Marona and her team found themselves flanked on both sides. With a sharp command, her voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Prepare for attack!”

Ahead, twenty aura swordsmen and fifteen assassins advanced, their expressions twisted with dark intent. Lucas’s quick calculations told himself that they had the upper hand for now, but the ground shifted beneath his confidence as the tunnel behind them—once their only escape—collapsed in a shower of stone. The earth trembled, sealing them in.

The enemy moved in perfect synchrony. In a swift, practiced motion, they uncorked dark vials and drank greedily. Immediately, the air crackled with the surge of energy. Swordsmen who had once been of Dawnblade level now burned with the destructive power of Emberblade.

Marona’s eyes narrowed, disgust and recognition flashing across her face. “The boon of Berserk… It amplifies their aura for five minutes, but they’re dead afterward. How did that old magus even get his hands on something this volatile?” Her voice lowered, almost to herself, “This won’t be enough to stop me. Not at this level.”

“Don't get cocky, Marona,” Silas warned, stepping forward, his stance firm despite the pressure of the oncoming horde. His gaze flicked to the frenzied enemies, now foaming at the mouth, their eyes bloodshot with madness. “These dark mages never make the first move unless they’re holding something back.”

The enemy’s bloodlust ignited. With a guttural scream, the swordsmen and assassins surged forward, abandoning all tactics, attacking like wild beasts—no regard for their lives, only the death they could deal before their own demise.

Lucas kept his breathing steady, his mind calculating. His eyes scanned the battlefield, tracking movements with cold precision. He spoke internally, his voice low but calm. “AI, assess the threat.”

A beep followed, quick and efficient.

“Enemies' auras have spiked to Emberblade level. Ranged combat strongly recommended. Host is advised to avoid close engagement.”

Lucas’s lips tightened. He already knew what needed to be done, but hearing the AI confirm his instincts only sharpened his focus.

"Then let’s see how long they last before they burn out.”

The remaining six hired mercenaries and thirty aura swordsmen were the first to meet the onslaught of the berserk swordsmen. Red auras flared violently around the frenzied attackers, their movements wild and unrestrained, as if possessed by the very spirit of war itself. Marona’s men froze, the sheer bloodlust of the enemy shaking them to their core.

Attack [https://i.imgur.com/Cmu9oeJ.jpeg]

The leader of the group, an Emberblade captain, turned back, raising his sword with unwavering defiance. “We are the honorable aura swordsmen of Lady Marona! We dance with death daily! Let’s show them who we are!” His voice boomed across the battlefield, a rallying cry of defiance. “For glory!”

The men, inspired by their captain's words, banged their swords on their shields in unison, their war chant filling the air. “For glory!”

But just as the captain raised his blade for one final rallying call, “For Lady Mar—guk!” His words were cut short as an assassin’s knife thrown, shimmering with deadly aura, sliced clean through his throat from behind. He fell, lifeless, before his men could even react.

Despair gripped Marona's swordsmen like a vice. Their leader lay dead at their feet, and now assassins lurked in the shadows behind the berserk swordsmen. All hope seemed lost.

Meluis stepped forward, his face twisted with fury. “Stop being a bunch of fucking cowards! What’s wrong with you lot? Do you even have cocks down there, or just fat cunts? MAN UP!”

Meluis’s red aura exploded outward, a beacon of raw power that rippled through the ranks, filling the terrified swordsmen with renewed strength. Even the hired mercenaries, standing in their heavy armor. But one particularly large mercenary sneered under his breath, “This one-handed fool… I’ll kill him with my own hands. But not yet.”

The berserk swordsmen advanced from the front, while the assassins crept closer from behind, their knives gleaming with deadly intent.

Marona, assessing the situation with a sharp gaze, turned to Silas. “This might be a bit much for these guys. Should we step in and give them a hand?”

Silas hesitated, calculating the risk. “We’ll use more mana than I’d like, but… yes. Let’s end this.”

