Explosions shook the ground, collapsing walls and filling the air with screams. At the edge of the Great Divide near Aurewyn, chaos took over. Demons swarmed in, breaking through the defenses. Fires spread across the land, and thick smoke darkened the sky.

  "Status report!" barked a sharp voice, crisp and clear even amidst the noise of war.

  The man who spoke stood tall on a ruined watchtower, his cloak fluttering in the heated wind. Thin-rimmed glasses sat firmly on the bridge of his nose, behind which glinted eyes sharp as blades. His name was Caelus Merin, a battlefield strategist whose mind was said to be more dangerous than any blade. He had never lost a war—until now.

  Explosions erupted left and right, the thunderous roars of collapsing walls and dying screams echoing across the battlefield. Near Aurewyn, right at the edge of the crumbling Great Divide, chaos reigned. Demons poured through like a flood, overwhelming defensive lines. Fires danced along the horizon, and the sky above was blackened with ash and smoke.

  "Status report!" barked a sharp voice, crisp and clear even amidst the noise of war.

  A young officer rushed to his side, covered in soot and blood, trying to catch his breath.

  "Sir! As you can see, we’re starting to get pushed back. The weapons are—no, the soldiers—they’re retreating. They're terrified. The demons are unlike anything we've faced before. They’re coordinated, almost tactical."

  Caelus’s jaw clenched. He adjusted his glasses calmly, scanning the war-torn land below. His brain was already working through probabilities, fallback points, supply lines, and emergency contingencies.

  But deep down, even he knew—this wasn’t a battle they could win with numbers or formation. Not anymore.

  "Order the 3rd wall to hold until the eastern evacuation is complete. Pull the arcane engineers to the ridge. If they fall, the entire eastern flank collapses."

  "But sir, they’ll be overrun—"

  "So will everyone, if we hesitate."

  Caelus turned his eyes skyward, where the dark clouds swirled unnaturally.

  Something has changed, he thought. The demons... they're no longer just invading. They're hunting.

  "Where is Ms. Aurewyn?!" Caelus yelled, his voice sharp over the roar of distant explosions.

  One of the soldiers, panting and half-covered in soot, responded quickly, "She’s on her way, sir! From the Vraxis Empire. Intel says King Albrecht is sending soldiers, mages, and mercenaries with her!"

  Caelus exhaled sharply and adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the flicker of firelight from the burning field. "Then we hold this line until she gets here. No excuses. If this front collapses, Aurewyn falls."

  He turned back toward the defensive wall, where soldiers scrambled to reload ballistae and fortify magical barriers. The stench of blood, ash, and ozone hung thick in the air. Every few seconds, a demon shrieked as it was either struck down or broke through the lines.

  "Form ranks! Mages to the rear! Reinforce the northern ridge!" Caelus barked.

  The soldiers moved with urgency, their fear barely masked by discipline. Despite the chaos, they obeyed. After all, Caelus wasn’t just a tactician—he was their shield, their brain in the firestorm.

  A nearby explosion rocked the earth, sending dirt and debris into the air. Caelus didn’t flinch.

  His fingers tightened around the map scrolls he carried. "Just a little longer… Lia, you'd better get here soon."

  At the front lines, warriors fought with everything they had, blades clashing and shields splintering as they desperately tried to hold back the demonic tide. The air was thick with smoke, blinding their vision, and the dense trees only made maneuvering harder, turning the battlefield into a suffocating deathtrap.

  Above them, the skies were blackened—not with clouds, but with manananggals, winged monstrosities whose twisted forms blotted out the sun. Their long, grotesque torsos hovered and dove like vultures, their gaping mouths shrieking as they snatched up any soldier too slow to react.

  Mages on the ground scrambled to shoot them down, launching streaks of fire and bolts of lightning into the sky—but there were too many. For every one that fell, two more took its place.

  "HELP! HELP! HELP ME!" one of the warriors screamed, flailing as a swarm of manananggals grabbed him mid-charge. His comrades reached out—but too late. He vanished into the smoke above, his cries echoing until they were suddenly cut short.

  Another mage collapsed to her knees, her mana nearly depleted, sweat and soot running down her face. "We're being overwhelmed!"

  A commander shouted over the noise, "Hold the line! Reinforcements are coming! Don't let them break through!"

