The level 2 sanctuary was cloaked in a silence that weighed like a slab, broken only by the crackling of a candle burning down, a dry, fleeting sound that pulsed like a heartbeat in the stillness. Outside, the wind howled, clawing at the stone walls like starving nails, slipping through the cracks with a chill that bit into the skin.
Candles flickered on the rustic table, casting shadows that danced in the corners like restless specters, while the earthy scent of roasted goblin rabbit faded, overtaken by the damp, iron tang the night carried in. The fogged stained-glass windows rattled with each gust, the carved saints trembling as if they feared what lurked beyond.
Renn leaned against the table's edge, his blessed dagger plunged into the wood like a nail anchoring him to the world, its blade reflecting the amber light with a faint gleam that seemed to pulse. His gray eyes, sunken with exhaustion, scanned the defenses: watchtowers standing like mute sentinels, light traps glowing with a golden sheen that sliced through the gloom, and strategic positions marked by the nuns.
Three days with Lilith, two with Seraphina, and barely a few hours with Valka—a handful of time that had changed everything. Three days, he thought, drumming his fingers against the rough wood, and I'm already neck-deep in this mess. The school hadn't mentioned this—just orders, troops, and holding the sanctuary. But here I am, dried blood on my boots and three lunatics worth more than any damn lesson.
The thought hit him like an echo, and for a moment, he felt the weight of responsibility like an invisible chain—but also a spark of something alive, something keeping him upright.
He turned to Lilith, who balanced a sacred fruit on her finger like a spinning top, her frame slouched with a mix of nonchalance and defiance. "Hey, Lilith," he said, his voice rough but laced with a mocking edge to loosen the knot in his chest, "you think this horde's gonna be more fun than those kobolds from day one? 'Cause if not, I'm asking you to juggle those light traps for my entertainment."
She let out a low chuckle, catching the fruit midair with a theatrical flourish that made her red eyes glint beneath her dark habit. "Oh, my lord, if you survive tonight, I'll put on a whole show: fruit, daggers, even the elder sister's habit if she lends it to me," she replied, winking as she leaned toward him, her warm breath brushing his arm. "But only if you give me a new title. How's 'Lilith, the Magnificent'? Three days with me, and you deserve a promotion, don't you think?"
Renn barked a dry laugh, giving her a light shove with his shoulder, his fingers grazing the edge of her habit. "Deal. But only if you stop calling me 'my lord' every other sentence. You're making me feel like I've got a dusty throne and a crown I didn't ask for."
Lilith widened her eyes in mock shock, clutching her chest as if wounded. "Stop calling you 'my lord'? Impossible. I've only got one lord, and that's you. Right, elder sister?" She turned to Seraphina with a defiant grin, seeking backup with a mischievous glint.
Seraphina glanced up from the light trap she was adjusting, her fingers pausing over the mechanism as if calibrating it to slice the air itself. Her tone was firm, almost sharp, but heavy with a devotion carved in stone. "That's right, Lilith. 'My lord' is what he is, and there's no arguing it. Don't even think about it."
Her golden eyes flared beneath her white habit, locking onto Lilith with an intensity that brooked no reply before returning to her task with surgical precision, each movement like a decree. "If you give Lilith a dagger, my lord, there won't be a table left by the time she's done. We've got enough with her fruit splattering everywhere."
Lilith laughed, slicing another piece of fruit and offering it to Renn with an exaggerated flourish, as if presenting a bloodied jewel. "Wow, elder sister, so quick to defend the title. Fine, my lord, I surrender: you're my lord forever. But tell me, when do you teach me to stick daggers like you? I want my own wood to wreck."
The fruit's juice dripped onto the table, leaving a glossy trail that caught the candlelight like fresh blood.
Renn snatched the piece with a quick move and bit into it, grunting a laugh as he chewed, the sweetness cutting through the metallic taste lingering from the day. "If you're both so set on 'my lord,' guess I'm stuck with it. But watch out, Lilith—Seraphina's not kidding about her cuts. You'll lose fingers before you run out of fruit, and I'm not cleaning up that mess."
Seraphina snorted, her hand tweaking the trap with a sharp click that echoed through the room. "If you lose a finger, Lilith, it'll be because you earned it. And don't expect me to pick it up for you," she said, her voice a cold edge with an undercurrent of camaraderie Renn had come to recognize in his two days with her.
