The sky was almost midnight, and it seemed to be wrapped in a cloak of darkness, with only the occasional full moon visible through the clouds.

The air was cold, and there was a constant breeze. This night was already enough to be unpleasant, but now if we add the wind, it feels even worse.

Under the black veil and within the improvised camp, the atmosphere was tense, but at least the sturdy walls provided some relief, although even a little more security.

In this world, the term “mercenary” encompasses all men and women hired to risk their lives for money, but within this group there are a great variety of individuals.

In this society, your birth position is the same as the one in which you will die. Only a few lucky ones can break their chains of birth to aspire to something more, and a good way to do so is to become a mercenary.

It doesn’t matter how hard you try or how much you try to be better; a commoner will never be as strong nor have the stats as high as a noble, whose jealousy guards their inherited bloodlines from the first emperor of the empire and rarely achieves a position of prestige or power high enough to be recognized.

Between this group of lowly-born people are two groups of adventurers and many young mercenaries: they are young and brave, eager to acquire experience and gold in their first forays. They wore leather armor of poor quality and modest weapons, but that didn’t stop them from getting ready as best they could.

On the other hand, there were veteran and better equipped mercenaries dedicated mainly to escorting traders and defending or exterminating monsters at the request of the nobles.

These veteran mercenaries showed a more serene appearance, but deep down, they knew that their situation was no better than that of the newcomers.

At first, when they received the news, they thanked the gods for having the fortune to be in one of the nearby villages to accept the call of a noble.

But the filtered information about the real reason for their hiring had left them uneasy, and they were debating whether to leave the area immediately.

If the lord of these lands was afraid enough to hire so many men and offer such good pay, then things could be worse than everyone expected when they accepted the job.

However, it is always difficult to let go of the opportunity to fill their pockets with gold and get the paid for months of work in just a few days.

And it’s not like they can just leave easily and drop the job for which they have already been paid half. They would probably have to face and fight with the guards, knights, and even other mercenaries if they tried to leave the gardens.

Returning the money was not an option; offending a noble, and more specifically, the Lord of the land where they are, is, in fact, a suicidal act.

In short, all were trapped inside these walls. What now served not only as shelter but also as prison for everyone of them.

Next to a fire and sharpening an old sword, a young man of about nineteen years with a sturdy build, light chestnut hair, and a height of 5'11" was immersed in his work.

Although his weapon was not of great quality, it was in perfect condition thanks to his constant care and dedication.

"Eadric, if you keep honing your sword like that, you'll break it."

A man joked with one of his companions as he approached, drinking a jug of beer. This is a young man of almost the same age with dark blonde hair, a slim build, and a height of 5'8".

Eadric accepted the jar, gave a smile to his companion, and then, after looking at its interior and smelling it carefully, drank it in one gulp.

He would never be so naive again to drink something without looking, that’s what he swore to himself after experiencing a very unpleasant “joke” on his first days as a mercenary.

In the distance, he could hear how everyone made idle chats to try to distract themselves from the possible dangers that awaited them.

In the case of Eadric, performing repetitive tasks over and over again helped him to distract himself in times of crisis and face better stress.

"And you’re still doing that? Holy God, man, that sword is so sharp, I think you could shave your balls with it."

Eadric only sighed.

"I'm not stupid enough to break it, Matze, I just want it so sharp that I can cut whatever comes out of the forest."

He looked at his companion while showing him his sword, proud of his work.

"How could I look at my parents and brothers in the other world if they find out I died because my sword wasn’t sharp enough?"

A nostalgic and sad smile crossed Eadric’s face.

"The leaders are very nervous, and I think things will get ugly at any moment. You should also prepare yourself as best you can, Matze."

His face became more serious as he wiped the sweat from his hands on his pants.

"You know, I can’t sharpen my staff either—well, at least without the help of a beautiful and willing lady."

To lighten the atmosphere and without losing the smile on his face, Matze replied that he couldn’t waste the opportunity to annoy his friend either.

His main weapon is a nogal stick that he uses as a magic catalyst. With an incredible affinity of 29% for wind, Matze is a very talented mage. This level of affinity is extremely high for anyone born into a common lineage. Even it could be considered a genius. That’s why they put him in the support group, formed mainly by mages and archers.

Commoner mages rarely take the lead, since they practically do not learn skills through scrolls, they are very slow to cast spells.

Eadric just sighed and shook his head at his friend's words.

"You're still as shameless as ever; I don't know why I bother being polite with you if I know that you will always come out with some stupid obscenity."

He finished laughing while sheathing his sword.

