I deftly parried the obsidian-black sword aimed at my neck, creating a momentary breach in my foe's defenses. Seizing the opportunity, I gracefully stepped back, countering with a swift swing of my own blade towards his exposed throat.

The glimmering white steel of my sword barely grazed the ominous black horns jutting from his forehead as he deftly evaded my attack by squatting down, his movements as fluid as a shadow. Harnessing the momentum, he sprang at me once more, his sword aimed to pierce my chest like a deadly spring, but I was no stranger to such deadly moves.

My battle-honed instincts kicked in, and I surrendered myself to their guidance. My body moved with uncanny swiftness, a blur too swift for eyes to track, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike.

"Enough of your games," the demon before me spat out in frustration, his anger palpable. "Stop toying with me and fight seriously! Or do you believe I'm not even worth your effort?"

His taunts fell on deaf ears. Frankly, what he said was true. He held the second-highest rank in the demon army that currently laid siege to 'Zandra,' but I couldn't muster enough concern to remember his name.

We had crossed paths for the first time just a week ago, and our initial encounter had ended with me soundly defeating him. The subsequent skirmish a few days later was more of a casual sparring session than a true battle. And this third bout felt like a child's squabble rather than a clash of bloodthirsty foes.

"Or are you afraid that 'that' monster will come out if you do something to me?" he mocked. It was a refrain I had grown tired of, a line I'd heard at least a thousand times before.

‘Just a little bit won't hurt him,’ I thought and with deliberate precision, I aimed my sword directly at him. Its blade caught the radiant crimson light of the setting sun, casting an ethereal glow upon its surface. As I infused it with a trace of mana, a sense of weightlessness washed over me.

"I suppose I can humor your request," I said softly. In an instant, my body sprang into action. In the blink of an eye, I appeared at his side, my body moving with uncanny speed and grace, an embodiment of lethal precision.

My aura radiated a menacing bloodlust, thickening the air and making it difficult for him to breathe. I raised my right hand, the sword gleaming with a sinister allure, and brought it down in a swift, unrelenting arc. He struggled to react, hastily lifting his own sword in a desperate attempt to counter my assault. However, the hastily raised blade proved inadequate, unable to withstand the overwhelming force of my strike. It spun out of his trembling hands and clattered to the ground, leaving him defenseless and utterly defeated.

Fear was etched across his face, but I had no intention of relenting. Gathering mana around my left fist, I delivered a precise punch to his gut. He was sent sprawling backward, like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. As he clung to consciousness, his gaze remained fixed on me, staring daggers through me.

Slowly, deliberately, I approached him. Those locked in combat around us, both humans and monsters alike, instinctively moved away, creating a bubble of space around us. Kneeling beside his fallen form, I cradled his face in my hands.

In a condescending tone, I spoke, "Send my regards to your commander. We will cross paths on this battlefield soon and I daresay, you should eagerly anticipate that day."

Rising to my feet, I shifted my gaze toward the horizon, where the sun had nearly set, signaling the end of the day's battle. I began walking toward the cliff ahead of me, paying no heed to the sobbing voice behind me.

"You will regret letting me live today," a small and miserable voice echoed in my ears, but I continued on my path without a backward glance.

"Yeah, sure, sure," I replied dismissively. It was never something I had ever worried about.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the battlefield fell silent. Soldiers from both sides worked tirelessly, transporting their injured comrades back to their respective camps. The scene was a morbid tableau of everyone drenched in the multicolored blood of their fallen foes. But over time, this brutal sight had lost its power to shock or disturb me. Instead, I found myself pondering the curious question of why each different type of monster seemed to possess blood of a distinct color.

By the time I reached the Commander's encampment, the darkness of night had firmly taken hold. People scurried to and fro from the entrance, their expressions etched with deep concern. Approaching it, I was met with a cacophony of heated discussions, their voices growing increasingly clearer as I drew near.

