As the second phase of the battle began, Medici unleashed waves of flame toward the Abominations, buying his soldiers time to summon their weapons and prepare for a new formation. This time, it wasn't a half-circle but it was a spear, meant to pierce straight through the beasts' ranks.
Medici cleaved through the creatures, raising his greatsword to deflect a flying bone spear before releasing a swarm of fire ravens. Each raven exploded on impact, engulfing the monsters in blazing infernos.
Glancing back, he saw Nephis tending to the wounded Sleepers. Medici hadn't allowed her to fight on the front lines. When it came to pure destructive power, his output was already the highest, so there was no need for her to engage directly.
That was why Amon had advised that it would be better for Nephis to heal the injured Sleepers and send them back into battle. Sure, some Sleepers died in a single attack before they could be treated, but those with minor wounds were quickly brought back. If the injuries were left to accumulate, they would die from blood loss. Thanks to that strategy, far fewer Sleepers perished than expected.
Gritting his teeth, Medici ducked beneath a Centurion's scythe, the blade slicing through the air where his head had been. He leapt onto the creature's massive frame, driving his greatsword into its chitinous armor. Grabbing hold of a crack in the shell, he thrust his free hand forward and released a fireball from less than ten centimeters away. A storm of flames erupted, engulfing both him and the Centurion in searing heat.
But Medici had the advantage. His natural resistance to fire, enhanced by the Mantle of the Underworld dulled the damage. With a roar, he punched through the creature's flesh, then swung his greatsword to deflect another incoming scythe. Launching himself off the Centurion's head, he used it as a stepping stone to strike at another beast just as the first exploded in a delayed burst of blood and fire.
At the same time, Seishan commanded the artisans to release another wave of flaming boulders. The catapults snapped, launching massive rocks into the heavens, only for them to descend with horrifying speed.
BOOM!
Explosions tore through the middle of the Terror's legion, shaking the ground and Medici seized the moment.
"Forward! Don't give them a chance to reorganize!"
The Sleepers followed his command, pressing the attack without mercy. Flames and blood consumed the battlefield as they cut down the wounded beasts before they could rise.
Those struck by poisoned arrows grew sluggish, exhaustion seeping deep into their bones. Their movements slowed, and that was all the Sleepers needed to finish them.
But what truly caught Medici's, and everyone else's attention was Luna.
She dashed forward, forming a cloak of flesh to shield another Sleeper from a Scavenger's strike, then leapt onto the monstrous crab's back. Thrusting her arm into its jaws, she hardened her flesh, reshaping her other arm into a blade, and severed the one trapped between the beast's teeth. Then she leapt off its back, rolled across the ground, and detonated a flesh-and-blood bomb inside its body.
The Scavenger's insides erupted with a booming sound as the bomb went off, melting its organs into sludge under the corrosive acid.
Next...
The Sleeper she had saved looked up at her with horror as Luna absorbed the fallen beast's flesh, reforming her missing arm before dashing forward again. Her body melted like wax into the crimson coral beneath her feet and disappearing, knly to reappear behind a Carapace Demon.
Sensing the disturbance, the Demon swung its massive sword, seemingly cleaving Luna in half but what followed was not what it expected. Her body had softened, turning into a boneless mass of rotten flesh.
She slipped from the blade's edge, reforming mid-motion, her body hardening once again. Her arms mutated into twisted gauntlets as she struck with brutal force, cracking the Demon's chitin and staggering it backward.
Just fucking die...
Luna's expression remained calm and focused, her movements mechanical, as if operating in a state of pure, ruthless efficiency. Yet beneath that stillness, she still felt pain. She was still afraid. But all of it was drowned in madness.
Before the Demon could retaliate, Luna's body melted once more into a pool of flesh and blood that surged into its mouth.
The Demon froze, then exploded into a rain of gore.
Luna fell from its shattered torso, hitting the blood-soaked ground with a grunt. She rolled instinctively, narrowly avoiding a Centurion's descending scythe, then rose to her feet and hurled a flesh-and-blood bomb straight into its face.
Who's next... She thought, ignoring the centurion, not caring to watch its death, and rushed toward another beast. A silver lance formed in her hand, and she drove it into the iron spider's back, pulverizing its body in a single, brutal strike.
Noticing a bone spear hurtling toward her, Luna raised the lance, deflecting it with a clang that rattled her bones. Her muscles tensed; she reinforced her skeleton and hardened her flesh before hurling the weapon with terrifying speed. The lance pierced the next creature's torso, and its upper body burst apart in a fountain of blood and shredded viscera.
More… more… more... shit! she cursed inwardly as crimson flowers sprouted from the gaping wounds of the corpse. Infection...
She held her breath, wrapped the body in a flesh cloak, and flung it clear of the battlefield. If anyone inhaled the pollen, they'd be finished, turned into hosts for those parasitic blooms.
