Meanwhile, several kilometers away from the city, a unit of soldiers galloped at full speed toward the besieged stronghold. Smoke rose ominously on the horizon, but there was something else in the air, something dark and malevolent. The man leading the charge, his military haircut stark against the wind, glanced to his right where a figure in golden robes rode alongside him, clutching a scepter.

“Cardinal,” the man said, his voice tense. “Do you feel that?”

The cardinal’s face twisted with disgust, his brows furrowing deeply. “Yes. I can sense it. Soul magic. It’s far worse than we imagined. Push the horses harder, men! We’re almost there!”

The horses responded to the command, their pace quickening. The city walls were just minutes away now. But they weren’t the only reinforcements. From all directions, soldiers, mercenaries, and mages moved toward the city—some on foot, others soaring through the sky on magical mounts or wings of their own conjuring. The cavalry was almost upon the city, ready to strike back against the monstrous horde.

…

Outside the city gates, the battle raged between the towering bonsai tree and the ferocious gorilla. The tree’s roots had anchored themselves deep into the earth, creating a formidable barrier that separated the beasts already inside the city from the horde outside. Every time the gorilla tried to land a blow, the tree retaliated, whipping its massive branches like flails, sending smaller monsters flying through the air. Only a few creatures managed to scale the roots and bypass the tree’s defenses.

The gorilla, frustrated by its inability to deal any significant damage, pounded the ground in a rage. Its water-based attacks were absorbed by the tree, which seemed to grow stronger with every hit. Its physical strength was useless too. No matter how hard the gorilla struck, the tree remained unmoved. The only small mercy was that the tree couldn’t attack as long as the gorilla kept its distance.

The gorilla's eyes narrowed as it surveyed the battlefield. It spotted the fire stallion locked in combat with the city’s guardian, Faust. A wicked idea formed in its mind, and with a thunderous roar, the gorilla charged toward the city walls. With one enormous leap, it landed in the heart of the fight between Faust and the stallion.

Faust’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the hulking creature land. His worst fears had come true. Moments ago, he had held the upper hand against the fire stallion, his water magic keeping the beast at bay. But now, with the gorilla joining the fray, the tide of battle had shifted. The two monsters were working together to overwhelm him.

The gorilla grappled Faust, pinning him down and preventing him from using his magic. With its massive arms wrapped around him, Faust could barely breathe, let alone fight back. The fire stallion took advantage of the situation, abandoning the fight with Faust and charging toward the enormous bonsai tree. As it ran, flames gathered in its mouth, and it unleashed a torrent of fiery attacks on the tree.

The bonsai, once thought to be immovable, began to writhe in agony. Its roots tore free from the ground, and it started dragging itself toward the city gate, determined to block the monsters’ entry. But the stallion was relentless, circling the tree and blasting it with fire from all sides. In mere minutes, the tree’s leaves had been reduced to ash, and only its charred trunk remained.

Desperate, the tree coiled its roots one final time, positioning itself directly in front of the gate. A thick layer of earth formed over its scorched bark, hardening into an impenetrable shell. No matter how hard the stallion attacked, its flames couldn’t break through. The gate was sealed—at least for now.

The stallion, realizing its efforts were futile, turned its fiery gaze toward the city’s barrier. With a thunderous roar, it unleashed a barrage of fiery blasts at the protective shield. The defenders on the walls launched counterattacks, but the stallion was too fast, dodging their strikes with ease. With each hit, cracks began to form in the barrier, and panic spread among the defenders.

Just when it seemed all hope was lost, a lone figure appeared in the sky, riding atop a mighty griffin. The defenders’ initial excitement quickly faded as they realized it was only one man. How could a single person make a difference?

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But as the man drew closer, something extraordinary happened. He pulled out a staff—one without a blade. In an instant, a massive sword of ice materialized, shimmering with cold energy. He raised the blade high into the sky, and the air around him grew frigid. No one knew what he was about to do, but all eyes were on him.

Suddenly, hundreds of ice swords appeared around him, suspended in the air like a deadly constellation. The number grew exponentially until thousands of blades hovered above the battlefield, glittering in the sunlight.

