The sound of footsteps thudding across the dirt road echoed in Perriman’s ears as he ran uphill towards his estate. His family and beloved servants were the only thing on his mind, the thought of their deaths at the jaws of Wyverns drowned out sound of the town’s warning bells behind him. Why now? Was it divine intervention? The gods sending those winged beasts to enact judgement on him and his town for the involvement with the invaders?

Wyverns hardly ever attacked town, unless the food supply for their hive was running low or they were migrating to a new nest.

But the fields outside Vatur were filled with game to hunt and keep them satiated, so this made no sense.

He gave up trying to understand the cause, as the sight of his mansion came into view over the hill. Perriman stopped at the top of the hill, turning around to witness the cloud that enshrouded the winded beasts descend upon the town square. Through the streets and out the duchy gates people fled for their lives, some on horseback and others on foot, heading towards the nearby forest in hopes that the thick trees would shield them from the death above. Some were less fortunate than others, smaller wyverns detaching from their flock, leaving the storm cloud to dive bomb their prey. Screams and sounds of utter chaos filled the autumn air as the drakes picked up whichever unfortunate soul they could, sinking their claws and hoisting them into the air.

“Randal! Marsha!” Perriman yelled as he kicked the front door of this lavish home open.

The head butler and the head maid quickly rushed down the stairs, worry etched on their faces.

“My Lord, what is going on outside?” Randal asked, hurrying over to his master and giving a quick bow.

“Wyverns. No time to explain.” replied Perriman, though his answer was an explanation in itself.

“Forget about packing. Get the family, get the servants, everyone. Take the horses and ride out towards the forest, ride like the wind. Make sure you stay as close as possible to the tree line of the estate until you hit the clearing. Do NOT turn back for even a moment.”

“My Lord, what about you?” Marsha interjected, eyes wide with panic when Perriman mentioned the drakes terrorizing the town.

“I will join you as post haste. Now go.” he shouted, rushing down the hallway towards the holding cells.

His servants exchanged a look, thinking about staying with their lord, but knew better than to disobey. Perriman had entrusted them with the most important task, the safety and wellbeing of his family and rest of the estate staff. With one decisive nod, they swallowed their hesitancy and ran back up the stairs, Marsha almost tripping on the fifth step due to her long dress.

Albrecht came crashing down the stairs like a whirlwind, swinging open the door of Layla’s holding cell, keys jingling in his trembling hands.

“Get out. Quickly now.”

He mumbled his words, looking pale as a sheet to Layla’s surprise.

“What’s going on?” she asked, not thinking twice about stepping out of the cell.

“Wyvern’s fell upon the town. The Queen is to arrive soon, from the East gate. Flee and keep your head down.” continued the noble, grabbing Layla by the forearm and practically dragging her back up the stair to the ground floor of the mansion.

His servants were as quick as they were efficient. Through the window, he could see Randal ushering everyone towards the stables, while Marsha made sure no one was being left behind.

One by one, the horses left the stables with as many people on their back as they could carry and still be able to run fast.

As the only two remaining servants, Randal and Marsha kept glancing at the mansion, waiting for the master to appear.

The Wyverns spotted new prey, some detaching from the main flock once more, heading straight for the stables. With no more time to spare, the burly beastman grabbed Marsha by the waist and hoisted her up on the saddle on the second to last horse remaining in the stable.

“Randal, what are you-“ the head maid asked, turning her head only to see Randal smack the horse on the read with all his might, sending the animal into a mad dash towards the tree line. The roof of the stable was torn off mere moment later, blade like talons sinking into the butler and hoisting him up.

“Randal!” Albrecht screamed, jumping through the window closest to him, disregarding the shattering glass. He ran a few feet before falling to his knees at the sight of the man who he grew up with being turned into a wishbone by the Wyverns.

The insatiable creatures did not even take time to appreciate the quick meal before turning their sights on the next target. Marsha’s horse, though unburdened by weight as it carried only one person, could not outrun the beasts. With a screech, the drakes soared higher, preparing to dive towards her.

“Merciful Goddess, extend your loving hand in the effort to shield your most devoted.” chanted the noble, mustering up his mana.

“Protection!” came a scream from his left. Layla had also joined him outside, now accompanied by her pants wearing cat. Without need for the entire chant, she cast a spell, wrapping Marsha in a protective barrier.

Jaws clamped around the mana bubble, sending an uncomfortable shock through the entire body of the Wyvern that tried to sink its teeth into Marsha. It hissed, spitting out a tooth and soared back into the air, as the horse reached the tree line.

