Overwhelming Firepower

In the Northwest, a black wave of monsters rolled across the land. It was not a stampede, nor a charge; it was a tide.

From afar, it looked like the earth itself was moving, the open snowy fields swallowed by a crawling mass of warped silhouettes.

As they drew closer, the air above them shimmered unnaturally, as if reality itself recoiled from their presence.

A foul haze clung to the wave, thick, dark mana that pulsed and writhed like living smoke.

Snow should have reflected light, turning the world white and sharp, but here, it didn’t. The ice was stained, dulled beneath a creeping shadow that spread wherever the horde passed.

Each step the monsters took left behind more than footprints. The snow hissed and steamed, frost cracking apart as if something beneath it was rotting.

Thin veins of black bled through the ice, spreading outward in slow, unnatural patterns, like ink soaking into parchment.

A low, wet grinding sound came from the mass, faint at first, then building into a gnawing rumble.

Ice cracked, rocks shifted, and the wind carried a chorus of snarls and growls layered on top of one another.

The air itself felt wrong. It was thick, heavy, pressing down on the lungs. If one would breathe it in, it would leave a bitter taste on the tongue, metallic and foul, as though the wind carried rust and blood together.

Even from a distance, the demonic mana rolled outward in waves, invisible yet suffocating. The monsters were barely recognizable from what they were before.

Some resembled beasts that once roamed the northern wilds, wolves, bears, horned creatures adapted to the cold, but their bodies had been twisted beyond reason.

Limbs bent the wrong way. Joints bulged and split, bone pushing against skin that looked half-frozen, half-melted.

Eyes glowed dimly in the dark with fierce hunger, wanting to devour everything and anything in sight. Filled with anger that wants to share its pain with others.

They moved without rhythm, without caution. Some sprinted until their bodies tore themselves apart, only to keep crawling forward.

Others slammed headfirst into the ice, cracking their own skulls open, yet still rose moments later, snarling through shattered jaws.

Pain no longer existed for them, and worse than their appearance was what followed in their wake.

The animals tried to flee, but those that were too close in the path froze mid-step, trembling violently, before turning on each other in sudden bursts of madness.

Beaks tore into flesh. Claws raked without reason. Moments later, their bodies shuddered and rose again, eyes darkened, movements jerky and wrong.

This was pretty much a natural disaster, and it was heading straight for Ironhold. The wave of monsters could sense the area with the densest population near it, and it was drawn to it. The wave of monsters wanted to share their suffering with everything.

***

Lucen and his men had arrived in the open field Northwest of Ironhold, which was a few hours away.

They had moved as fast as they could so that they could prepare to intercept the incoming monster wave.

They quickly started preparing. Large rectangular shields were unloaded first. These were not ordinary tower shields.

Each was nearly as tall as a man, reinforced with layered steel plates and braced with thick rivets along the edges. Iron spikes jutted from their bases, meant to be driven deep into frozen ground.

Teams moved together, slamming the shields down in a staggered line. Once anchored, the shields locked together.

Hooks, clasps, and iron bars slid into place, forming a continuous screen that stretched across the field.

Narrow horizontal slits had been deliberately cut into the metal, just wide enough for a rifle barrel to pass through. Behind the shield line, the firing positions took shape.

Riflemen dropped to one knee, weapons braced against the slits. The steel absorbed recoil, letting them aim steadily even as their hands trembled from the pressure in the air. Between every few shield sections, heavier emplacements were set.

Each one of them had trained hard for this very day. A few were starting to feel the tension rising, but their body continued moving as they had trained.

The ground-mounted Gatling guns were hauled forward and locked into place with iron frames driven into the ice. Their cranks gleamed dully, already dusted with frost.

Ammunition boxes were set behind them, and feed mechanisms were checked one last time. No mana flowed through these weapons, only gears, springs, and relentless motion. Making them very unlikely to be affected by the distortions caused by demonic mana.

The Thunderspears were placed in the back. The dwarves had created a few metal balls with rune engravings that would do different things, from exploding upon contact with the enemy to freezing the enemy.

Of course, there were only a few of these metal balls with rune engravings. Right now, the dwarves were checking the equipment to make sure that none of them would fail while in battle.

The barbarians were given large shields and a weapon of their choosing. They were positioned near the riflemen just in case any monster got close enough.