The defenders held their breath.

With a swift motion, the man on the griffin swung his ice sword forward. The frozen blades shot through the air like arrows, descending upon the horde of beasts. The stallion was struck, though it dodged many of the swords. The other monsters were not so fortunate—thousands of them were impaled by the ice blades, their bodies freezing solid before shattering into pieces.

Enraged, the stallion turned its full fury on the man and his griffin, launching fiery attacks in rapid succession. But the man met each blow with his sword, deflecting the flames as though they were nothing. His ice blade never melted.

Just as the stallion prepared to unleash a final, devastating attack, over 100 riders stormed onto the battlefield. Leading the charge was the military-cut man and the golden-robed priest. The riders plunged into the horde, cutting down monsters left and right with practiced precision.

The priest, however, had another mission. He broke away from the riders and flew over the city walls, his magic carrying him into the heart of the city.

The defenders on the walls erupted in cheers. Could this be the turning point? Could they finally be saved?

But their jubilation was short-lived.

Without warning, the ground beneath the city trembled violently. A deafening rumble filled the air, and with horror, the defenders watched as the dome in the center of the city—their last line of defense—began to collapse.

Terror gripped the hearts of every man and woman on the city walls, as they watched in horror without the possibility of doing anything about it.

…

A few minutes earlier, in the heart of the city...

Emma and the others were busy setting up defensive lines, preparing for what felt like the inevitable breach of their last defenses. The air was tense, filled with the urgency of battle. The golden-robed priest had taken charge of the wounded, using his magic to heal and fortify the injured fighters. It seemed, for a brief moment, as if things were running smoothly. But the tranquility was deceptive.

The priest, now seated on the ground to catch his breath, suddenly felt a strange sensation—a vibration that ran through the earth itself. His brow furrowed, and he pressed his ear to the ground, straining to listen. The murmur was faint, almost imperceptible. Then, with growing horror, realization dawned on him.

“Hear me!” he shouted. “Everyone, stop! Stay where you are and do not move!”

The defenders exchanged confused glances but obeyed, trusting the priest’s judgment. An eerie silence fell over the battlefield as they froze in place, the only sound now being the faint hum from the earth beneath their feet.

The priest placed his head fully on the ground, listening intently. His face paled. “They’re beneath us!” he screamed, leaping to his feet. “The monsters are tunneling underground!”

But his warning came too late. With a deafening roar, the ground erupted as a massive mole-like creature, easily the size of a house, burst forth, tearing open a cavernous hole in the earth. From the tunnel it had carved, an army of smaller beasts began to pour out, clawing their way to the surface.

Worse still, the city’s foundations were beginning to crumble. As the mole had been tunneling beneath the city, it had destabilized the very earth upon which it stood. Buildings began to collapse one by one, sinking into the ground as if swallowed by the earth itself. The streets quaked violently, and with each tremor, more homes and structures fell into ruin.

Emma’s heart dropped. Her eyes widened in terror as she watched, helplessly, as the very foundation of the city began to give way. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The dome—the massive stone structure protecting the thousands of civilians huddled inside—was beginning to sink into the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed along its surface, and a sickening creak filled the air. It was only a matter of moments before it collapsed entirely, crushing everyone inside beneath its immense weight.

Desperation clawed at her. Emma turned to the priest, her voice frantic. “We need to get to the dome! If it collapses—”

But before they could move, the enormous mole reared up, blocking their path. Its immense bulk towered over them, its beady red eyes gleaming with malice. A wave of crushing magical pressure emanated from the beast, pressing down on Emma and the defenders like a physical weight. Emma’s stomach churned as she realized what they were up against.

“A Rank 7 beast…” she whispered, dread filling her voice.

The beast roared, shaking the earth beneath their feet once more. Emma's mind raced. She knew they had no chance of defeating something this powerful, not with the resources they had left. And the dome—the last line of defense for the city’s civilians—was moments from total collapse. Her thoughts spun in frantic circles, each one more desperate than the last.

A surge of despair overwhelmed her. In the face of such overwhelming odds, she did the only thing she could. She threw her head back and screamed, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

“Someone! Please! Help us!”