Soon after Nephis notified Amon, the artificial sun was already high above, its bleak orange light washing over the battlefield. It was afternoon now. The glow was both comforting and horrifying to the Sleepers below, a reminder that time was slipping away.
Many of them looked at Amon with barely hidden bitterness and hatred. He couldn't blame them, the plan was insane, and the stakes higher than ever. After all, they had exactly three hours to finish this battle.
The numbers didn't look good either. Three thousand abominations against seven hundred Sleepers. Amon realized he had made a slight miscalculation. Since the Crimson Terror couldn't summon nightmare creatures from the city, it had started subjugating the monsters of the Dark Sea instead.
What truly broke the Sleepers' morale, though, was the timing. The Dark Sea would rise in three hours. If they were even a little late, they would drown and be shredded apart by the Depth Dwellers.
To them, Amon's strategy was madness. A gamble that risked everything. Sure, in a head-on clash they would suffer heavy casualties, but at least some would definitely survive. This plan? It offered no guarantees. Either many would live… or all would die.
Despair and resentment rippled through the ranks. Some Sleepers stared at the horizon with hollow eyes, while others gripped their weapons with quiet fury.
Luna sighed, shaking her head. They didn't understand. Amon's plan, reckless as it seemed, was their only real chance to avoid catastrophic losses. If they followed his instructions, hundreds might survive, not just a handful like in the novel she remembered.
Amon wanted to save as many as he could. Even if it wasn't possible, he had to try.
Nephis, however, wasn't entirely reassured. Not because of the odds… but because of one simple, maddening question lingering in her mind:
Why the hell was he still talking to that raven?
She glanced at him once more, baffled, before forcing the thought away. The horizon was darkening and the abominations were coming.
All kinds of horrors were crawling out of abyss. There were members of the carapace legion: scavengers, centurions, and demons. There were colonies of carnivorous worms, giant centipedes that secreted corrosive oil, and eerie vines that crawled on the ground like snakes.
There were creatures that looked like black masses of rotten bones, and creatures that looked like humanoids made of rock, with terrible maws full of jagged fangs. There were swarms of translucent insects that devoured everything in their path and massive spiders clad in iron armor.
There were beasts that could shoot deadly bone spears from their bodies and beasts that could turn their prey to stone with their gaze.
There were corpses with red flowers growing from the holes in their flesh and giant abominations that resembled praying mantises, if those were made of glass and bloodred clay.
So many nightmare creatures of higher rank gathered that even the bravest Sleepers felt a chill crawl down their spines. Despair began to spread like a silent fog, until Medici appeared.
He stepped out from the jagged protrusion of crimson coral, standing high above the battlefield like a general... Well, he was a general.
For a long moment, he simply observed the oncoming horde in silence. Then, a wide grin split his face.
The sight of it made a handful of Sleepers flinch.
"What are you afraid of?" Medici asked, his tone was calm but there was a hint of anger visible in the depth of his crimson eyes.
His voice carried across the field, resonant and sharp. The hunters in front of him straightened almost instinctively, some even chuckling. That was the effect of Medici's presence, the aura of a conqueror. Those who followed him were arrogant, fierce, and proud.
But the others, like the slum dwellers were different. They weren't strong enough to carry that same arrogance, nor brave enough to face what was coming on their own. Their eyes didn't look to Medici for strength. They looked toward Nephis.
That was the difference between them.
Medici gave his followers pride and glory. Nephis gave hers faith and salvation.
Those who followed her lacked confidence in themselves but possessed unshakable trust in her.
Nearby, artisans worked in silence, their faces pale as they loaded the siege engines. Even the Handmaidens stood still and expressionless, unreadable as statues, their thoughts hidden behind cold masks.
Then Medici's gaze shifted, landing on the strangest group of all.
Gunlaug was drinking… What the hell? Medici thought in disbelief as he saw him secretly sipping wine.
At the same time, Caster and Harus were whispering intently about something serious, completely ignoring the growing tension. If Medici knew that Harus was actually arguing with Caster about a card game… he would have lost his mind.
Aiko peeked out from behind Kai, who looked equal parts helpless and slightly afraid of battle.