Pushing aside the cloth that served as a makeshift door, I entered the heart of the tumultuous scene. Commander Amanel Grest sat with his head cradled in his hands, eyes closed in sheer exhaustion. Around him, the heads of various departments engaged in a frenzied exchange of words. Their voices blended into an incoherent symphony of chaos, rendering it nearly impossible to discern a single coherent sentence. Such scenes had become a distressing routine in these trying times.

As if he had concluded his contemplation, Amanel slammed his fist onto the round table. The room, previously abuzz with frantic chatter, instantly fell into an eerie silence.

"Sit down," he commanded, and the individuals who had been standing hastened to find their seats.

"It includes you too, Ellen," he added, his gaze fixed on me. I promptly occupied the vacant seat before me, removing my helm and placing it beside me. My platinum blonde hair cascaded down, liberated after a day of confinement.

Amanel's penetrating stare lingered on me for a few moments. His weathered visage, marked by scars, and his fiery red hair lent him an imposing presence. Finally, he sighed heavily and spoke, "The forest races are departing tonight."

"What!" I couldn't help but blurt out. The healers and logistics personnel of the army were predominantly comprised of druids, elves, and other forest-dwelling races. Their departure was tantamount to the army losing its core and its spirit.

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In my alarm, I turned my gaze toward Alta, the blonde elf seated next to me. She swiftly averted her eyes, casting them downward, a telling indication of the gravity of the situation.

"We have decided to accept the proposal of the Holy Kingdom," Amanel continued, his voice resolute. "As everyone knows, the forest races and the Holy Kingdom are not on the best of terms. Thus, as a condition for joining the crusade, they demanded that all the forest races withdraw."

"But the forest races are already contributing so much," I protested, rising from my seat in haste. "The elves excel in scouting and reconnaissance. The druids tirelessly tend to the wounded day in and day out. Even the Dwarves..."

"Ellen!" Amanel's voice carried an authoritative edge, silencing my objections. "Yes, they are contributing, but none of them are actually on the frontlines fighting. We need soldiers who can swiftly dismantle the enemy forces before us. And let's not forget that, despite your formidable strength, your presence here is solely motivated by financial gain."

His words left me without a valid retort. I was, indeed, a hired mercenary, here to earn my keep. I had no right to influence or question the decisions made by those in command. I stood there in silence, meeting his gaze with resignation.

"I also heard that you nearly killed Asoth," Amanel stated, his voice measured.

"Asoth, who?" I inquired, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not quite placing it.

"The second in command of the demon army," Alta whispered from beside me. She had returned to her composed demeanor as if the topic of departure had never happened.

"Oh, him," I recalled with a wry smile. "I merely gave him what he sought—a lesson. I didn't inflict any life-threatening injuries, not even a broken bone. In the end, he still dared to talk back to me." Despite my rationalization, my palms began to sweat.

Upon hearing my words, everyone around the table turned their intense gazes upon me, and a fair portion of them wore expressions of sheer horror.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Amanel interjected, his tone final. "Get a good night's rest. The Holy Army is set to arrive tomorrow evening, and we must keep the demon army occupied until then. Thus the central command has decided to pit you against 'Black Spear.' You may go now."

At Amanel's words, I retrieved my helmet, turned on my heel, and began making my exit from the tent.

"Ellen," Amanel's voice called out once more, as if he couldn't let me go without a final word. "You're here to buy time, not to risk your life. Don't do anything reckless tomorrow. Just hold on until the reinforcements arrive. And stop making that face."

"What face?" I replied with a light-hearted tone.

"The one you're making right now," he pointed out. Slowly, I moved my free hand to my face, feeling my lips, which had unconsciously curved up a little, and sensing the glint in my eyes. It was fortunate that I had my back turned toward the tent. Without uttering another word, I made my way out, leaving their discussion behind me.

Once I had changed into more casual attire, I headed to the infirmary. It was clear that the forest races were swiftly packing their belongings, yet they remained dedicated to their duties, tending to the injured. I quickly proceeded to the area where goods were being loaded onto caravans. There, I easily spotted the distinct green hair and long ears I had been searching for.

