The battlefield burned with chaos. Goblins screamed as wolves were torn apart, the Moonlight Cavalry carved devastation into their lines, and siege towers shook, their bridges slick with blood.
Above it all, a shadow streaked across the sky.
Helios.
The Phoenix soared higher, flames trailing behind him in a river of red and gold. His cry pierced the night, sharp and resonant, shaking the battlefield. Then, with a sudden dive, he circled behind the goblin army.
Flames cascaded from his wings, igniting the ground, cutting off their path of retreat. The goblins froze, terror spreading as they realized they were trapped — the wall before them, the Phoenix behind them.
Garthok's eyes widened, his jaw trembling. His escape was gone. Rage overtook him, greed burning hotter than fear.
"Forward!" he roared, raising his spear. "All troops! Full attack! Claim the wall or die trying!"
The goblin army surged, desperation driving them. Shamans whipped them into frenzy, warriors pressed against the shield, wolves snapped at the defenders.
But the trap had already closed.
Before the goblins reached halfway, the battlefield shook with a deafening roar.
A tiger's roar, deep and primal, reverberated across the domain. Thunder cracked in the sky, lightning arced across the battlefield, illuminating the chaos in blinding flashes.
From atop the city wall, a massive black and blue tiger appeared. Its fur shimmered with stormlight, arcs of electricity dancing across its body. Each step shook the stone, power radiating from its form.
Riding the beast was a tall figure. His muscular build was framed by flowing black hair, whipping in the wind. His eyes glowed — one red, one purple — each radiating different energies. His black battle robes bore the sigil of a phoenix, glowing faintly in the stormlight.
The goblin army froze. Their chants faltered, their weapons lowered. Without doubt, they knew: this was the Human Overlord.
Garthok's heart pounded. His mind raced. If I can land a lucky blow… if I can kill him… the war ends here.
Ambition surged, greed twisting his thoughts. Victory seemed within reach.
But before Garthok could revel in the thought, an eerie laugh echoed across the battlefield.
The sound was chilling, unnatural, crawling into the bones of every goblin.
From the shadows, a creature of nightmares emerged.
Dionysus.
She was massive now, black and white, the size of a horse. Her skull‑patterned body gleamed in the moonlight, her laughter reverberating across the battlefield. She crawled along the wall, her legs tapping against the stone, each movement deliberate, predatory.
The goblin army shuddered. Wolves whimpered, shamans faltered, warriors trembled.
Then Dionysus struck.
Webs shot into the army, thick strands glowing faintly with shadow. They wrapped around enemies by the tens, binding them in sticky cocoons. Screams echoed as goblins were dragged upward, hung from the wall, their bodies squirming and thrashing.
The sight was horrifying. Goblins dangled like grotesque ornaments, their cries drowned by Dionysus's eerie laughter.
Garthok's knees buckled. His spear trembled in his grip. The nightmare spider's presence nearly drove him to collapse.
The battlefield had shifted. The Phoenix blocked retreat, the Storm Tiger roared from the wall, and Dionysus turned the enemy into prey.
The Twilight Lord's power was fully revealed.
The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat as Sam stepped down from the Storm Tiger. His aura blazed, arcs of lightning crawling across his skin, the phoenix sigil on his robes glowing faintly in the stormlight. His eyes — one red, one purple — burned with power, each radiating a different energy that made the air itself tremble.
He raised his head, voice carrying across the battlefield, amplified by the System.
"No survivors."
The words struck like a hammer.
A black and blue bolt of lightning ripped from the sky, tearing through the goblin ranks. Dozens were obliterated in an instant, their bodies reduced to ash and blood.
Dionysus leapt from the wall, her massive spider form crashing into the army. She released a wave of black smoke, thick and suffocating, rolling across the battlefield like a living fog. Goblins screamed, blinded, their senses overwhelmed. Within the smoke, blood pooled on the ground, screams echoed, and the sound of chewing reverberated — a nightmare symphony.
Helios soared overhead, wings blazing. He dove into the goblin ranks, flames cascading from his body. Goblins were incinerated where they stood, reduced to ash. Only beast cores and scraps of loot remained where his fire struck.