Valka, still by the window, turned her head slightly, her silver hair catching the light like a frozen river flowing through the gloom. She hummed a soft note, almost a stifled laugh, and the sound seemed to soothe the chill air, bringing a faint whiff of saltwater that mingled with the candle smoke. "The water says Seraphina would win that fight," she murmured, her blue eyes glinting with a playful spark as she stepped closer to the table, tilting her head toward Renn. "But Lilith would cheat with a dirty trick. And you, my lord? What does the water say about someone carrying so many daggers and so few doubts?"
Renn raised an eyebrow, eyeing her with curiosity as her cool presence wrapped around him, an odd calm that steadied him more than he'd expected after just hours with her. "The water's talking about me now? Hope it's saying something good, Valka, or I'll have to argue with a river and lose badly," he said, his tone teasing but tinged with intrigue he couldn't hide.
She gave a faint smile, subtle but warm, contrasting her imposing figure. "It says your current cuts like your blade, my lord. Precise, but unpredictable when it overflows," she replied, her voice resonating like a deep echo from somewhere beneath the earth.
Lilith pointed at Valka with the half-eaten fruit, grinning ear to ear as juice dripped down her hand. "Valka, you know me too well for someone who's only been here a few hours! What's the water say about our lord? That he's a decent boss or just lucky to have us three?"
Valka tilted her head, as if listening to something distant, her fingers brushing her white armor with a faint creak. Then she looked at Renn with a calm that seemed to envelop him like an unseen current. "The water says his current carries us. Luck or not, it flows well, my lord," she said, her tone steady but layered with a hint that made him feel she saw more than she let on.
Lilith leaned toward him again, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial edge that sliced the air like a playful knife. "It's a miracle, my lord. Three days with me, two with the elder sister, a few hours with Valka… and you're still alive. That's pure magic—or maybe you like chaos as much as I do."
Seraphina huffed, returning to her trap with a precise motion that snapped a spring like a gunshot. "Magic or patience, Lilith. Someone should study him, my lord, and it won't be me wasting time with your sticky fruit," she said, her voice sharp but with an undercurrent Renn knew was her way of showing respect.
Valka hummed another note, higher this time, and the candles seemed to flare brighter, the air charging with a faint ozone scent that mingled with the smoke. "The water studies him," she murmured, almost to herself, before adding with a slight wink at Renn, "and it says you should teach Lilith to throw daggers before she tries stealing yours, my lord."
Renn laughed, tapping the table with a finger as the echo of his chuckle filled the room. "Good advice, Valka. But I think Lilith's already got plans for my dagger—and my head—if I let her loose too long," he said, feeling the day's weight lift for a moment, though the wind's chill still crept in as a reminder.
Lilith gasped dramatically, clutching her chest with the fruit still dripping. "My lord, what an accusation! I just want your dagger to practice… and maybe your cloak for the show. Is that too much to ask after three days saving your hide?" Her grin twisted, a playful edge that cut the tension like a well-honed blade.
Renn shook his head, catching another fruit chunk she tossed and biting into it with a grunt. "Keep dreaming, Lilith. If I survive this, you get the cloak—but the dagger's mine."
Three days, he thought again, the fruit's sweetness mingling with the bitter aftertaste of sweat and blood from the day, and I already feel like these three are more family than anything I left behind.
The silence shattered with a roar that shook the sanctuary, as if the earth itself had split open in a ravenous growl that tore the air from the wall's cracks. The stained glass whined with a high-pitched moan that sounded like a lament, and the candle flames teetered on collapse, casting sharp shadows that sliced across the table like knives.
An ethereal voice broke through, resonating with a weight that creaked the ceiling beams, as a blue hologram rose before Renn, words floating like a decree carved in the ether, each syllable charged with a power that smelled of burnt ozone and cold metal.
[World Announcement:] "Children of fate, the time has come to transcend mere protection. Fight for glory, die with honor, or surrender to the darkness. Ascend among the Lords or fall into the bottomless abyss. The Trial of Beasts begins: three hordes will test your steel. Your strength, your territory, will dictate the weight of your destiny. For each wave endured, you will receive: after the first, 100 Arcane Energy Crystals, 500 Basic Materials, 500 experience, and 1,000 Gold Coins. The second grants 200 Crystals, 300 Advanced Materials, 1,000 experience, 2,000 gold, and an Enhancement Scroll. The third, 500 Crystals, 100 Epic Materials, 2,500 experience, 5,000 gold, a Minor Artifact, and a Random Common Troop Building Blueprint.]