The mages were making a magic circle using their blood and the snow while chanting. They were going to unleash a combined spell [Firestorm], which would incinerate the monsters in a fiery tornado.

Of course, after using this combined spell, most of them would need to rest to restore their mana before being able to do anything else.

In a different area, the aura user with the new armor and the modified Gatling gun formed a line.

They were not wearing the armor or holding the guns yet, since once they wore it, they needed to use their aura to move, so for now, they waited.

So right now they were simply doing their own thing to calm themselves down, and a few recited internal mantras, while others were doing mental training.

Lucen got ready as well. He picked up a rifle and got into position on higher ground by making a mage create a wall of earth where he stood to get a better line of sight to shoot from.

Despite using the same equipment as the others with his various skills, he can shoot farther than anyone else.

While everyone continued to make preparations, they felt the sudden change in the air. It was at the moment the ground started shaking.

The shaking was faint at first. A distant tremor that could almost be mistaken for imagination, like the echo of thunder trapped beneath the ice. The weapons started to rattle. Loose snow slid from shield edges in thin cascades.

Then it grew stronger. The ground pulsed beneath their boots in a slow, uneven rhythm. The horses tied behind the line began to panic.

Their hooves scraped against frozen earth, eyes rolling white as they strained against their restraints.

One of them let out a shrill scream before collapsing onto its side, foam spilling from its mouth.

A few soldiers flinched as they and Lucen felt it then. The pressure that weighed down on all of them, suffocating them. It was then they saw it on the horizon.

A black tide was rushing towards them. Even at this distance, they could feel their hunger, their pain.

A few of the soldiers gulped as fear was slowly gripping them. They had thought they could no longer feel fear and were ready for death, but looking at that black wave made a few of them puke.

Even the barbarians who fear nothing, and would challenge dragons if need be, actually tensed up looking at those things. Varek and the other barbarian chiefs did the same.

Durik and the dwarves had never felt such malice in the air. They gripped their weapons tightly as they watched the approaching wave.

Robert, who would usually smile and say that he wanted to dissect those things to experiment on them, said nothing and simply frowned.

Harlik, who had seen many things in his life of battle, this was another first for him, one that he could not have ever imagined seeing. This was far worse than the monster wave he had experienced before.

As the fear was about to overwhelm them, a booming voice, enhanced by aura, entered their ears.

”Everyone!” They turned around, to the direction of the voice, and saw Lucen standing on the earth wall.

”I know, right now, that the fear must be overwhelming you. I know, since I too am feeling the same. I hear my heart beating so fast right now.”

Lucen placed his hand on his chest and then clenched it. ”I will understand if you wish to flee now, but remember this. We are the last line of defense for those back in Ironhold!”

Lucen’s voice started sounding like a growling roar. ”To those who stay, I might not be able to promise you that you will survive, and despite my nickname being ever-victorious, I cannot promise you that either. What I do promise you is that you will be remembered for your courage in this battle!”

The excitement Lucen was feeling from the mix of his battle-crazed trait, the adrenaline, as well as whatever he was getting from acting adept, was infecting the others as well. Once again, Lucen did not notice the ring on his finger glowing a little brighter than before.

”Win or lose, the bards will sing of our story, of our epic! The honor and glory we gain today will reach Varkun’s hall of heroes! Follow me into battle, and our bodies might die, they might turn to dust, but our names will forever be immortalized in the mortal plane, and our souls guided by Velmira will reach the hall of heroes where our deeds will be remembered for eternity!”

For a heartbeat, there was only silence. The black tide continued to advance, the ground shuddering beneath its weight. The demonic pressure pressed harder, whispering doubt, clawing at the edges of thought.

Then suddenly steel rang. A barbarian slammed his shield into the frozen ground and let out a low, rumbling growl. Another followed, spirit tattoos flaring faintly as their breathing steadied.

A soldier tightened his grip on his rifle. Someone else wiped vomit from their mouth, straightened their back, and stepped back into line.

Varek then pounded his chest, and the other barbarian chiefs did the same, their spirit tattoos glowing with their respective colors.

The aura users got into their new armor, picked up the modified Gatling guns, and got into position.

Harlik and the others smiled. The fear was still there, but more than that, they felt pride as their feelings of loyalty soared. It was truly the greatest decision of their lives to follow Lucen.

Seeing everyone’s motivation soar, Lucen shouted. ”Steel yourselves! Let us show these beasts the might of civilization!”