A horde of golems loomed before Havard, their forms casting imposing shadows under the flickering orange glow of the lava pits.
Their sheer numbers were overwhelming, a tide of stone and molten fury.
But Havard was undeterred.
Strongest hunter, Guildmaster of Lionheart.
Among many names he held the name– Crimson berserker.
That was because of his class Berserker.
He stepped forward, his massive sword in hand, before tossing it aside without hesitation.
It clanged loudly against the scorched ground.
His weapon wasn’t necessary.
If he had wanted to give it all, his fist were better.
His body tensed, muscles rippling under the oppressive heat of the battlefield.
The crimson aura surrounding him thickened, swirling like a living entity eager to unleash chaos.
With a feral roar, he charged at the oncoming wave of lava golems, fists raised.
The first golem swung a molten arm at him, the air sizzling from the heat.
Havard didn’t flinch.
His massive hand caught the arm mid-swing, and with a burst of strength, he shattered it into fragments of glowing rock.
Another golem lunged, aiming for his back.
Havard spun around, his fist colliding with the golem’s chest.
The impact sent it flying backward, crashing into a cluster of its allies.
Each of his punches landed with the force of a sledgehammer, reducing the lava golems to rubble.
Their molten cores dimmed, extinguished under his relentless assault.
But for every golem he destroyed, more emerged from the lava pits, their bodies glowing with fresh magma.
The tide of battle shifted.
The golems, seemingly adapting to his strategy, stopped engaging him head-on.
Instead, they spread out, bypassing him and charging toward the hunters behind.
“Get back here!” Havard roared, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos.
He turned to pursue them, but his path was blocked by the lumbering form of the giant lava golem—Magra.
The massive creature towered over Havard, its body a living furnace of molten rock.
Streams of lava coursed through the cracks in its obsidian skin, and its glowing eyes locked onto Havard with malevolent intent.
Magra’s arm, thick and jagged, swung down like a falling meteor.
Havard raised his arms to block, the impact shaking the ground beneath him.
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He grunted, his boots sinking into the molten earth, but he didn’t fall.
With a roar, he retaliated, driving his fist into Magra’s chest.
The blow sent a shockwave rippling outward, and shards of molten rock sprayed into the air.
Yet Magra barely staggered. Its body glowed brighter as the cracks sealed themselves, repairing the damage almost instantly.
“You’re tougher than the rest,” Havard muttered, his teeth bared in a feral grin.
Magra attacked again, this time sweeping its massive arm across the battlefield.
Havard ducked, the molten limb whizzing over his head, and countered with a punch aimed at Magra’s knee.
The joint cracked, forcing the giant to kneel.
But before Havard could press his advantage, other golems swarmed him.
They didn’t aim to kill but to stall, grappling onto him and forcing him to fend them off.
He crushed their limbs and cores with ease, but the distraction gave Magra enough time to rise again.
Behind him, the other hunters struggled against the relentless waves of golems.
The lava golems from the front exuded unbearable heat, their mere presence draining the hunters’ strength.
From the left and right, stone and clay golems pressed in, their reinforced bodies shrugging off weaker blows.
From the rear, more golems encircled the group, cutting off any chance of retreat.
“Stay together!” one of the hunters shouted, but their formation was breaking under the pressure.
Some hunters collapsed, unable to withstand the suffocating heat.
Others fought valiantly but were overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
Havard’s fury only grew as he saw his comrades fall one by one.
He tried to turn back, to shield them, but Magra was relentless.
The giant lava golem swung both arms down in a hammer-like motion, forcing Havard to block.
The ground beneath him cracked and gave way, but he stood firm, his red aura flaring brighter.
“Get out of my way!!” Havard snarled, his voice a mixture of rage and desperation.
He surged forward, his fists a blur as they pounded into Magra’s chest and shoulders.
The lava golem staggered under the assault, chunks of its body flying off with each blow.
But even as it seemed Havard was gaining the upper hand, the surrounding golems intervened.
They swarmed him, their combined weight forcing him to his knees.
Magra took advantage of the moment, its molten hand swinging down and slamming into Havard’s back.