The strongest among millions will rise in the rankings: from common chests with weapons to ancestral ones with unique blueprints, and titles to elevate your name. The first among all will claim a Legendary Ascension Artifact, the title 'King of the Hordes,' and a Hidden Destiny Scroll unlocking a unique challenge.
But choose wisely: activate a Defensive Shield to save your territory, yet forfeit the remaining waves; or surrender as Lords, saving your skin at the cost of your legacy. In the end, the Lords' Market will open its gates, auctions will resound, global and regional chats will unite you, and your territories will take new forms."
The hologram faded with a hum that left a dull echo in Renn's ears, the air thick with a burnt-metal scent that scraped his throat. He gripped his blessed dagger's hilt, the cold metal biting his palm as he turned to the nuns, his jaw tight but his voice steady, laced with a mocking edge that cut through the silence like a blade. "Well, what do you think, huh? They crush us, or we give 'em a show they'll regret showing up for?"
Lilith leaned back against the table, arms crossed with a crooked grin that flashed like a knife under the flickering candlelight, her dark habit soaking up the shadows as if they were part of her. "A bunch of Lords are gonna run to hide under those shields like rats, or toss their titles out the window like they're worth less than my last fruit," she said, her tone playful but sharp as a freshly honed edge.
She leaned closer to Renn, her voice dropping with a conspiratorial air that seemed to slice the very atmosphere. "Tell me, my lord, how many you think last before their legs shake and they cry for mommy?"
Renn grunted a laugh, tapping his dagger against the wood in an uneven rhythm that echoed like a broken drum, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. "If they give up fast, all the better for us. More room to shine, Lilith, the Magnificent," he replied, tossing her a wink that barely softened the hardness in his gray eyes. "Since you showed up three days ago, you've got me thinking big. This is gonna be a glorious mess, and we're coming out smelling like blood and gold."
Lilith let out a low cackle, smacking the table with a finger as the fruit in her other hand dripped red juice onto the wood, an echo of the violence to come. "A glorious mess? Oh, my lord, that's the sweetest thing I've heard all day. I just light the spark; you're the one making the fire that burns everything down."
She turned to Seraphina, raising an eyebrow with a defiant glint. "What do you say, elder sister? We get rich off their crystals, or leave the gold for the cowards who hide?"
Seraphina didn't look up from her light weapon, her fingers tweaking a spring with a precision that cut the air like a scalpel, the click of the mechanism ringing like a gunshot in the quiet room. "Less competition if they surrender," she said, her voice sharp as a guillotine's edge, each word carved with icy resolve. "We're going for the rankings, my lord. Every wave, every strike, we turn into steps to climb. No shields or surrenders here."
Her golden eyes flicked up for a moment, meeting Renn's with an intensity that left no room for doubt, a cold fire burning beneath her skin. "If Lilith wants chaos, she'd better aim it right. I'm not cleaning her messes or picking up her sticky fruit."
Lilith pouted theatrically, clutching her chest with the still-dripping fruit, the juice leaving a glossy trail that looked like blood under the candlelight. "My messes? Elder sister, you wound my heart. I just want to see those beasts burn a little before you slice them to bits with your prayers and holy hands. Is that too much to ask after two days putting up with me?"
Her grin twisted, a playful edge that cut the tension like a well-sharpened blade.
"Yes," Seraphina shot back, dry as the snap of her weapon locking into place, the sound ringing like a gunshot in the room. "Aim or I'll cut you first, and don't expect me to pray for your soul after."
Valka stepped forward, the faint creak of her boots echoing like a ripple over water, her tall frame casting a shadow that flowed like a dark river under the flickering light. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the wind wailed like a distant lament, carrying a scent of wet earth and salt that mingled with the candle smoke. "I feel an ominous air," she said, her tone low and measured, as if the words sank into the floor with the weight of an ancient secret.
She hummed a low note, and the air seemed to grow colder, charged with a faint moss-and-ozone scent that scraped Renn's throat. "I don't think the horde we face will be like the others'. Whoever holds the Reliquary already felt us searching for it… and this is personal."
She turned to Renn, her blue eyes gleaming with a cold certainty that pierced him like an icy knife. "My lord, the water whispers they're not just coming for blood. They're coming for something you carry in your fate."
Renn frowned, twirling his dagger until its tip grazed the wood, the sound of metal against the surface pulsing like a slow heartbeat in the room. "The Reliquary? You think they've got us targeted for that?" His voice dropped to a thoughtful murmur, Valka's words settling over him like a shadow he couldn't shake.
