Ivan swung the tank toward the Western Sector, treads grinding against dirt and crushed stone. Just as he was about to slam the throttle forward, Leila's voice crackled into his intercom.
"There's also a Cerus sighting at the EAST!"
Ivan's heart stopped for a beat. "What?!"
Back at the briefing, the commanders had estimated that the Cerus wouldn't reach the East for another two hours. It had only been thirty minutes since the fight broke out.
They were wrong.
Ivan's hands slipped from the controls as the weight of the decision bore down on him. The Red Musket could only be in one place at a time. No matter what he chose, one front would be left vulnerable.
His grip tightened on the throttle, his mind racing. Where do we go?
Then, Leila's voice came through again, tense but unwavering.
"HQ lit up another green flare toward the West… Mister, they want us to proceed there."
Ivan swallowed hard. "But what about the East...?"
"Another signal. Three lights now. HQ is confirming. We're needed in the West."
Ivan clenched his jaw. His knuckles went white around the throttle.
Damn it.
They didn't have a choice.
If they hesitated any longer, both sectors would fall.
"Shit!" He slammed the throttle forward. "We're clearing the West—fast—then we move to the East. No delays."
The Red Musket roared to life, surging forward with relentless speed.
Jusis glanced at the growing glow of the East's warning flare, his voice grim. "I hope we still have time until then…"
Leonard, steady as ever, gripped the tank's interior tightly . "We must make it so."
The Red Musket roared across the battlefield, its treads crushing the earth beneath its immense weight. The tank's engine howled, pushing at 70 kph.
Inside, Ivan's grip on the controls tightened as his mind flickered back to the war council meeting.
A map of Manila's circular great walls lay before them.
Beyond those towering barriers, scattered emblems marked key defensive positions—one, in particular, caught his eye.
A pitchfork inside the circle.
He had frowned at it, confusion lining his face. "What does this symbol mean?"
Beside him, Captain MacArthur had merely exhaled. "Armed civilians."
A lump formed in Ivan's throat. "Civilians?"
MacArthur nodded grimly. "If the walls are breached before reinforcements arrive... they fight."
Ivan had opposed it immediately. The thought of farmers, merchants, and children barely past their teens holding the line against monsters—it was unthinkable. But deep down, he knew.
There was no other choice.
If they didn't make it in time, the East would fall. And with it, innocent lives.
"Damn it." Ivan forced himself back to the present, slamming the throttle forward. "We need to move faster."
Ahead, the defensive forces had done their job which was to make the road mostly cleared, a wide path carved out around the walls so the tank could pass unimpeded.
But not completely.
Scattered groups of goblins skittered across the open field, some leaping toward the tank, weapons raised.
They didn't have time to stop.
Leila took action instantly.
She raised her staff, mana surging through her veins.
A series of magic circles materialized around the Red Musket, glowing like celestial rings.
At the first sign of movement—shhk!
A barrage of razor-sharp crystallites shot outward, impaling any goblins within range.
Those that survived the magical assault had no chance against the steel behemoth.
The Red Musket barreled forward, its armored hull flattening anything that dared stand in its way. Bones crunched. Blood splattered. The tank did not stop.
Inside, Jusis wiped the sweat off his brow. "They're throwing themselves at us like insects."
Leila kept her gaze forward, breathing steadily. "They can try. They'll just die faster."
Leonard, watching the chaos unfold, merely muttered under his breath.
"The wicked know not reason nor fear. Thus, their fate is but assured."
And still, the Red Musket pressed on, charging toward the Western Sector.
Inside the steel beast, tension coiled tight.
"Lacertil Cerus! Distance 1000 meters!" Leila's voice crackled through the intercom, urgent.
Ivan narrowed his eyes. "Leo, load HEAT!"
Leonard moved like clockwork. He heaved the heavy explosive shell into the breech, locking it with a resounding clank. "Done."
Ivan adjusted the tank's trajectory, the turret groaning as it aligned.