They both began to channel their spells, but suddenly, a glowing rune circle appeared beneath their feet. Instantly, their mana began to drain, pulled from their mana hearts as if siphoned by a black hole.

Marona’s eyes widened in shock. “A mana drain rune! First the Berserk potions, now this… That dark magus isn’t as simple as we thought.”

Silas’s face mirrored her disbelief. “Can you break it?”

Rune [https://i.imgur.com/vmhL9Ux.jpeg]

Marona’s lips tightened. “It’s not that simple. This rune is too large. It’s being powered by something external…” Her voice faltered as she realized. “A mana tower. This whole trap is fuelled by a mana tower.”

Silas’s face paled. “How the hell does a low-level dark magus have access to a mana tower down here?”

Marona, now serious, said, “It’s likely the lowest grade of mana tower—two intermediate apprentices can break this—but still… it’s impressive.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Her voice dropped into a resigned sigh. “We’re trapped. The tunnel’s blocked, and this rune is draining us dry. I have to break it.”

Silas’s face filled with concern. “You don’t have enough mana, Marona!”

She laughed bitterly, her eyes narrowing in defiance. “I have a way… but the rest is up to you, Silas.”

Without waiting for a reply, Marona began pouring all her remaining mana into the rune. Her body trembled as the mana circle beneath them glowed brighter, hungrily siphoning every ounce of energy from her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breath quickening with the effort.

As her mana reserves began to dwindle, Marona reached into her pouch, pulling out two mana recovery potions. Without hesitation, she downed them both at once, gasping as the bitter liquid burned down her throat. Pain rippled through her, and she let out a low groan as her body strained under the pressure.

Lady [https://i.imgur.com/FYSa26T.jpeg]

The rune, now glowing with intense light, began to crack. Slowly, its glow dimmed, the draining effect weakening. With one final push, the rune shattered, its power dissipating into nothingness. Marona stumbled, her legs weak, but the mana drain was gone.

With faltering legs, Marona gasped, “It’s up to you, Silas.” Her voice trembled, a mix of fear and determination flickering in her eyes.

Silas’s face darkened, heavy with the weight of her words. The battlefield roared around them, chaos erupting as their foes closed in.

From a distance, Lucas sniped the berserk swordsmen with aura arrows, his heart racing as he observed the unfolding drama. They were in dire straits; berserk swordsman fell after taking five arrows to the head, but Lucas knew that against the Ember Blade, their effects would be diminished.

“Lucas! Come here! Protect Marona!” Silas shouted, urgency lacing his voice.

Drawing his rune sword, Lucas sprinted toward Marona, determination propelling him forward.

The berserk swordsman collided with Marona’s hired men. Lucas watched helplessly as five hired swordsmen were cut down, their mangled bodies falling to the ground. Only one tall, burly man held his ground, struggling against the relentless onslaught.

In response, Silas cast a large mudpool spell, the earth beneath their feet shifting and slowing the berserk swordsman just enough to give Marona’s men a moment to breathe. The acrid scent of blood mingled with the earthy odor of the mudpool, creating a thick atmosphere of desperation.

mage [https://i.imgur.com/39jrIu9.jpeg]

“Hold together!” Meluis shouted, rallying the remaining swordsmen. The mudpool had given them a glimmer of hope.

Silas, straining under the pressure, launched two level-one stone spears. They struck the berserk swordsman's heavily, but they still stood, a brutal grin spreading across there faces. Exhausted, Silas slumped to the ground, breathless.

Meluis’s expression turned serious as his aura flared, a fiery determination igniting within him. With a fierce swing of his greatsword, “Honeyblood,” he struck the nearest injured berserk swordsman, cleaving him from shoulder to abdomen.

The remaining Dawnblade swordsmen, emboldened by Meluis’s display of strength, surged forward with renewed ferocity. The chaotic battle continued, but Meluis remained focused. He noticed assassins sneaking in toward the mages at the back.

“Form closer! Don’t let them near the mages!” Meluis ordered, his voice cutting through the din.