What the hell do these bastards know that I don't? he thought, the dagger's cold hilt biting into his palm as his mind spun.
Valka tilted her head, her blue eyes glinting with a spark that seemed to come from somewhere far off, an echo of something deep that made him feel she saw beyond flesh and bone. "I don't think it. I know it," she replied, her voice resonating like an underground echo that seemed to vibrate in the walls. "The water doesn't lie, my lord. Its currents are spinning too fast, like something stirred them from below—something that wants to stop you."
Lilith whistled, leaning back until her spine brushed the wall, the fruit in her hand dripping a red trail that looked like fresh blood under the flickering light. "Well, my lord, if they want it personal, I'll give 'em chaos they'll never forget," she said, her tone sharp as a playful knife while her fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the table, defying the silence. "Let 'em come with their beasts; I've got the surprises, and they won't know what hit 'em."
"Then we face it head-on," Seraphina said, her voice slicing the air like an unyielding blade as she stowed her weapon with a final click that rang like a gunshot in the room. "Every wave's a chance—crystals, artifacts, whatever. We take it all and rise."
She turned to Renn, her expression cold but charged with a fire that seemed to burn beneath her skin, a glint that anchored him in the moment. "Give us the order, my lord. We're ready to turn this into steps to the top."
Renn straightened, clenching his fist until his knuckles paled beneath his weathered skin, a wild gleam flashing across his gray eyes like lightning in the brewing storm. "Let 'em come," he said, his voice hardening like forged iron as he drove his dagger into the table with a sharp thud that rattled the wood, the sound reverberating like a challenge that cut through the cold air. "We'll show 'em what we're made of."
Lilith laughed, raising a fist with a flash of her red eyes that promised pure chaos. "That's my lord. If I die, let it be in style, drenched in blood and laughing to the end."
"You're not dying," Seraphina cut in, her tone sharp as her weapon's edge as she stepped toward the light trap, her white habit billowing with each stride like a banner in the gloom. "Not while I'm here to keep you in line."
Valka hummed a final note, soft but steady like an unstoppable current, and the candle shadows seemed to stretch, the air charging with a faint salt-and-moss scent that felt like it came from somewhere deep. "The water guides us," she murmured, her blue eyes blazing with an intensity that sliced through the darkness like a beacon. "And it says the first strike is just the start, my lord."
The wind turned into a deafening roar that seemed to uproot the forest, and a crack split the air as if the sky itself had torn in two, a sound that rattled Renn's bones and left a dull echo in his ears. The stained glass groaned under the pressure, the crystal vibrating with a high-pitched wail that sounded like a choked scream, and the System spoke again, its voice cutting through the room with brutal clarity:
[World Announcement]: "The lord's barrier has fallen. Fight or die!"
The light traps flared to life with a hum that sliced the air, casting golden flashes that lit the perimeter like beacons in the storm. The watchtowers glowed, their silhouettes stark against the gloom like iron-and-stone sentinels defying the night.
Renn drew his dagger in a swift motion, the cold metal in his hand a contrast to the heat rising in his chest, and turned to the nuns, his voice ringing with an urgency that cut through the chaos. "Positions, now! We don't give 'em a damn second!"
Lilith spread her black wings edged with gold, leaping west with a grace that defied gravity, her laughter echoing like a sharp blade over the wind's roar. "On it, my lord! This'll be more fun than a barrel of drunk kobolds," she shouted, her figure outlined against the dark sky as she took her place.
Valka moved north with silent, steady steps, her armor reflecting the light like a beacon cutting through the gloom, the air around her charging with a faint scent of salt and stagnant water. "The water awaits them, my lord," she murmured, her deep voice resonating like an echo as she positioned herself, her blue eyes gleaming with a calm that held a storm within.
Seraphina took her place beside Renn at the front, her light weapon ready in her hands, its white glow slicing the shadows like a divine blade. "With you, my lord," she said, her tone cold but solid as unyielding rock, adjusting her stance with military precision carved in ice. "Let the unholy fall beneath your will."
Renn stared into the forest, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum, the wind's chill cutting his skin like an icy knife. The school had taught him basic combat—quick strikes, precise cuts, calculated dodges—though Lords rarely fought. Most left it to the troops, sending them to the front while they barked orders from the safety of their territories.
But Renn wasn't like that. If I'm leading, I do it from the front, he thought, gripping his dagger with a mix of resolve and defiance, recalling the lessons he'd drilled in dusty simulations, hands bleeding after hours of training the instructors said he'd never use. They command, we fight. To hell with their rules.