  But for those in the front, it was starting to feel like those words were just empty hope. The enemy was endless. The sky rained death, and the ground itself trembled beneath the weight of chaos.

  "Man, fuck this!" one of the soldiers yelled, panic overtaking reason. He threw down his weapon and turned to run, shoving past his comrades as he bolted away from the front lines.

  That one act—just a single man giving in to fear—spread like wildfire.

  Others saw him fleeing, and something inside them cracked.

  One by one, soldiers nearby began to drop their weapons too, the grip of fear tightening around their hearts. "He's right! We're all gonna die!" someone shouted. Another turned and followed. Then another.

  Panic swept through the ranks like a curse. Discipline shattered. Screams replaced orders. Shields were abandoned, spells forgotten. The line began to collapse.

  Officers yelled in desperation, trying to rally the troops, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with bare hands.

  The demons saw the break—and surged forward with renewed hunger.

  A woman on a white steed burst through the haze of smoke and fear, her silver cloak billowing behind her like the wings of a fallen star. She radiated presence—commanding, graceful, unshaken. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and clear like steel drawn in defiance.

  "Is this how you choose to be remembered?! Running while your brothers and sisters die behind you?!"

  The soldiers hesitated, turning toward the sound, eyes wide.

  "Are you cowards?!" she roared, her horse rearing beneath her. "Or are you warriors of Aurewyn?!"

  Silence. Then a few soldiers stopped. Another gripped his sword tighter.

  "Stand and fight! Not for glory, not for medals—but for the ones who can’t! For the homes behind us! For the ones we love! If we fall, let it be with swords drawn and hearts unbroken!"

  A mage clenched his staff with trembling hands. "She's right…"

  The woman pointed her blade forward. "We are Aurewyn's shield! And shields do not flee. Shields do not fall!"

  A roar echoed back—not from demons, but from the soldiers.

  They turned. Picked up their weapons. And charged.

  The line reformed like a storm reborn, blades flashing, spells roaring through the air as the tide of fear turned to fury.

  "Now, CHARGE!!" she screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos.

  The soldiers, once hesitant, surged forward, weapons in hand. Mages fired spells into the air, while warriors clashed with demons.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The woman rode at the front, leading them with sword raised high. Her presence reignited their courage.

  The tide of battle shifted. Fear turned to fury as Aurewyn's soldiers fought back.

  ...

  "Sir Caelus, Captain Lira has successfully boosted our soldiers' morale on the front lines," one of the soldiers reported, breathless but with a sense of hope.

  "Good... But I'm worried," Caelus replied, his brow furrowing.

  "Worried?" the soldier asked, confusion in his voice.

  "Yes. It won't be long until a high-ranking demon shows up. A one-horned, two-horned, or even an archdemon could appear at any moment," Caelus explained, his tone grim.

  "Bring me a list of our soldiers and their battle power, and look for any mercenaries available. We'll pay them whatever it takes."

  The soldier didn’t hesitate. He nodded, then quickly left to carry out the order, the weight of the situation hanging heavily in the air.

  "Lira... how long will you be able to hold the front line?" Caelus asked, his voice low as he stared out the window, watching the chaos unfold in the distance. The sounds of battle echoed faintly in the air, a constant reminder of the impending danger.

  He turned slightly, his gaze narrowing as he watched the smoke rise over the battlefield, knowing the burden that Lira carried on her shoulders.

  ...

  "Captain Lira!" A soldier, drenched in blood, screamed as he stumbled toward her. "There's a one-horned demon—" But before he could finish or even get close, his head dropped to the ground with a sickening thud.

  The one-horned demon emerged through the smoke, its form thin and eerie, yet menacing. Lira’s instincts immediately sharpened. She had seen enough battles to know that appearances could be deceiving, and this creature was no exception. She steadied herself, not allowing any weakness to show.

  The demon raised a hand high, and a dark magic circle appeared before it, pulsing ominously. In an instant, a massive spiked rock shot forth, aimed directly at Lira.

  Without hesitation, Lira leaped from the back of her horse, her sword flashing through the air. In one swift, decisive motion, she sliced through the rock, splitting it clean in half. The fragments scattered, but Lira remained focused, her eyes locked on the demon.