"Jusis, is it on?"
Peering through the targeting scope, Jusis tracked the approaching figure—a massive bipedal silhouette against the burning horizon. "It's on the monster."
Ivan exhaled. They didn't have time. "Fire!"
—
Meanwhile, in the Eastern Sector…
"I-Impossible?! They're not supposed to be here at this hour yet!" a defending knight shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief.
Through the thick mist and the sickly glow of torches, a sea of crimson eyes blinked open beneath the treeline.
They weren't supposed to arrive yet. The Demon army wasn't expected for another two hours. But now, they stood at the gates.
And worse, far worse ,is the single, colossal eye glowing azure in the sea of red.
They knew that eye. Every soul on the eastern wall recognized it.
A Cerus.
Each of its earthshaking steps sent tremors through the ground, rattling shields and teeth. The trees bowed to its monstrous passage. And under the silver moon, it emerged.
Its massive, arc-shaped body glistened with thick, chitinous armor, each plate jagged and scarred from untold battles. Spikes crowned its spine like a crown of death, and its claws—razor-sharp and obsidian—clinked as it walked.
A pangolin from hell.
The Chotonic Cerus.
Silence seized the wall. Eyes wide. Mouths agape. No one moved.
How do you fight something like this?
The Eastern Captain gritted his teeth, swallowing his dread. "All of you! Hold the line! We will not let them through! Mages! Archers! Aim at that abomination! Let loose everything you have—NOW!"
A storm of color answered his command.
From the walls and barricades, spells lit up the darkness like a thousand suns. Bolts of fire, lances of ice, blades of wind. Arrows screamed through the air. It all converged on the Cerus.
An eruption of light. Dust and debris soared into the sky.
Then silence.
As the smoke cleared, they saw it—untouched.
Not a single scratch.
Then it roared. The sound was a bone-deep vibration that crushed hope. Its spiny back crackled to life, glowing with streaks of blue lightning.
The knights felt it in their hearts.
It was over.
"Run…" the captain whispered.
Then louder, hoarse with despair: "Everyone… RUN!"
The Chotonic Cerus curled in on itself like a monstrous wheel—its plated armor locking into a perfect sphere—and then it rolled.
Faster than any beast of its size should be able to move.
Faster than they could flee.
The first barricade crumpled like paper. Flesh and steel alike were pulverized beneath its unstoppable mass.
Mages on the wall screamed incantations, hurling everything they had—but their spells sparked and fizzled harmlessly off the creature's hide.
Then came the impact.
The Cerus crashed into the wall like a comet.
A shockwave blew men from their posts. Rubble flew in all directions. Bodies tumbled like dolls.
The wall—once thought impregnable—was shattered.
One mage, face soaked in blood, forced himself to stand.
And there it was.
The Chotonic Cerus—wreathed in steam and gore—stepping into the breach.
The mage trembled, knees knocking together. But he knew his duty. His shaking hand raised his staff, light gathering.
The Cerus raised its claw.
The mage screamed and it's not from courage, but from terror—and released the flare.
A single beam of light shot skyward.
Then the claw came down.
Like a swatter to a fly.
The mage's body exploded into a spray of blood and entrails, painting the earth in crimson.
But the signal was sent.
Across the entire Manilia Wall, the one color no one ever wished to see pulsed into the sky—
Purple.
A single truth etched into the dark night sky.
The wall has been breached.
Purple lights is a grim signal that every mages or every one with mana could also detect by its mana signal. So Ivan team detected it as well.
"Mister!" Leila shouts, "What is it?" Ivan replied.
"The east… the eastern sector has been breached!"
Ivan slammed the brakes as he heard that.
Ivan's knuckles tightened around the throttle lever, breath caught in his throat.
"What did you just say?" he asked, voice too low, the kind that carried a storm behind it.
Leila didn't hesitate. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm. "The eastern wall... it's been breached. The signal is purple. It's confirmed."