Indra roared from the wall, lightning splitting the sky. Arcs of blue energy speared goblins, tearing them apart, their bodies collapsing in charred heaps. His stormlight illuminated the battlefield, every strike a death sentence.
The Twilight troops pressed forward, empowered by Sam's bonds. Their spells and weapons tore through the enemy, forming a meat grinder of steel, fire, and shadow. Wolves collapsed, goblins screamed, shamans faltered.
The three beasts — Helios, Indra, Dionysus — were fully unleashed.
• Helios burned the battlefield, his flames consuming all.
• Indra's storm shattered formations, lightning ripping through goblins.
• Dionysus laughed, her webs binding enemies, hanging them from the wall like grotesque trophies.
The goblin army was annihilated, their advance shattered.
Amid the chaos, Sam leapt from the wall, summoning both Sun and Lunar blades. Their edges glowed, one golden, one silver, radiating power.
He approached Garthok, the Tier 7 Goblin Rider.
Garthok laughed, jagged teeth flashing. "A Tier 6 human dares face me? Fool!"
But before he could strike, Sam vanished.
He reappeared behind Garthok, thrusting both blades. The goblin barely blocked, his spear clashing against the glowing swords. Sparks flew, the impact reverberating.
Shock spread across Garthok's face. Sam's speed was unnatural, his strength overwhelming.
At Tier 6 with three bonds, Sam wielded Tier 8 power.
He pressed the attack, swordsmanship precise, relentless. Lightning spears formed in his hands, striking Garthok from every angle. The goblin staggered, his defenses crumbling.
Sam tormented him, each strike calculated, each blow devastating. Garthok's wolf mount snarled, lunging, but Indra's lightning speared it through, collapsing the beast in a heap of charred flesh.
Finally, Sam struck true. His blades crossed, slicing through Garthok's neck.
The Rider's head rolled into the dirt, his body collapsing.
The Tier 7 was dead.
The battlefield was silent, broken only by the crackle of flames and the hiss of lightning fading into the night. Garthok's head lay in the dirt, his body sprawled lifeless, his wolf mount charred by Indra's storm.
Sam stood tall, blades dripping with blood, his aura blazing. Victory seemed absolute.
Then the air shifted.
Dark energy seeped from the goblin corpses, rising like smoke. It coalesced into a shadowy form, towering above the battlefield. The goblins' bodies twitched, their lifeless eyes glowing faintly as the energy drained from them.
A voice, guttural and venomous, echoed across the domain.
"You dare slaughter my children… my warriors… my blood."
The shadow solidified, revealing a cloaked figure. His eyes glowed crimson, his staff carved from bone and obsidian. His aura radiated malice, heavy and suffocating.
The Tier 8 Goblin Shaman had revealed himself.
"I am Borto, the Great Shaman." His voice thundered, shaking the battlefield. "You will pay for this massacre. I will kill you, burn your domain to ash, and turn your people into ritual sacrifices."
His words dripped with hatred, his curse echoing across the battlefield.
Sam's grip tightened on his blades, his eyes narrowing. He felt the weight of Borto's power, the promise of vengeance.
But before he could strike, the Shaman vanished into shadow, his laughter lingering in the air.
The battlefield was quiet again. Goblin corpses littered the ground, ash and blood staining the soil. Wolves lay broken, siege towers smoldered, shamans silenced.
The Twilight troops stood victorious, their weapons dripping, their armor scorched but unbroken. The shield still shimmered faintly, its glow casting eerie light across the carnage.
Helios circled overhead, flames trailing behind him. Indra prowled the wall, lightning sparking across his fur. Dionysus crawled along the stone, her laughter fading into silence.
Sam stood at the center, blades lowered, his aura dimming. He looked out across the battlefield, savoring the victory.
But his mind lingered on Borto's words.
The Great Shaman had sworn vengeance. He had promised destruction, ritual sacrifice, fire and blood.
Sam exhaled, steady but troubled. The battle was won, but the war was far from over.
The Twilight Domain had survived the siege. But in the shadows, a greater threat loomed.