see what you're doing," he muttered, voice low. "You think taking them will allow you to win?" His grip on the pickaxe tightened, cracking the stone beneath him. "Cute. But you forgot sothing..." He moved. A blur—faster than before.
A Spine Ravager lunged to intercept—too slow. Ben's pickaxe whipped around, carving through its leg mid-sprint. The creature shrieked, collapsing as its own montum sent it skidding across the ground. A Brute ca next, swinging a massive claw—Ben ducked, jumping off its arm like a springboard, flipping over its head. Mid-air, he reached into his inventory, materializing three Grimslate blocks and dropped them.
BOOM!
The stone slabs crashed onto the Brute's skull, driving it face-first into the dirt. Ben landed smoothly, barely breaking his stride. Ahead, the Venom Ravager watched him, unflinching, unmoving.
Ben smirked. He cracked his neck, stepping forward. The Venom Ravager let out a low, guttural growl, mandibles twitching. Around it, the remaining Brutes and Spines started shifting their formation—closing in, forcing him into a kill zone. Ben exhaled. "Oh? You think boxing in will work?" He grinned, sharp and wild. "You don't get it, do you?"
The air humd as he flexed his fingers, muscles tensing, shifting. "I'm not trapped in here with you." His grin widened.
Crack.
His skin bulged. Adaptive Muscles twitched, thickening, optimizing. His arms stretched slightly—unnatural, predatory. His stance shifted, lowering. A Ravager stepped forward— BAM! Ben vanished. Reappearing right in front of the Venom Ravager. "You're trapped in here with ." The pickaxe swung
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