I silently approached and covered my friend's eyes from behind with my hands. "Ellen," she spoke, her voice dripping with sweetness, "if you don't remove your hands quickly, I might just beat you within an inch of your life."

Her words may have been sugary, but the underlying chill was unmistakable. I promptly withdrew my hands, and the person in front of me turned to face me.

"So, Zena, I was just teasing a bit. No need to take it so seriously," I replied, attempting to defuse the tension.

"I was also just teasing," she said with a soft smile, though her words seemed at odds with the glint in her eyes. That smile, however, made me catch my breath for a split second.

Zena's beauty was unparalleled, even among elves. Comparing her to others was akin to contrasting precious gems with roadside pebbles. But even her strength matched her beauty. From what I had observed, I wasn't confident I could emerge victorious in a no-holds-barred fight against her.

"I've heard everything from Amanel. We'll meet again once this war is over," I reaffirmed.

"Yes. Though it would have been better if we had left a day later," she replied, a tinge of melancholy in her voice. "Some soldiers won't make it through the night without proper care. We can't do anything about that now even if we want to."

"Anyways, I'll be facing off with Black Spear tomorrow," I attempted to change the subject. "You were captured by him for some time before I arrived, right? I'll give him a good thrashing and take revenge on your behalf."

My words brought a gentle smile to her face. "Just don't overexert yourself dwelling on unnecessary thoughts. You're in for a pleasant surprise tomorrow."

She ran her fingers through my hair lightly for a moment before bestowing upon me an elven blessing. "May the spirits be with you."

"I'll definitely come to see you after this is over," I replied, making my way to my cabin. Glancing back, I saw that Zena still wore a smile on her face.

"What did she mean by a surprise?" I pondered, even as I lay on my bed. The question swirled in my mind like an enigma.

The Black Spear had only made two appearances thus far, despite the war having raged on for several months. The first time had been at the outset of the conflict when he swiftly conquered half of the Lapas Kingdom in just five days. Eyewitnesses had described him as an unstoppable demon, drenched in blood, an unstoppable force. However, following that, he had remained absent from the battlefield. Only his commanders led the troops, gradually pushing the conquest forward.

The second occasion was when the weak second-in-command had been captured by the allied army, preceding my arrival. According to what I had gathered from others, he had calmly walked into the heart of our camp, retrieved the captive, and not a single soul had dared to oppose him. It was as if an invisible force had frozen them in place, and any movement might have triggered something catastrophic. Before departing, he had simply uttered, "Don't make me do extra work." This was the very reason I had been advised against killing the inept fool.

The enigmatic figure known as the Black Spear still remained a mystery, as his face remained hidden beneath his obsidian black armor. This very concealment deterred the continent's formidable powerhouses from venturing onto the frontlines. While knowledge about several of the stronger demons was available, the Black Spear was not among them. Facing an unknown variable with limitless potential was a prospect that none were eager to embrace.

Despite having these thoughts, I quickly dismissed them. Tomorrow, I would face him in battle, and a good night's sleep was essential for my preparation. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion of the day, and fortunately, I found solace in dreamless slumber.

The next morning, I arose early, preparing myself for the daunting battle ahead. My mission was straightforward: survive until the reinforcements arrived. That was the plan, at least.

However, nothing ever goes as planned. Chaos had enveloped my surroundings. It was a struggle merely to remain standing amidst the overwhelming pressure. Even the slightest movement was an exhausting effort. The entire battlefield had been sealed off by an unknown force, azure columns emerging from the ground and shooting skyward. Anything caught within their grasp disintegrated into oblivion. The sky above was obscured by dark, ominous clouds that unleashed thunderous destruction upon both monsters and humans.

I yearned for a miracle, but none manifested. The azure columns expanded at an agonizing pace, but the hand protruding from the pillar in front of me had not yet disintegrated, though it teetered on the brink of being devoured by the encroaching light.

Drawing upon every shred of mana within me, I flung myself toward that hand. In a final, desperate act, I pushed my life force to its limits, barely managing to make contact. Yet, as soon as our fingers made contact, my mind went blank, fading into oblivion.