The forest stirred as if vomiting something alive, and a strange air hit him: these weren't the basic invaders he'd studied—clumsy goblins, weak kobolds, brainless beasts that fell to simple strategies. These had something more, a darkness twisting in their forms, a stench that didn't match the school's manuals. "This isn't what they taught me," he muttered, his breath forming small clouds in the icy air as he raised his dagger, the blade catching a glint of light that felt like a challenge in itself.
Seraphina glanced at him sidelong, her weapon glowing with an intensity that cut the shadows like a vengeful beacon. "Whatever they are, my lord, we purify them," she said, her voice a whisper of ice but charged with a faith that burned beneath her skin. "No room for doubt."
Renn nodded, his jaw tight. "Then let 'em come."
The forest spewed a tide of warped goblins, their twisted bodies surging forward like a chaotic wave birthed from the earth's guts. Thousands strong, an avalanche of warty skin and eyes glowing with a feverish gleam, like rotting embers lit by blind hate.
Their shrieks rang in a deafening chorus, a frenzy of hunger and fury that shook the treetops, their claws tearing at the damp earth with a sound like snapping bones. Flanking them, shadow beasts prowled like living darkness, their black forms moving with unnatural agility, fangs dripping black venom that hissed against fallen leaves, leaving a sour stench that burned Renn's throat as if the air itself had rotted.
Lilith raised her hands from the west, her wings spread like a shroud of night and gold that sliced through the twilight, a cruel queen suspended in a sky bleeding with the day's dying light. "Let the game begin, my lord!" she cried, her voice sharp as shattered glass, laced with a delight that rang over the horde's roar.
Her fingers wove like they were threading a dark spell, and Supreme Confusion erupted in a wave of black energy that swept the goblin vanguard like an invisible tsunami, the air buzzing with a sound like a thousand maddened insects. Hundreds of goblin eyes clouded instantly, their shrieks turning to confused grunts as they turned on each other, clawing faces until skin peeled away with filthy talons, biting throats with splintered teeth that cracked against bone, stabbing with their own rusted weapons dripping blood and bile.
"Look at 'em dance for me, my lord! Isn't it art worthy of your damn throne?" she laughed, spinning in the air like a death dancer, blood splattering the ground in crimson arcs that painted the earth like a grotesque canvas, the smell of iron and rot filling the air with each falling body.
"Keep moving! Don't let 'em pile up!" Renn shouted from the front, his figure a blur of precision amid the chaos, sweat and blood mingling on his face like a war mask. His blessed dagger sliced the air with a surgeon's grace and a hunter's fury, sinking into a goblin's neck with a clean twist that dropped it without a whimper, blood gushing like a dark geyser that splashed his boots.
He pivoted on a heel, slashing another's throat with a cut that split flesh like paper, the stench of rotting meat hitting him as the body crumpled at his feet. Strike fast, aim true, don't stand still, he thought, his instructors' words a mantra in his mind as he dodged a claw swipe and drove his dagger into a third creature's chest, bone crunching under the blade.
The school had told him Lords didn't fight, that their strength was in troops, in orders from the rear. To hell with that, he growled to himself, wiping blood from his eyes with a quick swipe as the air filled with the reek of stale sweat and bile rising from mangled bodies. Here, dagger in hand, I feel more alive than ever.
Seraphina charged to his right, her light weapon blazing like a vengeful sun that shattered the gloom, its white glow cutting shadows like a divine blade that seemed to sear the air itself. "O Lord, let your shadow shield me; let your wrath crush the wicked; let my hand be your sword and my voice your thunder," she chanted, her voice ringing like a psalm torn from the heavens' depths, cold and sharp as ice slicing flesh.
She drove her blade into a goblin's chest with brutal force, twisting until bone cracked and flesh tore, the wet-dry sound echoing over the horde's shrieks as blood flowed like a dark river that stained her hands. "No refuge for sinners before your light," she continued, raising a hand toward a pack of shadow beasts lunging at her, their fangs dripping black venom that hissed against the ground.
A blinding flare burst from her palm, and the creatures writhed, their bodies burning from within with a crackle like dry wood snapping under fire, until they exploded into ash in a flash that left a charred-meat smell drifting in the air. "Unworthy," she spat, ripping out another goblin's heart with a dry yank, the organ hitting the ground steaming before she crushed it under her boot with a calm that chilled the blood.