Havard roared in pain but didn’t fall.
His aura flared violently, burning away the lesser golems clinging to him.
He rose to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes blazing with unyielding determination.
The battle raged on, but the toll was evident.
Havard’s body bore burns and bruises, his aura flickering like a candle in the wind.
He could barely hear the screams of the hunters behind him over the sound of Magra’s guttural roars and the crashing of molten fists.
It felt as though the trap had been laid specifically for him, exploiting his strength and isolating him from those he sought to protect.
And while the battle wasn’t over, the outcome seemed grim.
The hunters’ numbers had dwindled.
Their cries of pain and determination echoed through the battlefield, but their strength was fading.
Havard stood amidst the carnage, battered but unbroken, glaring at Magra with defiance.
"If this is the end,” he growled, cracking his knuckles, “then I’ll make sure you all go down with me.”
And with that, he charged once more, his fists blazing red, ready to fight until his last breath.
------
The battlefield stretched before me, a wasteland of shattered stone and scorched earth.
My army of golems stood victorious, their rocky forms stained with the remnants of their enemies.
The hunters had resisted valiantly, but their numbers had dwindled, their strength extinguished.
Even those four hunters couldn’t turn the tide.
It was over—at least in this area.
As the last hunter fell, I turned my attention elsewhere.
The horned moles, my messengers beneath the ground, scurried through their tunnels, relaying information.
They reported poison spreading in Magal's domain.
I sent a detachment of golems to assist him, though I doubted he needed the aid.
Sure enough, word soon came of his triumph.
The chimera ants had suffered heavy losses especially Magal, himself was badly injured, but they had prevailed.
With our victories secured, my forces and I marched toward the domain of the lava golems.
As we arrived, the sight before me made me pause.
One man. Just one man.
He stood alone amidst a sea of shattered golems, their limbs and cores strewn across the battlefield.
The ground was littered with molten fragments and rubble, the air heavy with the stench of scorched stone and charred flesh.
His body was cloaked in a brilliant red aura, flickering like a wildfire that refused to be extinguished.
His armor was gone, melted away under the intense heat.
His bare chest was exposed, a tapestry of burns, scars, and bruises.
Blood trickled down his sides, mixing with the ash that coated his skin.
And yet, he stood.
His fists, battered and bloodied, clenched tightly.
His breaths came in ragged gasps, but his eyes burned with defiance.
Around him lay the remains of countless golems—more than I had anticipated.
Even Magra, my indomitable giant lava golem, bore significant damage.
Its once-imposing form was riddled with cracks, molten liquid seeping from its wounds.
This human had done all of this.
Havard.
The Crimson Berserker.
The strongest hunter.
The Guildmaster of Lionheart.
And even now, battered and broken, he continued to fight.
His fists struck with the force of a battering ram, crushing golems into rubble.
He moved with a ferocity that defied his condition, his red aura blazing brighter with every swing.
I stepped forward, my wings folding behind me as I descended to the battlefield.
"Stop!" I commanded, my voice reverberating across the battlefield.
The golems froze in place, confused but obedient.
It was pointless to waste more of them.
This hunter had already cost me far too much.
Havard froze mid-swing, his piercing gaze snapping to me.
His breath came in ragged gasps, yet his eyes burned with the same unyielding fire as his aura.
"So," he rasped, his voice hoarse yet steady, "you finally decided to show yourself."
I took a moment to study him.
His body was on the verge of collapse, his injuries severe.
And yet, the sheer determination in his eyes sent a shiver through me.
He knew he couldn’t win.
His body was screaming for rest.
But still, he stood there, unyielding.
"Let’s finish this," he said, straightening himself as much as his battered form allowed.
His voice carried a confidence that defied all logic.
I couldn’t help but respect him.
For all his wounds, all his suffering, he stood like an indomitable mountain.
But even the mightiest mountain can be brought low.
"Very well," I said, stepping closer, my black aura unfurling around me like a storm. "I’ll grant you the end you seek."
The ground trembled beneath our feet as our auras collided, signaling the final clash.
The battlefield fell silent, every remaining golem and insect watching as the Crimson Berserker faced the master of the golems.