A heavy silence dropped inside the tank like a hammer.
Ivan's foot slammed the brakes.
The tank screeched, treads grinding violently against the dirt and gravel. Inside, the crew jolted—Leonard caught himself against the turret wall with a grunt, Jusis clutched the machine gun mount to steady himself, while Leila's back thudded against the comms console.
Outside, the Red Musket stood still, engine rumbling like a beast chained mid-charge.
"No... no, that's too soon," Ivan whispered, eyes wide, his mind racing.
That wasn't supposed to happen. They still had time.
Didn't they?
His gaze burned forward through the viewport, but what he saw was not the western path ahead.
Instead, his mind was dragged back, cold and unwilling, into the stone-lit war room from earlier that day.
The map of Manila sprawled before him, etched with the familiar circular shape of the great defensive wall. Tiny painted emblems were placed along the perimeter. Swords for knights, bows for rangers, runes for mages.
But inside the wall…
A pitchfork symbol.
One that stuck out like a bloodstain on parchment.
"What are those?" Ivan had asked, pointing.
Macthur, the grizzled Chief Captain of Manila stood behind him with arms crossed. "Armed civilians," he'd answered grimly. "If the wall is breached, they are the last line. Not trained. Not blessed. Just desperate hands holding steel."
Ivan's jaw clenched. "You mean to tell me you're relying on farmers and laborers to hold back a Cerus?"
"We rely on what we have," Macthur had said. "This is a city that's out of time."
The memory stabbed through him like ice.
If they left the East… if they didn't turn back now… those people would be the ones to face the Cerus. Alone.
But just as doubt began to twist deeper into his gut
A sudden flare burst through the sky. Another green light streaked across the night, arcing toward the western heavens.
Leila's voice came through the intercom, tight with urgency. "Another signal, Mister Ivan—HQ just reaffirmed the West Sector. The Red Musket is ordered to push through."
Ivan's heart pounded.
He slammed a fist against the control panel, gritting his teeth.
"They're sending us away from the breach…" he muttered under his breath.
Jusis looked up from his seat below, eyes wide. "W-we're not turning back?"
For a second, Ivan didn't answer. The silence dragged like a blade.
Then he shoved the throttle forward with both hands.
The tank jolted back into motion, its massive engine roaring to life once more. Dirt exploded behind them as the Red Musket surged forward toward the Western Sector.
"We finish this fast," Ivan growled. "We finish it now, then we go east—no matter what HQ says."
"Understood," Leonard said solemnly.
Leila swallowed hard and turned to face the dark horizon ahead. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Let's pray there's still something left to save…"
Then, just as they crested the next ridge, another beacon flared.
This one blinked blue, cold, pulsing, and terrible.
Everyone in the tank froze.
"That's the eastern signal, they are currently engaging with Cerus…" Leila breathed.
Ivan didn't speak.
But his eyes burned like fire behind the viewport glass.
The tank rumbled on, metal claws of fury biting into the earth, thundering toward a battle that could no longer wait.
Meanwhile on the East Sector…
The dust had finally begun to settle.
The moonlight pierced through the haze like a blade through gauze, revealing the ragged wounds of the breached wall. The scattered corpses, the shattered stones, the scorched earth. Everything is still. Unnaturally still.
The Cerus stood within the ruined wall.
Its hulking, armored frame slowly shifted, joints clicking with unnatural grace as it scanned its new hunting ground. Steam curled from the slits between its thick, chitinous plates. Blue electricity crackled faintly across its spiked spine, fading into a dim hum.
Its eyes, if one could call them glowed dimly, like twin suns buried beneath deep ocean water. It took one heavy step forward, claws dragging slowly across the stone, carving molten grooves in the earth.
Then it paused.
Ahead of it, only quiet.
Dilapidated homes. Cobblestone streets. Lanterns swaying slightly in the wind. The eastern residential quarter, or nothing more than sleeping houses with shuttered windows and slanted roofs.
