The wall was cold against his back, but Tyrin felt something warm trickling down his forehead. His body was a wreck—his right leg twisted grotesquely, like a broken doll, and his lungs felt full of water, making every breath a battle. But despite this, his eyes did not waver. They tracked the enemy like those of a starving predator, ignoring the pain and exhaustion.

The being floated before him, impassive, observing the carnage it had caused. The turrets on the wall, meant to be the last line of defense, had been destroyed as if they were fragile toys. Soldiers who dared to shoot had been blown apart, turned into balloons of flesh and blood. And now, only fifteen seconds after the massacre had begun, the enemy was there again—standing before Tyrin, as if analyzing a stubborn insect that refused to die.

The being tilted slightly, the light from the explosions reflecting off its metallic carapace. Its voice reverberated, layered with multiple overlapping tones.

— What... is... your name?

Tyrin blinked. His eyes, once filled with fury, hesitated for a brief moment. But he did not answer.

The creature tilted its head.

— Am I speaking the right language? I am certain this is the one...

The Aracnofon Elites were singular creatures. They devoured their victims to absorb not just their strength but also their memories—a power as addictive as it was dangerous. The taste of victory and growth fueled them, but in contrast, consuming weak creatures brought the weight of defeat and pain, something even they sought to avoid.

And that human before it… He was not strong. He should have been insignificant. And yet, his audacity was an affront. His gaze was pure defiance. That was unacceptable.

A burning rage took hold of the Aracnofon, swelling to the point of eruption. It would make that human pay.

But before it could advance, something unexpected happened.

A brutal impact struck its body, hurling it away like a mere puppet. It spun through the air and crashed heavily, destroying what remained of the wall. Dust rose, and for a brief moment, silence reigned.

Its eyes burned with fury as it searched for the one responsible.

And then, it saw her.

A woman.

Tall. Muscular. Wearing armor without a helmet. And it recognized that armor.

Conquerors.

Living legends. Warriors so powerful that their remains had been seized by the Queen to ensure only the strongest inherited their strength. And now, a descendant of theirs was standing there.

The Aracnofon smiled.

Finally, a worthy opponent.

It raised its arms and roared, its call echoing through the night. The creatures attacking other sectors paused. One by one, dozens of them turned their eyes toward the scene and began to move.

But this was not a call to war.

It was a call to witness its glory.

— WITNESS ME!

— Holy shit, kid, he really did a number on you.

Tyrin barely registered the voice. His focus was still on the fight, even as his body refused to respond. He knew who had arrived—Gertrude.

She knelt beside him, quickly examining his condition. He was alive. That alone was a miracle.

With a heavy sigh, she pulled a small potion from her pocket.

— This will keep you breathing, but it won't fix you. I'll charge you later.

She forced Tyrin's mouth open and poured the liquid down his throat. The taste was awful, like rust and bitter herbs, but the relief was immediate. His lungs loosened slightly, and he managed to take a breath without feeling like he was drowning.

Gertrude then stood up, rolling her shoulders.

— Alright, little bee. You like bullying my student? I think that gives me the right to return the favor.

The Aracnofon didn't even have time to react.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Gertrude surged forward in an instant, delivering a straight punch to its face. The creature dodged with absurd reflexes and countered with an uppercut to her chin.

But Gertrude was no ordinary fighter.

With precise movement, she raised her elbow and intercepted the blow, dispersing the force outward. The impact was so brutal that everything within a few meters was blasted away—sand, stone, and debris scattering as if a storm had just struck the wall.

Tyrin, still on the ground, could only see the dust rising. But before the flying debris could hit him, a massive shadow loomed over him.

— CaoCao?

The enormous Pongo warrior lifted him effortlessly and leaped away from the battle.

They landed near the portal at the center of the courtyard. CaoCao carefully set him down and, without a word, turned and sprinted back into the fight.

Tyrin, powerless, could only watch.

His body trembled.

He wanted to fight.

He needed to fight.

But he couldn't move.

Frustration consumed him, and tears ran down his blood- and dust-streaked face.

— Damn it… I need to get better… Everyone is counting on me… I'm useless…

He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his own flesh. His body was slowly regenerating, but even Gertrude's potion wasn't a miracle cure. He was out of commission for the rest of the day.

And in the distance, the sounds of battle raged on.