Despite having a much more serious personality, Eadric also did not lag behind because he has great skill as a swordsman and his mana reserves are very high for a non-magical user.

It is so unusual and talented that he could even surpass the leader of the mercenary group in just two years if he works hard enough and trains without rest, obviously.

Both he and Matze joined the Wandering Wardens mercenary company months ago.

Being the two newbies, they quickly became good friends despite having personalities so different and almost opposite roles on the battlefield.

"After this job, I can buy myself a scroll of wind blade, and then I’ll be the greatest and most powerful mage born in my village."

Matze laughed as he imagined how his parents and brothers would look at him when he returned as an experienced mage.

Eadric couldn’t help but feel a little envy, even so, and from the heart he was happy for his friend.

Everything was interrupted by the sudden sound of the bells. A sudden chill ran down his spine. Ringing the bells in the middle of the night could only mean one thing: they were under attack.

The air filled with tension when the leaders of the different mercenary groups began to shout orders.

Mercenaries ran hurriedly to collect their equipment or adjust their armors.

Discipline and coordination are impossible in such a varied group, plus most are just low-rank mercenaries that normally wouldn't be hired to guard a noble's residence.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

There is no confidence between the different groups. All act on their own and take the positions that they consider opportune to defend the walls and, above all, protect their own lives.

Eadric’s heart beat hard as he prepared for combat. He looked around and saw Matze running to the support group to take positions.

He didn’t lag behind, and quickly, as he had trained dozens of times, he passed into the vanguard without wasting time.

As soon as he took his position, a deafening roar echoed in the distance, filling the air with hostility and murderous intentions.

The sound was terrifying, it seemed like dozens of wild beasts joined a chorus of despair and agony while being butchered without mercy.

The roar made Eadric's blood freeze in his veins, he couldn’t hold himself up on his knees and ended up falling to the ground, his ears bleeding.

He did everything possible not to faint, fear in his heart was overwhelming, and he felt like he was going to die. It's like dying is the best option right now.

His mind worked at full speed, trying to remember what kind of monstrosity could make such a devastating roar.

His face at the moment could not reflect more than panic, but he had enough mental strength to look around and see how everyone covered their ears, most even even fell to the ground, cried, peed, and screamed in terror.

The experienced warriors barely managed to keep their composure, their legs trembled and their teeth chattered, but they managed to stay on their feet.

"This was terribly bad; Such a growl imbued with murderous intent must be some kind of large-scale mental attack."

The leader of the Wandering Wardens, Gideon made a cut in his hand and then slapped his face hard three times.

"Very few monsters are capable of doing something like that, and all are incredibly strong. At best, we will have to fight for our lives."

Looking with regret at his men, however, the deed is done, and now there is only room to fight for their lives.

Face an S-class monster is literally a death sentence. There is no way that, with the help of some newbies, poorly trained guards, and the few knights here present, they can defeat an abomination capable of such a thing.

"At the first opportunity and without caring about risking our reputation, we must flee like rabbits."

Without giving them time to retake their positions and recover from the mental attack, Gideon was interrupted when one of the walls simply exploded, launching chunks of rock at incredible speed as if they were stone projectiles.

The pieces of wall hit and tore the bodies of those who were in the wrong place and at the wrong time.

From the terrifying cloud of dust and blood mist emerged a formidable and terrible monster. All of his body was covered by an exoskeleton of plates that seemed to be black obsidian.

The creature had a grotesque and twisted appearance, it looked like something taken from the darkest tales of hell itself.

Its shape resembled that of a monstrous spider, with ten huge but thin and deformed legs, It was like a representation of what one could find in a nightmare. Unfortunately for them, this was not a dream or illusion.

The metal plates covering its body reflected the weak light of the moon, but the light was distorted by some type of crystal, creating a supernatural play of lights and shadows.

Where it should be its head, a black sphere and a single eye were observed with terrifying malevolence.

It was such an evil and perverse eye that those who had the bad luck to look directly at it immediately fainted as if their souls had been sucked out of their bodies alive, killing them instantly.

"Don't look them in the eye! This thing can kill you just by looking at it."

Gideon shouted with all his might to try to alert all his mens about.

After observing the humans for a couple of seconds, one of the legs of the creature bent at an unnatural angle, almost like its joints were mere cosmetic ornaments.

Before they had time to react, a sonic boom deafened all those present to witness the mutilated bodies, blood, and flesh flying through the air of guards and mercenaries alike.

One of the strongest and most experienced knights, using all his strength, letting out his battle cry, and wielding his sword, tried to attack the creature.