All around her, the bodies of humans and Nightmare Creatures were entangled into an undulating, bleeding, roaring mess. Claws and steel weapons rose and fell, sending streams of blood, splinters of bone, and chunks of flesh to the ground. Screams of fear, pain, and fury mixed with the indescribable howling of the nightmare horde into a cacophonous litany of death.
And then, she noticed Effie. The boisterous Huntress was drowning in monsters, barely holding on beneath a wall of claws and teeth. Gemma wasn't faring any better, his regeneration couldn't keep up with the rate his body was being torn apart.
"Damn it! Damn it all! I'm so tired of these bastards… How long do I have to keep fighting?"
Gritting her teeth, Luna melted into the ground and reappeared beside Effie in a blur. She wrapped her in a flesh cloak, shielding her from the blows, then kicked her clear of the horde.
Then she turned back toward the beasts.
A scavenger's pincer came crashing down, but Luna softened her body, letting the blow sink in before retaliating with a vicious counter. Her pale crown gleamed faintly under the blood-red sunset as she drove her fist through the creature's chest.
But before she could finish it, a centurion's scythe slashed through the air and bit deep into her shoulder, almost cutting her in half. Luna's eyes widened, then narrowed. With a pained look, she hardened and rearranged her bones, locking the blade inside her body to stop it from cleaving her entirely.
"It fucking hurts, you cunt..."
Pain shot through her nerves, her expression twisting with agony and madness. The next instant, a bone spear pierced her stomach, tearing through flesh and muscle.
I'm dying… It hurts… And I'm so tired…
She could feel herself slipping away. There was no way out. I'm going to die…
Snarling, Luna reached for the centurion's scythe, keeping it trapped inside her, and used her flesh creek once again. Her body melted into the centurion's open wound, vanishing inside it like a living infection.
A few seconds later, its insides detonated. Bones disintegrated; its chitin collapsed like wax under fire. A torrent of blood and liquefied flesh poured from its mouth, until it slithered together again, reshaping into Luna.
Haaaaa... Haaaaa...
She dropped to one knee, panting, blood running down her face. Her body trembled violently, but her eyes burned, wild and alive, caught between agony and ecstasy.
Pizdets... I'm going to... No. Not yet. I need to use it at the right moment.
Luna forced her mind to focus, snapping out of her daze.
When she looked around, she realized she had somehow returned to the front lines. Medici burned a gorgon-like beast to ash, leaping back beside her, his black armor dripping with blood.
"Hey, you good?" he shouted, voice uncertain. His expression, though, said everything. What the fuck!? She's terrifying… How many beasts has she killed already? A hundred? More?
Even Medici was horrified, and he wasn't alone. Everyone who had caught sight of Luna's battle was shaken to the core. Her fighting style was monstrous and inhuman. She seemed utterly unconcerned with her own survival, obsessed only with butchering the enemy.
But even in their fear, they couldn't deny the truth: Luna's kill count was the highest. She had saved dozens of Sleepers, supported the entire army through her Crown, and always appeared where the fighting was at its worst. It was like she wasn't just part of the line... But she was the line. The foundation holding the army together.
Luna looked up at Medici, her face splattered with blood, chewing a chunk of monster flesh like it was nothing.
"Where's Amon?"
Medici almost dropped his weapon but quickly caught it and blocked a scavenger's strike, hurling a flaming spear through its chest.
"Seriously? What are you, Sakura?"
Luna spat the flesh aside with a disgusted look, her irritation clear.
"Tastes like shit… Scavengers are better."
She lifted her hands, gathering the corpses' remains. All around her, flesh and blood twisted into dozens of bombs. Luna's gaze locked on the Legion of Abominations as she breathed heavily.
Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and aimed, then hurled them forward. Flesh and blood bombs detonated midair, raining corrosive acid over the enemy ranks. The beasts shrieked, their bodies melting into slop as Luna snapped her shoulder back into place and regenerated the torn flesh. After composing herself, she turned her attention back on Medici.
"The fuck are you talking about?" she shot back. "Look up. The Messengers are here, it's his turn to act, or the whole plan's screwed."
Medici blinked, then lifted his gaze.
High above, a massive winged creature tore through the clouds. Its pale body was streaked with blood, its black feathers matted and wet. When its beak opened, rows of needle-like fangs glistened inside, framing a long, red tongue.
The thing was grotesque, a fusion of lion and raven. Its corpse-pale hide rippled with steel-like muscle. Two massive hind legs anchored its frame, while six more limbs jutted out from its chest, each tipped with claws sharp enough to tear steel. Its jagged black beak glimmered like obsidian.
And worst of all... There wasn't just one.
"Shit," Medici hissed, eyes narrowing. Time was running out. The sun was already sinking beyond the horizon, the sky bleeding crimson. He looked down, noticing that dark water was rising slowly, and a curse escaped his lips, his expression growing more irritated.