And Amon…
Medici blinked, his grin replaced by a frown. My dear friend… he thought, baffled. Why exactly are you talking to a raven?
Yes, Amon was arguing with Raven, while the bird slapped his cheek with its wings and cawed furiously.
What the fuck?
Medici sighed. He decided he didn't want to know, and laughed, more to bolster his soldiers' confidence than from any real amusement. There was nothing truly funny about this situation, even for someone like him who thrived on conflict and battle.
From blinding white sparks, a greatsword materialized in his hand, and he rested it casually on his shoulder.
"There's no need to fear," he said, his tone almost casual as he glanced at the approaching legion of beasts, his eyes glimmering with contempt. "Those nightmare creatures may take pride in outnumbering us… but my heart sees only a field of corpses... Filthy beasts are already dead."
His smile faded, his expression growing colder and more serious as he overlooked his soldiers.
"The only reason a soldier lives is to fight! And the only reason he fights is to taste victory! So tell me why you are afraid?!"
The echo of his voice rolled across the battlefield, shaking the hearts of the Sleepers. Their fear faltered, replaced by something else: grim resolve, burning determination and hunger for battle. Though, It was mostly his subordinates who felt this way; others remained afraid.
Perhaps it was natural. After all, Medici was the Red Priest, and hunters existed in constant conflict.
They would never stop until seas ran red and mountains of corpses rose. From such countless wars and bloodshed, the Red Priest would finally be born.
"Follow me!" Medici shouted, raising his sword toward the bleak sky. "Follow me, and I will let you taste victory! Follow me, and I will show you the way, a future where we bathe in the blood of these pathetic animals!"
For a few seconds, there was only grim silence and the roars of approaching creatures. And then-
"Blood Emperor!"
"Blood Emperor!"
"Blood Emperor!"
Hundreds of Sleepers slammed swords against shields, their bloodthirsty expressions radiating cold, murderous intent.
Medici nodded in acknowledgment, his dark armor gleaming beneath the orange sunlight.
"Those who know me, know me!" he said coldly. "And those who don't… remember this: I am the Blood Son of Heaven, and I have never tasted defeat."
The meaning was clear. Medici didn't intend to taste defeat today, or ever.
Amon hid his face behind his palm, giggling to himself. Raven cawed on his shoulder. To everyone else, it sounded like a normal bird noise, but in Amon's head, the words hit loud and clear.
"Shit, this is cinematic as hell," the raven grumbled. "But why does it feel like we're all about to die? Don't get me wrong, I get the hype, but… you know? It's giving 300 Spartans vibes, and that's worrying."
Amon shook his head, stifling his laughter.
"It's fine."
Raven blinked, two of his four eyes closing in confusion.
"Huh? What do you mean by that? And why are you laughing?"
Amon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but still couldn't resist bursting into laughter.
"I wrote… that, haha…"
Raven tilted his head, confused. Then he closed his eyes, delving into Amon's memories. Within seconds, all four of his eyes widened as he let out a cackle.
"What the fuck? Kek… you really wrote a script? Kekeke."
Amon's mouth curled into a smirk as he crossed his arms.
"Can't let bro lose even more aura, he's in generational debt."
"Valid," Raven nodded. "But the situation's still concerning. Those guys seem… muscle-brained."
Amon glanced at him, unimpressed. Raven raised his wings like a peace sign.
"I'm just saying, dude… there's still time to ditch-"
"Not happening," Amon said, his expression blank.
"Fine! Shit…" Raven muttered. And then, much to Amon's disbelief...
Ptrtrr!
He shit on Amon's shoulder.
Amon felt an overwhelming urge to boil the damned chicken for dinner, but he kept his composure, stole it from his shoulder, and tossed it aside to keep his clothes clean.
But as the horde of abominations surged like a tidal wave from the horizon, Amon felt his pulse hammer in the back of his throat. All the humor drained from his face. The truth was, he was scared shitless. His hands were slick with sweat, his breathing thin and uneven. The Crimson Terror's legion was a sight meant to unnerve even the bravest man.
Beside him, Aiko hissed and ducked behind Kai's back, her wide eyes darting toward Amon.
"Boss… what do we do?"
"I…" He inhaled sharply, forcing his voice to steady. "My brother used to say that there are only two powers in the world."