  The demon tilted its head, as if intrigued or even amused by her speed and skill. Its twisted smile barely visible beneath the shadows of its horns.

  Behind her, one of the mages gathered energy, calling upon a spell. "Thunderbolt!" he shouted, releasing the magic with force.

  The bolt crackled through the air, heading straight for the demon, but the creature raised its hand and deflected the spell with a casual flick, sending the lightning splintering into the sky like a broken branch.

  Lira’s eyes narrowed, realizing this enemy was no ordinary foe. They were facing something far more dangerous.

  The one-horned demon smirked, its dark eyes gleaming with malice as it effortlessly deflected the lightning. Lira gripped her sword tighter, feeling the weight of the battle ahead. This wasn’t just about survival anymore, it was about stopping a threat that could tear through their ranks if they weren’t careful.

  “Form up!” Lira shouted to the soldiers behind her. She knew this wasn’t a fight she could win alone. As if on cue, warriors and mages began to rally behind her, their faces grim but resolute.

  A group of armored warriors, led by a large man with a battle-axe, charged forward, their swords raised high. “For the Captain!” they yelled in unison, slamming into the demon’s side. They struck with precision, but the demon’s long, thin limbs were surprisingly agile, dodging and countering with swift, brutal attacks. Its claws raked through the air, cutting down the first few warriors before they could even blink.

  Lira took advantage of the distraction. With a powerful thrust, she closed the distance and aimed a lethal strike at the demon’s torso. The blade met resistance, but it didn’t sink in. The demon’s skin was tough—almost impossibly so—like dark stone.

  “Damn it,” Lira muttered under her breath. She pulled back, but the demon was already retaliating. It swung its arm out, sending a wave of dark energy toward her, knocking her off balance. She barely managed to roll out of the way, the blast leaving a smoldering mark where she had been.

  “Captain!” A voice shouted from behind. A warrior, armed with twin short swords, rushed in to help, his movements swift as he slashed at the demon’s legs. The creature hissed in frustration, but as the warrior dodged to the side, another warrior lunged with a spear, aiming for its exposed side.

  The demon’s response was immediate—its twisted horned head snapped toward the warrior with the spear, and with a twisted flick of its wrist, it sent a spiked tendril through the air. The spear-wielding warrior never saw it coming. The tendril pierced his chest, and with a sickening crunch, he was thrown back, lifeless, into the dirt.

  “NO!” Lira roared, her voice filled with fury. She charged forward once more, her sword crackling with energy, but just as she was about to strike, a blast of raw magical force slammed into the side of the demon, sending it reeling backward.

  From behind, one of the mages had cast a barrier spell, but it wasn’t just any ordinary shield. It was infused with lightning, designed to hold back the demon’s raw power. “Captain, take it down now!” the mage shouted, sweat pouring from his face.

  The demon hissed in frustration, its eyes locking onto Lira once more. It began to chant, the air around it warping as it summoned another magic circle. But this time, the warriors weren’t giving it the chance to finish.

  A group of archers, positioned on the high ground, let loose a volley of arrows. The demon swiped them away, but the distraction was enough. Lira moved in fast, her sword glowing brightly with her own magic. She struck once, twice—each blow testing the demon’s defenses.

  Finally, with a cry of frustration, the demon staggered back, blood dripping from its wounds. But it wasn’t done. With a snap of its fingers, a wave of shadow energy spread out from it, engulfing the battlefield in a thick, inky darkness. The soldiers and mages stumbled, trying to keep their bearings, but everything was shrouded in blackness.

  “Push through it!” Lira shouted, her voice cutting through the shadowed fog. She could feel the presence of the demon in the darkness, its twisted power lingering like a bad omen.

  One of the warriors, a large woman wielding a massive sword, stepped forward. “Let’s do this together!” she yelled. “For our families, for Aurewyn!”

  The group rallied behind her, charging straight into the darkness with renewed strength, the sounds of clashing steel and magic ringing through the air. Lira, eyes narrowed and heart pounding, knew this was their only chance to end it.

  With a cry, she swung her sword in a wide arc, the blade crackling with power, cutting through the shadow that surrounded them. The demon let out a blood-curdling scream as Lira’s sword connected with its side, leaving a deep gash. It staggered, the once unbreakable creature finally showing signs of weakness.