"If I'm going to see the gods, then at least before I cut your eye, abomination!"

They were his last words, before the metallic sound of the sword bouncing off the creature's eye was immediately drowned out by the sonic boom it produced as one of its legs extended and turned the brave warrior into a pulp of blood and flesh.

Some mercenaries were hit by metal armor fragments and pieces of bone that were now embedded in all parts of their bodies. The scene was even more terrifying, accompanied by their agonizing screams.

Chaos was absolute; all present understood in that moment. They had to run, and only a few brave magicians and archers launched magic attacks and arrows to gain some time, unfortunately, that did not seem to affect the creature in the slightest.

"Eadric, go and escort the support group; You have to retreat as soon as possible; That monster... no, that abomination is a natural disaster, it's something we can't fight against."

With a serious look, Gideon gave him the order, and without waiting for an answer, he prepared for the battle.

"An abomination like this is beyond the reach of humans; There is nothing we can do against such a thing."

He couldn't allow young people to face that; they would simply waste their lives. But his sense of honor and responsibility as a leader does not allow him to flee from this fight.

Reluctantly, Eadric squeezed his hands so hard that, if it weren't for his gloves, his own nails would have torn his flesh. All the muscles of his body tensed, and without looking back, he ran towards where the support group was.

"I'll see you later, boss..."

The other mercenaries looked at the ground or closed their eyes, then retreated with Eadric, running as fast as they could to the support group.

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Inside the luxurious corridors of his residence, Duncan crawled on the floor, unable to get up after the initial roar of the monster. The scene that was taking place around him was simply horrific.

His servants were scattered on the ground, some seemed unconscious, others were twitching and screaming while convulsing, and others apparently had already died.

Duncan's heart filled with anxiety and despair as he saw the chaos that had been unleashed in what always been his quiet home.

While dragging his body, Duncan could only wish from the depths of his heart that his family had better luck and managed to survive the mental attack of that monster.

He knew there was no time to waste. They had to flee immediately and seek refuge in the underground tunnels that extended under their residence. The guards and mercenaries couldn't give them much more time.

In the distance, horrible screams and terrifying explosions echoed against the walls, reminding Duncan of the magnitude of the creature that had hit them.

Whatever that creature was, it was undoubtedly an unprecedented destructive force. As far as he knew, no S-class registered monster was capable of unleashing such destructive power.

He bled from his knees while crawling, but Duncan struggled to reach the refuge where his family should be guarded by a knight.

Hope and fear tormented his mind as he fought to keep moving forward. He knew the fate of his lineage was at stake.

Just when he was about to arrive at the refuge, everything went black for him.

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The fury that the creature unleashed seemed to extend for an eternity, although in reality it only lasted a couple of minutes.

Minutes that were engraved in the memory of all those present who had the good fortune to still have their lives as like they had been burned with hot metal in their souls.

In that short time lapse, the abomination thirsty for death and destruction ravaged everything at its passage, turning humans nearby into scattered pieces and blood stains.

The air was filled with a strong metallic smell.

Once it apparently sated its thirst for blood and was satisfied with the massacre carried out, the creature directed its gaze towards the residence of the lord of these lands.

An overwhelming demonic energy seemed to emanate from his monstrous eye, as if this were the epicenter of a tornado of darkness, but little by little, that energy seemed to stabilize and take shape.

The demonic energy began to collapse into a concentrated sphere of pure evil, a tangible manifestation of absolute sinfulness, just a small sample of what a monster can do from the bowels of hell.

The sphere shone with a sinister intensity, radiating a malignant aura that seemed to darken and corrupt even the air around it. Around the sphere, could see how even light seemed to flee from it, crossing to avoid it.

With a calm that contradicted its appearance, the creature moved serenely, as if it were strolling through a peaceful field on a sunny day where the remains of corpses should take the place of beautiful flowers.

It didn't seem to give much importance to what was about to unleash, because something like this it seems not to be different than a simple yawn in a quiet morning for a being like this.

Finally, as if he had gotten bored waiting, he launched his attack.

In a fraction of a second, everything in front of him simply disappeared, the hurricane winds at high temperatures sent the few survivors flying far away while those who was the bad luck to be closer were boiled alive.

Where once stood the residence of the lord of these lands, there is now only an incandescent trail of molten rocks.

Neither the thousands of trees in the forest nor even the mountain range hundreds of miles away could compete with the beam of death and destruction.

Now a large hole in one of the mountains is a permanent part of the landscape, witnessing to the world the birth of a new calamity.