Just as Finn had neutralized the self-destruct device earlier, adventurers across the battlefield would adapt and retaliate. That was the essence of their kind. That was the nature of those called adventurers.
Even the enemy's Arachnia had fallen, miscalculating the existence of their own hidden trump card. And Finn knew, she was not the type to gamble recklessly.
'In other words… does evilus still hold an ace in reserve?'
His thumb throbbed painfully, a subconscious omen. His gaze sharpened toward the south of the city.
"What else are they hiding? What card will they play next?"
Second district.
At the forge lines, the guards braced themselves for another wave. The third assault surged toward them, but when a soldier reached back for his weapon, his hand grasped at empty air.
"Captain Tsubaki!" He cried out, panicked. "The magic swords, they're gone! We've run out again!"
"Then go nag Hephaestus-sama and old Goibniu to hurry up." Tsubaki bellowed without even turning around, her blade flashing as she held the line.
"Don't force me to carve through this with bare steel alone."
The enemy's suicide soldiers charged forward, engines roaring, ready to detonate amidst the adventurers' defenses. Shouts rose as they prepared to immolate themselves in madness.
But before they could crash through, a suffocating black fog erupted across the battlefield, swallowing them whole.
"Guahhh!"
Chaos exploded. The moment the mist touched them, suicide soldiers collapsed in droves. They writhed on the ground, screaming, clawing at their own bodies in agony.
"My eyes! My legs, it's inside me!"
One soldier tore his flesh raw, shrieking as if unseen horrors crawled beneath his skin. Another laughed hysterically until his throat bled. Others dropped to their knees, sobbing, praying, or calling out to loved ones who weren't there. Their formation crumbled instantly.
Only the stronger among them, those with hardened wills or superior strength, remained upright, staring at the fog with pale faces, unsure what horror had descended upon them.
Even then, a few maddened soldiers stumbled into their detonation triggers.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Chain explosions rippled across the frontline. Yet compared to the coordinated suicide rush that should have obliterated their defenses, this chaotic carnage was far easier to withstand.
The fog began to thin. The commander on-site, eyes bloodshot, did not wait for word from Finn.
He slammed his weapon forward and roared, "Attack! Press forward! Strike now, while they're broken!"
His voice ignited the field. The instant he shouted, Tsubaki had already vaulted over the barricades, her blade blazing with killing intent.
Adventurers surged after her like a flood unchained, abandoning defense for a full-frontal counteroffensive.
On the other side of the battlefield, amidst the chaos of the desperately retreating Ganesha Familia, another figure stood out, a warrior who did not belong to them.
The captain of the Hermes Familia, Lidith, had slipped into their ranks. Her long golden hair, usually vibrant and dazzling like the morning sun, was tied into a single ponytail draped across her right shoulder. Now, it was matted with blood, its luster dulled by smoke and ash. Her white combat suit, once spotless, was torn in several places, soaked with fresh crimson.
Even as she stumbled back with the others, her sharp eyes flicked over her shoulder. The enemy was advancing again. Their black tide showed no intention of slowing down.
Her steps halted and her gaze sharpened.
"This is it. I'll use my life here."
The declaration cut through the din of battle.
"Lidith, you—!"
One of the Amazons screamed in shock, reaching for her. But before she could even protest further, a veteran comrade seized her arm, dragging her back against her will. That older warrior gave Lidith nothing but a sorrowful, wordless look as he pulled the Amazon away, leaving her behind.
Alone.
Lidith drew a sharp breath and tore free the remaining explosive devices that Asfi had entrusted her with. Without hesitation, she hurled them into the horde of suicide soldiers pressing forward.
BOOM!BOOM!
A chain of detonations lit the battlefield, consuming swathes of enemies in roaring fire. Her lips curved into a faint smile. There was no fear there, only resolve.
Sword in hand, she charged. Steel clashed, sparks flew, blood spilled. She fought like a raging tempest, carving her path forward with single-minded ferocity. But one against dozens, one blade against four hands, such imbalance could not be sustained forever.
Wounds opened across her body. Blades slashed into her flesh, spears pierced her side. Her vision blurred, her limbs grew heavy. She could feel the blood loss dragging her into weakness.
At some point, she realized her right arm no longer answered her commands, her sword hand gone. Yet her body did not collapse. Her legs carried her forward almost by instinct.
Even with one hand lost, Lidith kept smiling. With her left hand alone, she clutched her magic sword tightly. She no longer intended to simply resist, she was ready to burn away her last breath, dragging these enemies into destruction with her.
But then—
A cold wind swept in.
The battlefield suddenly shifted. Ice and snow descended from the heavens, scattering across the chaos. Shards of frost cut into enemies, freezing them where they stood. The encroaching horde shattered under the storm, their advance halted.
Lidith blinked. Her vision tunneled, the edges darkening. She was on the verge of losing consciousness. Yet before she could collapse entirely, she felt something. Something strange wrapped around her waist. And then, her body vanished from the battlefield.
It wasn't only here. Across Orario, on battlefields where despair had driven heroes to the brink of sacrifice, salvation came.
Civilians buried under rubble were pulled free. Adventurers who had resolved themselves to die found their bodies whisked away from mortal danger. Everywhere, mysterious hands intervened.
"Saint-sama! Another injured person has been rescued!" Shouts of hope echoed through the chaos.
The Order Familia, who had been struggling against the endless flood of enemies, began to fight more fiercely. Their morale surged and with every act of rescue, their enemies' momentum faltered.
But if the heroes grew stronger, then the enemy had no choice but to respond in kind. The two overlords of Evilus finally stepped onto the battlefield.
When the dust cleared, the adventurers cleaning the streets saw him.
A towering man, over two meters tall, loomed into view. His massive frame was clad in armor so heavy it would crush ordinary men, yet he wore it as though it weighed nothing. A great helmet covered his head, with an ominous eye mask concealing everything above the nose. Only the skin around his mouth remained visible, twisted in a cold expression.
The very air shifted as he arrived. His oppressive aura bore down upon the battlefield like a storm, pressing against the hearts of every adventurer present.
Their instincts screamed the truth, this man was no ally.
Before any of them could raise their weapons, a blur of motion streaked past. A flash of light, too fast to follow. A sudden sting tore across their faces.
Peng!
A gale ripped through the streets. The wind was so violent it forced the adventurers to shield their eyes.
And then, agony bloomed in their backs. Darkness closed in on their vision. One by one, they collapsed, their consciousness stolen before they could even cry out.
When silence returned, the street lay in ruin. The ground had been split as though massive claws had gouged it apart. The stone road was torn open, the earth beneath exposed. Houses that had been reduced to charred skeletons by fire now collapsed entirely, leaving behind only blackened splinters. The once-narrow street had been widened into a wasteland of rubble.
"How fragile." The man's deep voice rumbled, reverberating like thunder. It wasn't merely sound, it was pressure, a force that shook the organs of those who heard it.
"When did adventurers become rotten fruit, crumbling at the slightest touch?"
"I only waved lightly. I didn't even use Devour." His voice was filled with contempt. "How disappointing you are to me, Orario."
No one answered him. The silence was suffocating.
"Damn it," another voice growled within. "Killing a bunch of trash isn't enough. Don't dump the extra work on me."
The outburst of irritation was internal, yet Zald let out a crooked, humorless smile.
(End of Chapter)
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