  “Now! Everyone—together!” Lira shouted, rallying her forces for one final push.

  With that, the remaining warriors and mages gathered their strength, attacking with everything they had. The one-horned demon roared in agony, its body writhing under the onslaught, but in the end, the combined might of Lira’s forces was too much.

  With one final strike from Lira, the demon exploded into a mass of black smoke and shattered energy. The battlefield fell eerily silent as the soldiers and mages stood, panting, victorious but battered.

  “We did it,” one of the soldiers whispered, looking around at the carnage.

  Lira stood over the fallen demon, her sword still in hand, her heart still racing. But she knew this was only the beginning. The war was far from over, and there would be more battles to come. She turned back to the soldiers and mages, her voice steady but filled with resolve.

  “Get ready,” she said, her eyes burning with determination. “We fight until the end.”

  ...

  "Sir Caelus, I've found some mercenaries and the report you asked for," the soldier reported, his voice laced with urgency as he handed over the scrolls.

  Caelus, still standing at the window, surveying the battlefield, turned to face him. His glasses gleamed with the reflection of the distant flames that were consuming parts of the forest. The sound of war echoed in the distance, but Caelus’s mind remained sharp, focused on the task at hand.

  “Mercenaries?” he asked, his voice cold and calculating.

  “Yes, sir. A mix of experienced fighters, ranging from swordsmen to mages. They’re willing to fight, but their terms are steep. They'll need double the pay to join our cause.” The soldier’s tone was cautious, knowing full well that Caelus wouldn’t take kindly to the mercenaries' demands.

  Caelus sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration before he took the report. His eyes scanned the parchment swiftly, digesting the information with precision. There was no time to waste.

  “We don’t have the luxury of bargaining,” Caelus muttered under his breath. His sharp gaze lifted back to the soldier. “We need them. Even if we have to give them everything we’ve got. Prepare the gold and send word to them immediately. We’ll pay whatever they ask. They’re our last chance to hold the line.”

  The soldier nodded and quickly turned to leave, but Caelus stopped him.

  "Wait," he called. "Have you seen Captain Lira? Where is she now?"

  The soldier hesitated before replying, his face grim. "She’s still holding the front lines, sir, but it’s getting worse. The demons are pushing harder than we anticipated. She... she might not be able to hold out much longer without reinforcements."

  Caelus’ jaw tightened, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he quickly masked it with his usual composed demeanor. “Tell her to keep pushing forward. Reinforcements are on the way. We can’t afford to lose that position.”

  With a nod, the soldier hurried off, and Caelus turned his gaze back to the war unfolding before him. Time was running out, and he knew the battlefield would soon become a nightmare if they didn’t act quickly.

  “Lira, you better hold on...” Caelus whispered to himself, the weight of command pressing heavily on his shoulders.

  Caelus squinted at the paper that the soldier brought in, his sharp gaze locking onto the name "Ren." Something about it felt familiar, like a shadow he couldn't quite place. The details of the mercenary's background were sparse, but the mention of his skills and his cold demeanor stood out. The name itself echoed in his mind.

  "Ren, huh... he looks like someone," Caelus muttered under his breath, his fingers tapping the edge of the paper. His thoughts briefly flashed to a past he’d long buried, a distant memory of a figure—someone who had vanished from the scene long ago. He couldn't quite remember the face, but the name struck a nerve.

  The report detailed Ren’s reputation as a ruthless mercenary with a cold and efficient style of combat. He was a lone wolf, known for taking on impossible odds and emerging victorious. He didn’t work for just anyone, but his price was high, which made him a last resort in times of desperate need. Caelus couldn’t help but wonder why Ren had come to Aurewyn now. Was he drawn to the chaos of the war? Or was there another reason?

  "His skills are exactly what we need," Caelus said aloud to no one in particular, folding the report carefully. "I’ll need to meet him in person."

  With a quick wave of his hand, he summoned the soldier who had brought him the mercenary’s details. "Get me Ren. Now."

  The soldier bowed quickly and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the stone halls of the command center. Caelus took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nagging feeling in his gut. Whatever connection he felt to Ren, it could wait. Right now, the survival of Aurewyn depended on this mercenary.

  "I just hope he’s the one we need," Caelus muttered, turning back to the battlefield.