From the north, Valka raised her voice in a deep chant that rumbled like an enraged ocean's roar, a sound that seemed to rise from the earth's depths and shook the ground beneath Renn's feet. "My lord, the water sees them coming," she said, her tone steady as a whirlpool of water and shadow rose from the earth, trapping dozens of shadow beasts in a vortex spinning with contained but overwhelming force.
Their bodies twisted in the current, claws and fangs clashing uselessly against the maelstrom that tore them apart, black water splashing like ink as the air filled with a salt-and-rot stench that cut Renn's throat. "They won't pass," she declared, and with a wrist flick, the vortex expanded, swallowing a hundred more goblins in a whirlwind that ground them into a thick sludge of flesh and bone, a blood-and-stagnant-water reek rising like dense fog.
"Want me to drown 'em faster, my lord, or leave some for your dagger?" she asked, her gaze fixed on Renn with a playful glint that pierced the gloom like a beacon, her voice an echo over her power's roar.
Renn dodged a shadow beast's swipe, venom splattering the ground inches from his boots, and sank his dagger into its chest with a sharp blow that cracked like breaking wood, the rotting-meat stench hitting him as the body collapsed. "Drown 'em, Valka! Leave the scraps for Lilith," he replied, spinning to slice another goblin's tendon with a clean cut that left it writhing on the ground, blood splashing his hands with a sticky heat that clashed with the wind's chill.
The air was thick with screams and stench, a chaos that enveloped him like a storm, but his movements were precise, each slash an echo of the lessons he'd bled for in school.
Lilith drifted closer, her laughter cutting the air like a honed knife defying the horde's roar. "Oh, my lord, how generous! You give me the broken toys to finish," she sang, her voice ringing with a delight that fed on the surrounding chaos.
Instead of repeating her confusion spell, she targeted a group of goblins advancing west and wove a different magic: sharp shadows sprang from the ground like spears, impaling her victims in a forest of dark spikes that pierced flesh and bone with a wet, crunching sound, the smell of fresh blood filling the air as the bodies twitched like trapped insects. "How's this for your show, my lord? A blood garden just for you!" she laughed, clapping her blood-stained hands as the goblins shrieked in agony, the death reek rising like a thick cloud that cut Renn's breath.
Seraphina strode forward, her light sweeping hundreds of goblins in a blast that left a smoking crater in the ground, the air filling with a burnt-flesh-and-ozone scent that scraped Renn's throat like a swig of acid. "Let the wicked tremble beneath your gaze, O Lord," she intoned, her voice an icy roar as she tore a goblin's heart out with a dry yank that cracked bone, the organ hitting the ground with a wet splat before bursting into ash under a blinding flash that lit the field like lightning.
"They shall not defile this place," she growled, kicking the corpse aside with a force that sent it rolling like a broken stone, the charred-meat stench rising as the body disintegrated on the ground.
Valka hummed a deeper note, and the earth trembled as a nearby river rose, breaking its banks with a roar that echoed like a wounded giant's cry. "The water doesn't forgive, my lord," she said, her voice an echo over the din as a colossal wave, black as ink and laced with shadows, smashed hundreds of enemies against the trees, the sound of splintering wood and tearing flesh filling the air with a grotesque chorus.
The water splashed Renn, cold and salty, leaving a bitter tang on his tongue as the blood-and-rot stench enveloped him. "Want me to send it east? I feel more coming," she added, her tone firm but with an undercurrent that seemed to defy the chaos itself.
"Do it, Valka!" Renn ordered, dodging a shadow beast's swipe that grazed his arm, venom sizzling the ground with a hiss that burned the grass. He drove his dagger into the creature's eye with a sharp strike, the bone crunch ringing in his ears as black blood splashed his face, hot and sticky like tar. "Don't let 'em flank us!" he shouted, spinning to cut another goblin's tendon as it writhed on the ground, the reek of stale sweat and rotting flesh filling his nose as the field turned into a swamp of blood and ash.
The climax came with a display of absolute dominion that felt ripped from a fever dream. Lilith landed in the center of her flank, her wings spread like a mantle of night and gold that sliced the air with a sharp whisper, and raised her hands with a cry that rang like a challenge to the sky itself. "Kneel before my lord!" she roared, her voice cutting like shattered glass as she unleashed a pulse of dark energy that struck the last goblins like an invisible hammer.