And yet…
The Cerus tilted its head, slow and animalistic. Its nostrils flared.
A metallic clank echoed across the block.
Sharp. Deep. Followed by a second one.
Clank. Clank. Clank. (Hehehehe clank clank */Haruki)
The ground trembled softly, then again, then more insistently.
The Cerus turned, its jagged jaw twitching into a low, primal snarl.
Its glowing azure eyes locked onto the dense fog ahead.
Then, something pierced the mist.
A long, narrow tube slowly emerged first. The movement is unstable, as if it was swaying under its own weight. It kept extending, and behind it followed a sloped steel face, broad and flat.
The fog parted more, revealing a thing about the size of a small house, but made entirely of thick, rusted metal plates. The surface was battered, patched in places, its age and wear visible under the moonlight. The metal had a dull red-brown hue where rust had settled in, and the edges of its body were rough, bolted, and uneven.
Its shape was rhomboid from the side, with angled armor sloping from top to bottom. That long tube sat in the middle of its front plate, fixed rigidly forward.
It moved on two large, oblong tracks, one on each side, which dug into the ground with each slow roll. The mechanism behind them groaned and clanked, spewing puffs of black smoke from vents on its side.
The two monsters met face to face.
Inside the metal monster.
The hull groaned as the crude mechanical engine growled beneath them. Thick heat and smoke hung in the air, the scent of grease, iron, and burning oil clinging to every breath. Dim lamps swayed faintly with the vibration, their flickering light casting shadows on worn steel walls.
Captain Macthur stood near the gunner's viewing port, peering out through the narrow slit. His eyes were focused. The Cerus had entered the city, and its monstrous form loomed in the smoky distance.
He didn't speak right away.
On the main gun, Suther, the vice captain adjusted the elevation wheel. "Target is just beyond the breach. Holding aim. Waiting on your word, Captain."
Behind them, Old Garlan with his thick white beard now streaked with soot. He grunted as he hauled a single large shell toward the breech. The markings on its side shimmered faintly with faint mana trace lines.
He set it down with a dull metallic thud. "This one's special," he muttered. "Crafted by that mage girl… Leila, right?"
Macthur nodded without turning. "Seventy-five millimeter high-impact round, infused with condensed ether."
"Looks too damn elegant to be shoved inside a furnace like this," Garlan said, wiping his brow. "But I trust her hands."
"Good," Macthur replied, voice low. "Because we only have one."
Suther smirked faintly, still aiming. "Then we'll make the first one count."
From the rear compartment came the bark of the engineers.
"Pressure stable!"
"Left track correcting—momentum holding!"
The tank lurched slightly as the crude metal behemoth pressed forward, every bolt straining, every gear grinding.
Macthur placed a steady hand on the inner frame of the gun.
"This machine... forged from wreckage and desperation," he said, more to himself than the others. "Based on the old designs of Captain Tiger. The first of its kind. Never fired in real combat. And whoever that 'Saint Chamond' is, the name scribbled on the design paper, I swear I'll offer him a prayer."
Old Garlan pushed the round into place with a heavy clank, then sealed the breech shut with both hands. "Then let's show the Cerus what desperation looks like when it's wrapped in iron."
Macthur turned to Suther. "Fire only when I say."
Suther gave a single nod. "Locked and ready."
Macthur went back to the slit, watching the Cerus shifting in the haze beyond the shattered wall.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Let them hear the voice of steel."
*/ Hello! It's me the author! First of all thank you for reading this chapter! I know, for my readers there that it took me 3 months just to release a new chapter and I would like to apologize for the huge delay. Things didn't goes well for me from previous months. I lost my mom and my girlfriend so its tough times. But here I am again! I will try to release slowly but surely as I try to write again. If there's a degration on quality then I'm deeply sorry :< So yeah, thanks for reading and I hope for your continues support for this novel! And lastly...hehe I want to tease for possibly comic adaptation of this book, so stay in the loop! I love you guys! See you at next release!"