The others glanced at him, exchanging puzzled looks. Amon had always been strange, but this... This was stranger. Aiko hadn't asked because she expected a speech; she was scared and needed reassurance. Instead, her boss was talking to a bird and quoting philosophy in the middle of the battle.
Amon locked eyes with Medici, Luna, Gemma, Nephis, and the other heavy hitters readying for battle.
"Those two powers," he began, his voice calm despite the chaos, "are the sword and the mind. But… in the long run, the sword is always beaten by the mind."
He closed his eyes for a moment, the memory folding around him like an old, worn cloak.
"That's what Lazare used to say. You know? He studied philosophy, so lil' bro always had an answer for everything." A faint smile appeared on his face. "Point is, humans are weak. But we're also the most wicked shits walking this earth. We didn't sit at the top of the food chain because of strength, but because of intellect. Those who sacrifice wit for muscle get destroyed."
He opened his eyes again, a cold gleam cutting through the fear.
"And today, the Crimson Terror dies… because she's a mindless bitch."
They stared at Amon with blank, unreadable faces. What he said made sense, disturbingly so, but for some reason, everyone looked even more concerned now.
Mostly because the last time Amon started talking about philosophy, or any other kind of bullshit, an entire city ended up scorched.
So there was no telling what the hell was about to happen this time.
Raven squinted at him for a long moment, then muttered a curse under his breath, trying to scrape together a bit of courage for what was coming.
Because in the next instant, the waves of Abominations crashed against the first line.
Medici watched the battle with a calculated gaze. He had personally instructed the artisans to forge heavy, reinforced shields. There was no need for any flashy enchantments; all he needed were shields durable enough to withstand the strikes of the nightmare creatures. That was all he asked for.
And now, his idea was working. Effie and Gemma led the shield-bearers, holding firm as the horde crashed against their line. The creatures struck with maddened fury, but the formation did not falter. Each shield was designed for Sleepers with combat-type Aspects, those gifted with raw strength and unyielding endurance.
For one hour, they had to endure without striking back. For one hour, they would be the wall between life and annihilation.
Gemma slammed his shield into the ground, bracing himself as the Centurion raised its massive scythe and brought it down in a vicious arc. Each impact sent shockwaves rippling through his body, the force trembling in his bones before dispersing into the earth beneath his feet. His frame groaned under the strain but he held. Despite the crushing pressure, Gemma endured.
Effie glanced at him, jaw clenched. She almost joked that she'd never imagined fighting side by side with Gemma, but one look at him silenced the thought. He was locked in the storm, defending against the fiercest of the beasts, his bones cracking, muscles screaming in protest yet he refused to yield. Each wound closed almost as soon as it opened, his body regenerating as he stood like an indomitable wall, chanting in his mind without pause.
Then, with a roar, he raised his shield and smashed it down on the scavenger, shattering its chitinous shell.
"They can break my bones and tear my flesh to shreds a thousand times," he growled through gritted teeth. "The Grace of the Great Mother is with me… and thus, I will endure a thousand more."
Behind the first line, supporting the shield-bearers, were sleepers wielding long spears. Each shieldman had two spearmen behind them, piercing the flesh of the creatures, thrusting and pulling relentlessly. Blood sprayed, and the loud howls of beasts echoed across the battlefield.
Rodrick was one of those spearmen. He watched as Effie held her shield against the assault of a Carapace Centurion. Its vile scythe came down, trying to cleave her shield in half, but before it could strike, Rodrick thrust his spear forward, piercing its flesh, then pulled back as Effie slammed her shield against the centurion's chitinous shell.
Using his Aspect, Rodrick sharpened his spear, making it even more lethal and insidious, its penetrating power raising as he drove it into a crack in the Centurion's armor. The monster shrieked in agony, but before it could retaliate, Rodrick and his partner struck again, piercing its eye and ending its life.
Exhilaration flooded through him as the spell confirmed the kill. He grinned, his movements turning almost mechanical as he thrust and pulled his spear with ruthless precision. Blood and gore drenched him from head to toe, but a faint smile still played on his lips. He thrust again, the spear whistling through the air, then he and his partner gripped it together and wrenched it free.