Their bodies dropped to their knees, eyes clouded with confusion, and in an instant, their heads exploded in a symphony of blood and bone, the air filling with a mangled-flesh stench that hit Renn like a physical blow. Seraphina and Valka joined forces in a final strike, a torrent of light and water sweeping the flanks like a vengeful wave: Seraphina's divine light incinerated goblins in ash bursts that smelled of burnt flesh and sulfur, while Valka's water crushed shadow beasts against the ground with a roar that left a salt-and-rot echo in the air.
Renn finished off the remaining goblin leaders, his dagger dancing between them with precise cuts that sliced flesh and bone like paper, each strike's sound echoing like a broken drum in the chaos. "This is a cakewalk!" he shouted, wiping blood from his face with a quick swipe as the last goblin fell at his feet, the fresh-blood-and-stale-sweat reek filling his nose like dense fog.
When silence fell, the forest was a graveyard, the ground a swamp of blood, ash, and mangled bodies. Renn took a deep breath, the cold air cutting his throat as he wiped his dagger on his sleeve, the metal dripping a dark red that gleamed under the trap lights. "Too easy," he said, eyeing the carnage with a raised brow, his breath clouding in the icy air. "But loud as hell."
A roar tore through the air, deep and guttural, slicing the silence like a knife through flesh. From the forest's gloom emerged a colossal goblin, its cracked skin pulsing with black veins that writhed like snakes beneath the surface, its eyes glowing with a venomous glare that cut the darkness like rotting torches.
Its long, curved claws dripped green venom that hissed against the ground, leaving a sour stench that burned Renn's throat like a swig of acid. With a grotesque hand gesture, it summoned a pack of lesser reinforcements, smaller but swift goblins bursting from the earth like starving worms, their shrieks filling the air with a chorus that seemed to claw at the sanctuary's walls.
"They won't let you reclaim the Reliquary, humans," the leader growled, its raspy voice resonating with an intelligence that chilled Renn's blood, an echo that didn't fit the dumb goblins of the school's manuals. "You'll die here, and your bodies will feed the earth."
Renn frowned, raising his dagger with a defiant glint in his gray eyes. "The Reliquary? What do you know about that, beast?" he asked, his voice sharp as his weapon's edge as he stepped forward, the ground beneath his boots soaked with blood and mud that reeked of rot and iron.
The leader laughed, a guttural sound that seemed to rise from the earth's bowels, spitting black bile that splashed the ground with an acidic hiss. "More than your fragile minds can bear, weakling," it replied, raising a claw that glowed with a venomous sheen as it lunged at Renn with a speed that belied its size.
Seraphina stepped forward, her light weapon erupting in a white blaze that cut the gloom like a vengeful beacon, the air humming with a heat that burned away the night's chill. "O Lord, let your light be my shield and your fury my spear," she recited, her voice icy but charged with a faith that burned beneath her skin, ringing like a psalm torn from the sky.
She dodged the venomous swipe with a precise twist, the venom splattering the ground inches from her boots with a hiss that filled the air with a rotting-flesh stench, and drove her blade into the leader's arm with brutal force, tearing it off with a twist that cracked bone and ripped flesh, the wet-dry sound echoing over the lesser goblins' shrieks.
"Seraphina, hit it!" Renn shouted, dispatching a lesser goblin lunging at him with a clean slash that severed its neck, blood gushing like a dark geyser that splashed his face, hot and sticky against his cold skin. He spun to stab another in the chest, the bone crunch ringing in his ears as the reek of stale sweat and bile enveloped him.
The leader roared, its other arm swinging a venomous blow that sliced the air with a deadly whistle, venom splattering near Renn and scorching the grass with a smell that scraped his throat like acid. Renn dodged by a hair, the hot air brushing his face as he rolled and sprang up, dagger ready to strike back. But Seraphina was already on the leader, her divine light overwhelming it like a sun burning away the dark.
"In nomine Domini, purgo te," she recited, her voice an icy roar as she stabbed the leader's eye with a dry thrust, the blade sinking to the hilt with a crunch like breaking wood. The goblin shrieked, a sound that cut the air like a broken wail, and she twisted the blade, ripping the eye out with a blinding flash that burned the flesh from within, the charred-meat stench filling the air as the leader writhed.
"No place for you in my Lord's light," she growled, driving her free hand into the leader's chest with a force that cracked ribs, tearing out its heart with a brutal twist that made it burst into ash under a white flare that lit the field like lightning. The corpse collapsed, smoking, a heap of burnt flesh that stank of sulfur and rot.