“I will hold them off. Run!” urged Perriman, getting back up on his feet and pushing the woman, before running off towards the stables.

Inside one horse remained, one that he was most fond of riding whenever he went out hunting with his servants. Even when faced with death, the loyalty of his friend knew no bounds, as Randal did not take the horse like he was ordered, leaving the animal instead for Albrecht.

The noble would’ve shed a tear, if he had the time to do so.

But time was something he was destitute of. Wyverns has their sights on Layla, who moved with surprising speed for someone that spent two weeks in cell, already reaching the garden by the time Perriman had reached the stables.

As fast as she was however, escaping the beasts on foot through open terrain was impossible.

Without a distraction at least.

With a deep inhale, filling his lungs with grief and rage over the loss of his friend and dukedom to the beasts, the noble summoned up all his mana.

“Anvil of the Earth. Hammer of the Sky.” He clasped his hands together, the air around filling with a faint buzzing.

“I call upon your decisive swing, God of Forges, God of Might. Lay down your hammer on the impure and the unjust, let their backs be your anvil.”

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Clouds above formed in a circle, turning blacker with each word, the grass on which he stood began to sear. Lightning flashed upwards to the sky in thick bolts, followed by cracking thunder. The translator stone attached to his shirt collar shattered like glass from the sheer amount of accumulated mana. Perriman stood in a circle of scorched soil, as the lightning bolts shooting upwards suddenly stopped, retracting back towards him. His hand outstretched, palm open, a blue seal slowly rotating around his wrist.

“Perish from my sight, you foul beasts. Feast on flesh in Hell.” he spat on the ground, inhaling deeply and unleashing his spell.

The air cracked as a massive bolt of lightning shot out from his palm, illuminating the surroundings. It struck the Wyvern closest to Layla, followed by deafening thunder.

The beast screeched and stopped flapping its winds, falling at full speed into one of the houses, tearing it down from roof to foundation.

Layla simply covered her head with her arms and continued to run towards cover. She leapt over the main gate of the estate with ease and disappeared around the corner of the first alley she came across. The beasts would not pursue a single target into such a tight space, for it was not worth the effort.

Instead, they looked down at their scorched kin, before roaring in unison and turning their attention over to the stables where Perriman stood.

The duke was already on his horse, uttering a silent goodbye and thanks to Randal, before riding out towards the tree line, but aimed away from the woods where his family and servants were told to go. A few of the Wyverns, one closest in proximity to the scorched one, gave chase while the others resumed picking apart the town in search for more prey.

***

With the town is absolute disarray, the majority of soldiers were already on their way to safety, just like Clyde ordered them to do.

Staying behind were the two warhounds, Jeremy and a small handful of mechanics and an engineer, who desperately tried to keep the gate portal stable enough for the SPAD to cross over.

Clyde watched as the storm cloud covered the sky and wyverns began spewing out like a ravenous swarm. The small ones were the first to detach from the flock, heading for the fleeing townsfolk in search of food. Adults however seemed different, not immediately descending to cause chaos, but looking for something. Finally, their heads locked in the portal gate and soldiers around it, but more importantly, the generators that kept the gate working.

The largest one roared and as one the rest of the flock descended towards the town centre. They seemed to be ignoring the men entirely at first, focusing solely on destroying the generators, which proved to be a fairy simple task for the beasts. Clyde and the soldiers opened fire, but without proper equipment to deal with their fast movements and armour like scales there wasn’t much they could do. In less than a minute, the wyverns tore the generators, picking them up and throwing them in the air. The portal wobbled and closed, as the gate powered down with a hum.

“Shit! Where did these things come from?” yelled one of the mechanics, before being swept up off his feet.

“No clue.” answered Clyde, despite the man who asked the question no longer being neither close enough nor alive enough to hear it.

He could have sworn, drawing his first encounter with the wyverns a year prior from memory, that these things were operating under orders, not just on instinct. Up until they disabled the portal and destroyed their equipment at least. Now, it was utter chaos, as the larger drakes joined their younglings in tearing apart the duchy in search for anyone unfortunate enough to still not have fled.

“Keep your heads down.” the warhound said to the others, grabbing a shotgun from one of the weapon crates right as he was picked up a nasty pair of jaws.