It's kinda fun, Rodrick thought with a small smile. Then his brow furrowed. For some reason, that thought didn't feel… reasonable. Meh, maybe I'm overthinking.
He shook off the unease and plunged back into the slaughter, ignoring his 'not so stable' mental state.
Medici observed the front lines. Good...the first and second lines were performing perfectly, slowly forming a half-circle to trap the beasts and slaughter them.
Noticing the shield-bearers gradually luring the enemy back, Medici smiled in satisfaction and raised his fist high into the air. The Archers noticed the gesture and held their breath, waiting for the Blood Emperor's command. Then, he let his fist fall.
In that moment, valleys of arrows tore through the sky, soaring high before plummeting down with incredible speed. Yet there was something strange about them. The instant the arrows pierced the beasts' flesh, even if they didn't kill, their movements grew sluggish and disorganized. It was as though exhaustion seeped into their veins, draining them faster than nature allowed.
All the arrows had been drenched in poison. Amon's arsenal of Memories was staggering, and he was prepared for nearly any situation. For this strike, he had used the Jar of Hundred Poisons to coat the arrowheads. It might not kill a monster with a single shot, but as wounds accumulated, their fall was inevitable.
Still, it was called the Jar of Hundred Poisons for a reason. There were a hundred kinds of venom inside it, and not all of them worked. That was why Luna came up with a rather... disturbing idea. As they marched toward the Crimson Spire, she began cutting the limbs from the monsters to experiment on them, trying to learn which poison worked best.
The results were disappointing, not a single toxin could end the life of the Carapace Legion's beasts. Yet Luna didn't stop. She kept experimenting, until she discovered something even better than death itself. A poison that didn't killed… but drained their stamina.
That was how Amon filled the containers with the Centurions' and Scavengers' blood. Luna kept them alive for as long as she needed, and once she achieved satisfying results, she killed them. Amon then drained their bodies and stored the blood for later use.
Behind the first and second lines stood those with sorcerous Aspects. While the archers rained arrows from above, the third line unleashed bolts of energy, flames, and lightning. Their attacks were precise, aimed at the beasts capable of ranged retaliation.
Some of the creatures in the Legion were especially dangerous. Some spat acid, others hurled bone spears, and a few could turn their prey to stone with a single gaze, like gorgons. That was why the sorcerers focused on them first, they were far more lethal than the rest of the Terror's Legion.
Casualties remained low, and Medici controlled the battlefield with impressive precision. Each line supported the others, and his strategy unfolded flawlessly. Only a few sleepers died, those unable to withstand the relentless attacks of the beasts and who faltered, leaving gaps in the first line.
Fortunately, Gemma and Effie quickly commanded the killing of scavengers and filled the breach in the first line.
Medici glanced back at the siege engines, frowning as his eyes swept over the approaching beasts. Come, come, come… he thought. He needed to lure them in. And than... Now!
A trumpet blared across the battlefield, its echo washing over every beast and human. Then, everyone looked up in wide-eyed astonishment and horror. It didn't matter if they were man or monster, for the heavens were weeping. But instead of water, flames rained down.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
In seconds, the battlefield transformed into a fiery, scorching hell. Medici let his fist fall once more, and the trumpet sounded again. Catapults snapped, hurling flaming boulders into the sky; they fell with such a speed and intensity that the crimson coral covering the ground cracked and exploded.
Medici smiled, satisfied by the carnage, and glanced at Seishan beside him, patting her shoulder.
"I'm entrusting this to you. Do as Amon said."
Seishan nodded curtly as Medici leapt from his vantage point. At the same moment, the shield-bearers slammed their shields against the beasts one final time, then released them and summoned their weapons, ready for the next stage.
The second phase of the battle had begun.
***
[A/N: Well, the battle has started! Seriously, I felt hyped up for this battle. I tried to be as strategic as I could, so I hope it was satisfying. Seriously, I'm even more hyped because of what Amon is planning. And, well, Luna's really enjoying herself, girl's dissecting and experimenting on monsters, lol. There's not much more to say here. I may have forgotten some things to mention, so sorry about that.
That's it for now, guys. Enjoy the meal.
P.S. – Gemma's a goat]
***