Lilith drifted near, kicking a lesser goblin with a casual swipe as she laughed. "That was nasty, elder sister. I like your style—a bit more blood, and you could be my apprentice," she said, her tone sharp as a playful knife while she unleashed a confusion wave on the leader's reinforcements, sending them spinning in a useless frenzy that filled the air with the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bones.
Valka hummed from the north, her deep chant resonating like an echo that cut through the chaos, and a whirlpool of water and shadow swept the remaining lesser goblins, crushing them against the ground with a sound like a thousand snapping branches. "It's done, my lord," she said, her voice steady and calm as the water receded, leaving a thick sludge of flesh and bone that reeked of salt and rot.
Renn wiped his dagger on his sleeve, panting as the cold air cut his throat, the metallic taste of blood still on his tongue. "It mentioned the Reliquary," he said, his voice low but urgent as he eyed the leader's smoking corpse. "This isn't normal."
The field was a sea of mangled bodies, the ground soaked with blood and ash that formed a grotesque swamp beneath Renn's boots. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burnt flesh, a smell that clung to the throat like a layer of tar.
Renn leaned on his dagger, his breathing controlled but heavy, wiping it on his sleeve as he surveyed the wreckage with a raised brow. "That wasn't normal," he said, turning to the nuns, his voice sharp with a mix of fatigue and suspicion. "The school taught us invaders are dumb, basic—goblins that drop with a breeze, kobolds that can't even fight. These… they've got something else. That leader knew too much."
Lilith landed beside him, kicking a goblin corpse with a casual swipe that crunched its broken bones under her boot, the sound echoing dryly in the silence. "What, my lord? Expected 'em to be uglier?" she said, wiping blood-stained hands on her habit with a crooked grin. "I made 'em suffer for you, and look how pretty the field turned out—a painting worth hanging."
She pulled a sacred fruit from her pocket, now splattered with goblin blood, and offered it to Renn with a playful wink. "A trophy for my lord? It's a little used, but it's got character."
Renn grunted a laugh, waving it off as the smell of blood and sweetness hit his nose. "Save it for your show, Lilith. I don't want that thing near my mouth," he said, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of gratitude that cut through the cold air. "Three days with you, and you've got me cracking jokes in a graveyard."
Seraphina checked her light weapon, its white glow fading with a hum that left a faint ozone scent in the air, her face cold as a mask carved from ice. "Too many, but weak," she said, her voice sharp as a scalpel's edge as she sheathed the weapon with a dry click that rang across the field. "That leader spoke with purpose. This isn't a school game, my lord—it's a desecration demanding answers."
Her golden eyes lifted to Renn, blazing with an intensity that seemed to burn beneath her skin, a cold fire that anchored him in the moment.
Valka approached with silent steps, water dripping from her fingers as if the river itself had followed her, leaving a wet trail that smelled of salt and moss on the soaked ground. She hummed a low note that resonated like a deep echo, the air charging with a faint wet-earth scent that cut through the death reek. "The Reliquary, my lord," she said, her voice low and measured as she gazed into the forest, her blue eyes gleaming with a certainty that seemed to come from somewhere deep. "The water felt it in his words. There's a purpose behind this, a current we don't see yet."
She paused, humming another note that seemed to make the ground tremble beneath their feet, and added, "And it says the next strike will cut deeper, my lord."
Renn frowned, twirling his dagger with a quick flick that sliced the air, the sound of metal brushing his palm pulsing like a heartbeat in the silence. "If this is bigger than I thought, we're gonna need everything we've got—weapons, magic, and a damn plan that doesn't break with the first hit," he said, his voice low but charged with a resolve that burned beneath his weathered skin.
The school didn't prep me for this, he thought, the goblin leader's words weighing on him like a shadow he couldn't shake. They said Lords don't fight, that troops handle it all. But here I am, blood up to my elbows and three nuns worth more than any classroom strategy. What the hell do these bastards know that I don't?
Lilith nudged him lightly, her tone sharp as a playful knife as she wiped another blood smear from her hands. "Three days, and we're already in deep trouble, my lord. What's next? An ugly dragon or something with more teeth?" Her laugh rang across the field, a sound that cut the cold air like a challenge.
"More blood," Seraphina said, her voice sharp as her weapon's edge as she turned toward the forest, her white habit billowing with each step like a banner in the gloom. "And more answers. This doesn't end here."
Valka nodded, her gaze fixed on the distance, water dripping from her fingers like an echo of something alive still breathing beneath the ground. "The water whispers," she murmured, her tone deep and resonating like an echo that sliced the silence. "This is just the beginning, my lord."