In a second, Clyde found himself in the jaws of a wyvern, looking upside at the Perriman estate. The wyvern had more than half of him in its jaws, teeth trying to sink into the protective vest he wore under his white shirt. Pressing his left hand against the beast’s lower jaw and pushing against its upper jaw with his leg, Clyde manage to force the mouth open just enough to aim the shotgun he held in right hand at the back of its throat and pulled the trigger. The slug had no problem going through the back of the drake’s head once fired from the inside of its mouth.

“The inside of their mouth is vulnerable!” he yelled while falling through the roof of the only inn in the town, along with the dead wyvern.

“No shit! Why didn’t we think of that?!” Jeremy screamed back, laying flat on the ground, covering his head with his arms, while trying to army crawl to an alley.

The ground shifted beneath him and he was suddenly pulled down into a tunnel. Marcel was already there, his Gungams digging through the soil.

“This way to Clyde.” The short soldier began moving through the tunnel, motioning for Jeremy to follow.

“Got anyone else down here?” asked Jeremy.

Marcel merely shook his head.

“No, sadly the mechanics are gone.”

The pair crawled through the tunnel dug by the lizards, until they broke ground right under the inn floor. Clyde was already there, laying on the floor. Despite being slightly beat up, he seemed unharmed.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked.

They say there for a few moments, listening to the screeching of the beasts above. The streets have gone silent for the most part, the denizens of the town either escaped, hid or got eaten.

As the wyverns lingered, roaming the streets and circling the town from the air, Clyde was not certain they weren’t here just by coincidence. They were actively looking for the three of them.

“Think we can wait them out?” Jeremy peeked out the window, looking at the shadows the beast cast on the ground, barely visible by the storm cloud above.

“No chance in hell. They seem to be looking for us no doubt, and they will probably start tearing houses apart until they find us. Ourunning them on foot? Not a chance.” the bruised warhound replied, propping himself up against the wall.

Clyde and his comrades knew his was right, but hoped that proof of his theory would not come as soon. Barely as the words left the man’s mouth, the beasts descended upon the inn, tearing off the roof piece by piece, gnawing at the walls as well.

The Wyverns had their scent and escape from this situation seemed an unlikely outcome.

“Well fellas, it’s been a pleasure.” Jeremy sighed, pulling his pistol from its holster.

None of them were equipped to make even a dent on the flying lizards, but they did not intent to die without wasting ammo.

Suddenly, a trumpet sounded from a few houses up the street, coming from the Eastern side of town. At this point, the three soldiers were standing practically out in the open, the tavern they were in torn apart plank by plank, safe for the floor and a few tables.

The trumpet sound ended as abruptly as it began, before an overwhelming presence filled the air. Air felt diluted, like they were suddenly on top of a mountain, struggling to get their lungs full. Clyde could feel hair on his arms stand on end, cold sweat washing over him.

All three of them felt like they were about to die, a sense of primal fear filling their being.

Never before did the soldiers feel that kind of panic, like staring down the jaws of an insurmountable beast ready to make them their next meal. The wyverns scattered without a second thought, not even trying to reform their storm cloud. They flew without formation, fleeing for their lives back towards the Northern fields from which they came.

The ground felt as if it was shaking, an invisible pressure hammering from above, forcing them to the ground.

"What's going on?" Marcel wheezed, dropping to one knee.

Jeremy followed suit, unable to even form a sentence and just shaking his head in response.

Clyde was the only one who managed to remain on his feet but they felt as if someone had welded them in place.

Despite being unable to feel mana, the men felt this overwhelming aura radiating off the woman that just appeared up the street, riding an armoured horse. Her long hair, unnaturally crimson, was flowing in the wind. Others followed her, knights on horseback and foot soldiers, several of them carrying banners with the insignia of the royal family.

Her armour began to shine, reflecting the rays of sun that reappeared once the fleeing wyverns took the storm cloud with them.

The convoy stopped not too far from the other-worlders, the aura of the Dragon Soul Queen slowly simmering down.

Her eyes, fiercely red like her hair, pierced the invaders with wrathful scorn.

“Seize them at once.” she ordered, as two knights hopped off their horses and began approaching.

Clyde figured they must be her main guard, since their armours looked much better in design and more decorated than the rest. His right hand instinctively moved to his side, reaching for his revolver. Before he could blink the soldier felt cold, sharp steel press against his neck. Without moving his head, Clyde looked at his comrades who were in the same situation.

The knights have closed a distance of over two houses length in less than a second.

“So much as twitch without the Queen’s approval, and I will slit your throat gleefully.” growled the knight before him, pressing the blade harder against Clyde’s neck.