Around him a single sound rose up, boots, the clink of gear, the snarled assent of soldiers. "Sir, yes, sir!" they replied, resolve hardening into action.
"Attack!"
Macthur leapt from the tank, landing hard on the rubble below, and sprinted toward the wounded Cerus. The ground shook beneath his boots. The creature let out a distorted snarl and fired a volley of small, crystalline projectiles.
They shrieked through the air like jagged glass bullets, smashing through debris and sending sparks across the cobblestone. Macthur dodged and weaved between them, his greatsword flashing as he deflected a few that came too close. Each impact rang like a bell.
The closer he got, the faster the barrage came. Then he froze for a split second—he saw it. The Cerus's jaws split wide, light spilling from between its fangs.
"Damn it—!"
He dove backward just as a beam of azure mana tore through the space he had stood in, carving a molten line into the earth. The heat licked at his armor. The air sizzled. The street glowed blue like a river of light.
Even wounded, the Cerus was still a terror. Macthur gritted his teeth. "That thing's still got fight in it…" He raised his voice. "Try to get its attention! I'll flank it!"
"Roger that!" Suther called back. He steadied his breathing, drew his bow, and channeled mana into the arrow. The tip began to hum and burn with yellow light. His eyes locked on the beast's wounded flank, and he loosed.
The arrow streaked through the night, cutting the air with a hiss before burying itself deep into the Cerus's shoulder. It staggered but didn't fall.
Old Man Garlan took the front. Despite his age, his massive frame moved with raw power. He charged with his iron-spiked mace raised high. The Cerus swung its claw, the force of it splitting the air, but Garlan met it head-on. The impact cracked the ground beneath him, his boots sinking into the earth as he held firm.
"Grraaaagghhhh!" he roared, straining every muscle.
The engine operators, who had climbed from the wrecked tank, began chanting. Their hands glowed as they pressed them to the ground, weaving support magic that pulsed outward like a ripple of light. A golden aura enveloped Garlan.
"Blessing of Stone! Fortify the Guardian!" one shouted.
"Steel Heart, Iron Body!" echoed another.
The glow around Garlan intensified. With a bellow, he shoved the Cerus's claw aside, throwing its limb off balance. "Now, boy!" he yelled toward Suther.
Suther drew another arrow, mana surging through his arms. His eyes blazed gold as he met the Cerus's gaze. "You're not seeing anyone again."
He released the arrow, and mid-flight, it split into two beams of light. Both struck true—one for each of the Cerus's glowing azure eyes.
The monster howled, blinded, its cry splitting the air. It fired wild projectiles in every direction, gouging buildings and tearing the ground apart.
"Captain!" Suther shouted.
Macthur was already moving. He sprinted through the chaos, flanking around the beast as shards and debris erupted around him. Though blinded, the Cerus still sensed his mana presence. With a violent twist, it swung its spiked tail toward him.
Macthur's reflexes saved him—he jumped, flipping through the air, the tail whipping just below his boots. He landed in a crouch facing the monster head-on.
The creature thrashed and screamed, its cracked armor glowing faintly. Macthur saw his chance. With a burst of mana, he dashed forward, scaled its wounded flank, and climbed onto its back. The ground below shook with every movement, but he didn't stop.
Mana from the remaining combatants surged toward him, threads of light streaming through the air and wrapping around his body. His muscles tensed; his sword began to glow with violet light, its edge crackling with mana energy.
He jumped high, nearly ten meters into the air, the night wind screaming around him. For a heartbeat, time froze.
He muttered coldly, voice like iron,
"Return to the pit that birthed you."
Then he brought the sword down.
The blade ignited in a blinding violet blaze as he spun, the motion slicing through the air like a saw of light. The impact ripped through the Cerus's neck, shattering scales and crystal plating in a burst of azure and blood.
The creature screamed one final time, a sound that rattled bones and split the sky, before its massive head separated from its body. The ground trembled as it crashed down, a wave of dust and heat rolling through the ruined streets.
Steam hissed from its wounds. Its body twitched once, then stilled.
Captain Macthur landed beside the corpse, his blade dripping with cerulean ichor. He straightened slowly, breathing hard but steady, his eyes, glittering with the fierce resolve of a veteran, locked on the collapsed beast. The massive body of the Cerus lay still, its otherworldly glow fading into the dust.
The Captain of Manilia raised his bloodied sword, allowing the azure liquid to drip freely. He channeled a burst of mana into the blade, and a signal shot into the dark sky, flaring an unmistakable green—sector cleared.
Everything fell quiet again, the silence pressing down on the scorched cobblestones. Then, as the relief of seeing the monster's colossal head detached sank in, a wave of stunned realization washed over the combatants.
"We, we did it!" One soldier's voice cracked through the silence, raw with disbelief. That shout uncorked a dam of emotion. After decades of living in fear, believing that humanity was mere insect fodder to these creatures, the monster they thought unbeatable lay fallen. Because of sheer determination, desperate teamwork, and a single ingenious plan, they had brought down a Cerus by themselves. Everyone cheered; some wept openly, sinking to their knees in exhausted triumph. Vice Captain Suther and Old Man Garlan exchanged a small, weary smile, pride replacing the tension in their faces.
"This is our new beginning," Macthur declared, his voice ringing with hard-won victory.
However, amidst their celebration, the ground began to rattle again. The tremors started subtly, then intensified into a menacing thudding that drove all noise from the square. Everyone froze, their cheering dying in their throats as they glanced toward the wall breach. Through the drifting smoke and dust, their spines turned to ice: a pair of malevolent azure eyes emerged. Another Cerus.
Captain Macthur glanced at their wrecked tank, a smoldering, broken fortress lying just beyond the shattered wall. He knew: this time, they needed to face the next abomination without its mechanical might. It seemed impossible, but they had no choice. He moved forward, his imposing shadow falling across the rubble, and pointed his sword toward the new Cerus.
He spoke, his tone serious and unwavering: "All of you! All of you witnessed it just now—we killed that monster all by ourselves! But now, our warmachine is gone, yet we will still face it. So stand up, my men! We are going to hold this line with all of our lives! Our new savior, you also saw it, has the weapon we need. He's fighting there, and so are we. We are holding this line until he reaches us, dead or alive! Be brave, my men! All of you did enough! Now, we are going to fight again! And tomorrow, next month, next year, or even for the next decades, we will continue to fight until we eradicate them from our land!"
Although still struck by bone-deep fear, Macthur's men started to rise. They formed a defensive formation, weapons raised and teeth gritted in a terrifying display of collective will. Garlan and Suther walked to flank Macthur, their movements slow and heavy.
"This is going to be a long night," Garlan spoke, hefting his mace.
"Seems like it, Grandpa," Suther replied, drawing his bow.
The Cerus took another thunderous step forward, its obsidian scales catching the eerie light of the burning town. Macthur, his eyes sharp and steady, braced himself for the impending assault.