The dust had barely settled when the air grew heavy again. Maingan felt it first—a presence beyond the Nephilim, beyond anything they had faced. The battlefield trembled anew, not from the aftershocks, but from something stepping forward.
The figure emerged from the storm of falling debris, a true giant—not like the Nephilim, but something far worse.
It was one of the First Children of the Fallen Guardians.
Towering above the ruins of the palace, the being's six muscular arms flexed, each hand as large as a warhorse. Three glowing eyes stared down, their gaze filled with ancient malice. Its skin, dark like charred stone, pulsed with strange energy. This was no mere brute—it was something beyond physical strength.
It exhaled, and the air itself vibrated with power.
The soldiers, still reeling from the earthquake, turned to face the new horror. But the moment they locked eyes with it, fear overtook them.
"This… this isn't something we can fight," one soldier whispered, stumbling back.
Another dropped his weapon. "We'll die here…"
Then, panic set in. One by one, they ran. Even those who had stood their ground against the Nephilim fled into the shattered remains of the palace, seeking shelter.
All except Maingan.
A Command to Flee
Jason and Jeruca stood beside him, blades drawn, but their expressions were grim. Jason swallowed hard. "Maingan, this is different."
Maingan's glowing eyes never left the creature. "I know."
Jeruca gritted his teeth. "Then what the hell do we do?"
Maingan exhaled slowly. He was still recovering from the Nephilim battle, his power drained. If he fought recklessly now, he would lose.
"Run," Maingan said.
Jeruca turned to him, shocked. "What?"
"Run. Take the others and get inside. I'll hold it here."
Jason shook his head. "Like hell we will!"
"You can't fight this thing," Maingan snapped. "Not without powers. You'll just die."
Jeruca clenched his fists, but he knew Maingan was right. Their presence would only slow him down.
The giant took a step forward. The earth cracked beneath its weight. It raised one of its six arms, clenching a fist the size of a boulder.
"Go," Maingan ordered.
Jeruca cursed but grabbed Jason, forcing him to move. They ran into the ruined palace, disappearing with the others.
Now, Maingan stood alone.
The Battle Begins
The giant struck.
The force of the blow shattered the earth where Maingan had been standing—but he was already gone.
A blur. That's all the giant saw before Maingan reappeared behind it.
The creature snarled, its three eyes shifting in different directions, tracking him. It swung again.
Maingan vanished.
Reappeared at the giant's side. Then behind it again.
Each time, he dodged with ease, reading its movements, feeling the way energy pulsed through its body.
It wasn't just strength—the creature had some deeper power.
Maingan's eyes flickered, glowing brighter. He moved with inhuman precision, seeing each attack before it came. It was as if time itself slowed for him.
But he wasn't attacking.
He was stalling.
Every movement, every dodge—it wasn't just to avoid getting hit. He was recovering energy, letting his body regain strength after the Nephilim battle.
The giant roared in frustration. Its arms blurred—six fists attacking at once.
Maingan's form shimmered. He dodged one. Another. He twisted midair, the shockwaves of missed punches shaking the air. His speed increased with every second.
Then, something unexpected happened.
The giant stopped attacking.
It smirked. "You think I don't see what you're doing?"
Maingan's heart pounded. It was learning.
The real fight was just beginning.
—