Fists clashing against carapaces. Screams echoing through the night. Gertrude's roar and the Aracnofon's howls, now locked in brutal combat.

Tyrin closed his eyes.

Next time…

I won't be left behind.

Almost two hours passed before anything changed.

Silence finally fell.

And then, she appeared.

Gertrude limped through the gates, her body covered in cuts, bruises, and dried blood. Her left arm was dislocated, and she seemed to be holding onto a broken rib.

Behind her, CaoCao dragged himself along, barely able to stay on his feet.

Tyrin's eyes widened.

Gertrude looked at him and grinned, spitting out some blood.

— Holy shit, kid. And here I thought you were in bad shape. Look what that bastard did to me.

She laughed.

And immediately winced in pain.

— Ah, ah, ah… shit.

And yet, she kept laughing.

Gertrude laughed and winced, sometimes at the same time, but despite it all, there was a strange calm in her. Tyrin watched her, trying to understand.

— Did you kill it? — he asked, his voice still hoarse from the pain.

Gertrude just smirked and tossed something his way. Instinctively, he caught it midair—though with effort. It was a dark stone, about the size of his palm, with a strangely smooth and cold texture.

— I'll admit, it was a tough fight, even for me. I mean… if it were the old me, it would've been a walk in the park, but…

She lifted her gaze, fixing it on the central planet that loomed in the sky, enormous and imposing.

— I think we lost this war.

Tyrin frowned. He expected many emotions from Gertrude—anger, frustration, maybe even sarcasm. But not that quiet sorrow.

— How can you be so sure?

Gertrude closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the final moments of the fight. The taste of blood was still in her mouth, and the pain in her stomach made her want to scream, but she had held everything back just to hear the enemy's words.

— Before he died, he told me something.

Tyrin felt a chill run down his spine.

— What was it?

Gertrude sighed, pulling the recent memories forward as if they were a heavy burden.

She remembered the exact moment. Her body was wrecked, one hand pressing against the massive gash in her abdomen to keep her intestines from spilling out. In front of her, the warrior bee still stood, its head tilting to the side, its eyes unfocused but still alive—just enough to speak.

— "I am merely a captain. What do you think will happen when my superior arrives?"

The words were spoken with an almost melodic cadence, each syllable drawn out to make sure she had no doubts he was telling the truth.

And it made sense.

Why would such a powerful force be attacking this moon? This moon wasn't even relevant within the main territory.

That would explain the terrifying student casualty rate.

Gertrude returned to the present, forming a tired half-smile.

— He didn't say anything interesting. — She murmured to Tyrin. — Take this stone and give it to your pet. He'll love a gift like this.

Tyrin watched her in silence, sensing that there was something she wasn't saying.

— Did you see Luci?

— No, professor.

Gertrude clicked her tongue.

— Hmmm. CaoCao, go check where she is. But if she's fighting, leave her. She needs the training too.

The feline warrior nodded and disappeared into the darkness. He wasn't gone for long before returning—but now, he wasn't alone.

Luci was with him.

And Tyrin's eyes widened.

She was riding what looked like a fire iguana the size of an elephant.

And both of them were on fire.

The flames didn't burn chaotically but moved in a mesmerizing, perfect flow, like a dance between creature and tamer. It was beautiful. And terrifying.

Luci dismounted, and the moment her feet touched the ground, the flames around her body vanished. However, her clothes were completely burned away.

Tyrin had never seen anything like it. He stared, fascinated—until Luci noticed his gaze.

Her face turned red, and a wave of fury flashed in her eyes.

Before he could say anything, she hid behind the giant iguana.

— Hmmm… Looks like you've never seen a girl before, Tyrin. At least try to be subtle. — Gertrude laughed, crossing her arms.

— No… I mean, that wasn't my intention… She just showed up out of nowhere, and she was on fire! I've never seen anything so beautiful… — He stopped as he realized his own words. — I mean…

Gertrude burst into laughter.

— Holy shit, kid! Just stop talking. She's going to kill you. Hahahaha!

And Luci did exactly that.

With the speed of a wild beast, she lunged at him and started punching him until he was almost unconscious—only to throw him to the ground, heal him with a potion, and punch him again.

Gertrude watched the scene with a nostalgic glimmer in her eyes.

— Love is beautiful.

But deep down, something inside her told her this moment of peace wouldn't last long.

And it didn't take long for that to be proven true.