In the fray, he spotted the last heavy-armored swordsman, barely clinging to life. Leaping toward him, Meluis engaged the berserk swordsman who had been fighting the armoured man.

swordsman [https://i.imgur.com/Lk4wXk1.jpeg]

“No matter how skilled he is, he can’t match the berserk’s strength,” Meluis thought, a grim realization settling over him. He turned to the armoured swordsman. “Protect the mages from the assassins!”

The armoured man grumbled, annoyance etched across his face, but he nodded, moving back toward Marona and Silas. Together, they formed a desperate line against the encroaching darkness.

“Stay strong!” Lucas called out to himself, feeling the adrenaline surge. He was in fear, but he wouldn’t fail them.

The battle at the front was crude and brutal. Marona’s aura swordsmen fought with desperation, their every strike fuelled by the instinct to survive, while the berserk aura swordsmen charged in as if inviting death itself. Silas had injured several of their foes, granting a brief advantage, but the assassins remained the most cunning threat.

Meluis fought tooth and nail against a relentless berserk swordsman, their blades clashing in a furious exchange. With each step, they were forced back, and the Dawnblade swordsmen on Marona’s side fell like autumn leaves, chopped down left and right, ambushed by the sneaky assassins.

Now, only eight aura swordsmen remained against twelve berserk swordsmen and nine assassins. Silas sensed the assassins preparing to synchronize their attack on the mages. Acting quickly, he pulled out the half mana recovery potion he had.

“Marona, wait!” Silas shouted, urgency lacing his voice, but it was too late. With her last ounce of strength, she snatched the vial from his hand and drank it down.

“Why did you drink that? You already had two! You’ll get mana poisoning!” Silas exclaimed, shock written across his face.

Blood trickled from her eyes and nose, but with a fierce determination, Marona cast a level two Air Slice spell. The magical gust cut through the air, taking down six assassins and injuring eight berserk swordsmen. However, in her desperate attempt to avoid striking her own men, five of Marona’s aura swordsmen fell lifeless to the ground.

Meluis, despite years of battle experience, felt a searing pain as a large gash opened on his leg. With the aftermath of Marona’s spell, she fell unconscious, collapsing to the ground.

Now, only three assassins and four berserk swordsmen remained, charging toward the exhausted mages—their true targets. Lucas felt the cold grip of death closing in around him. Desperately, he reached for two small vials of mana recovery potion and downed them in quick succession. As he felt energy surge through him, he casted multiple mudpool and clay bind spells, the pain throbbing until blood trickled from his nose.

The heavily armoured swordsman stared at Lucas in awe as the clay ensnared the berserk men, foam spilling from their mouths. “We… will kill you,” they rasped, barely able to articulate their threat.

With pain etched across there faces, Lucas managed a small smile. “It’s time for you to die.”

In his mind, the AI completed its countdown, and an alert beeped:

“5 minutes completed; berserk phase ended.”

In a brutal display, black blood spewed from all the assassins and swordsmen, their bodies collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

Exhausted, Lucas let out a long breath and collapsed onto the dirt, believing the nightmare was finally over. But just as relief washed over him, the large door behind him creaked open, revealing a horrifying sight: children were crucified at the center of the door, their cries echoing as their bodies tore apart.

As the door swung wide, an old dark mage stepped forward, accompanied by Nyx, the Shadowflame assassin. Nyx scowled, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the battlefield. “Why are they still alive?” she hissed, frustration evident in her voice.

dark [https://i.imgur.com/KWrgskO.jpeg]

The dark mage’s gaze fell on the unconscious Marona, drained of mana. “Silas,” he said coldly, a hint of malice in his tone. “They are just waiting for death. We just need to give them a push. I won’t accept this level of loss. It will take twenty years to recover what I’ve lost, but I will ensure Marona and this old mage pay tenfold for every drop of blood.”

Lucas’s heart raced, panic tightening its grip as he searched for any possible solution or trick to counter the impending doom. The shadows of despair closed in around them, the air thick with a sense of foreboding.