If they didn't finish soon… they would either be slaughtered by the Messengers or dragged into the depths of the Dark Sea by its dwellers.
But then, every expression on the battlefield changed, unease giving way to shock, and then to despair.
The sky darkened.
From the gray clouds above, countless Nightmare Creatures poured down like a living storm, their descent was like a spiraling column of black mass that stretched from heaven to earth. It was as if a colossal tornado had come alive.
Kai saw it first. He was still commanding the archers, his hands bloody from drawing and loosing arrows for two hours straight. He paled, scratching the back of his head with trembling fingers.
Well… that isn't good, he thought, then sighed.
"Skyward squads! Aim high!" he shouted.
At this point, half the Sleepers were supposed to shift their focus to the skies. But most were too consumed by the chaos on the ground to hear him.
Kai grimaced.
And then his voice rose again; clear, enchanting, and impossibly loud. It cut through the clash of steel, the roaring of beasts, and the dying screams of men:
"Skyward! Squads! Aim high!"
The Sleepers snapped out of their daze at the sound of his voice. Then they looked up, and froze.
Above them, countless flying Abominations blotted out the heavens, their dark shapes writhing like a living storm. A shiver ran down their spines.
But fear was quickly replaced by grim determination. They steeled their hearts and raised their bows. Draw. Aim. Shoot... Draw. Aim. Shoot... Repeat... Again. Repeat... Again, again and again.
More and more beasts were struck down, raining from the sky like black comets and crashing onto the iron net.
Slowly, the corpses piled up,layer upon layer until the vast net above the formation began to sag under their weight. The groan of straining metal echoed through the battlefield, low and ominous, like the growl of something waking beneath the earth.
Kai's expression turned grim, his body tensing as he glanced toward the sky. Then he gritted his teeth and vanished from the coral-covered ground.
Now or never…
If he didn't act, the mass of sharp iron wires and the crushing weight of countless carcasses would collapse upon the survivors below, burying them alive.
And he was the only one capable of cutting the iron net fast enough to prevent that fate.
Faster… faster… I need to reach it before it's too late…
He pushed himself harder, essence flaring, the world around him blurring... Then froze mid-air.
Wait… what is that?
Kai's eyes widened in disbelief. Apparently, there was no need for him to cut the wires. Someone... Or rather, something had already done it.
But unlike him, that something had a very different plan.
Instead of preventing the corpses from falling… it had deliberately made them fall.
Looking down, Kai finally understood what Amon had meant earlier by "snowing."
Only… the snowflakes weren't made of ice.
They were the giant, mangled carcasses of nightmare creatures, plummeting from above like grotesque meteors.
The echo of the Spire Messenger that Amon controlled screeched across the sky, dragging the colossal iron net in its talons. High above, Raven mirrored the movement, his monstrous wings beating against the storm of dust and blood.
Two horrifying silhouette strained against the weight of hundreds of corpses entangled in the net's web of crimson wires. The air shuddered with their effort, the net groaning under the pull.
It wouldn't hold. The balance was off.
Raven screeched. "Damn it!"
But then his four eyes glinted, as if a light bulb had turned on, and his essence ignited from the depths of his very soul. Twenty illusory clones burst from him, and dark feathers rained down from the sky.
Each clone dove, seizing a different corner of the net. In perfect synchrony, they tilted the monstrous web, turning it into a sliding ramp.
And just as Amon had predicted, the corpses of the hideous Abominations began to cascade downward like an avalanche of flesh, tumbling toward the battlefield below.
Except… they didn't fall on the human army.
Every carcass, every shard of bone, every drop of blood... All of it rained down precisely on the Terror's legion, crushing them under the weight of their own dead.
The ground shook, and deafening screams echoed across the battlefield. Flesh and chitin exploded on impact. Locusts burst into a red mist; stone-like golems were crushed to dust… For a moment, it truly was snowing corpses. It was a horrifying sight to behold.
"Shit," Raven muttered, his voice filled with delight. "It worked. That twink's insane plan actually worked."
From afar, Medici watched all of this with a stunned expression. He knew it could happen, Amon had already explained the plan but seeing it unfold was still shocking. His role was to monitor the sky, and the moment the giant Raven and Cursed Herald flew toward the iron net, the Dreamer army would advance with all their might, cutting through the disoriented monsters and pushing straight toward the entrance of the Crimson Spire before the corpses fell… and it worked perfectly.
Beside him, Luna looked up and smiled faintly, her expression easing as she let out a sigh of relief.
Half of the legion was gone. Amon's trap had truly worked… though it was a little unsettling just how easily he could deceive the monsters...
Amon watched the chaos unfold from his vantage point, his expression far from pleased as a frown creased his face. Not everything had gone exactly as he calculated. The overall plan had worked, but… without being able to communicate with Raven telepathically, the chances of success would have been much lower.
Amon wasn't proud of it, he was a coward, after all. So he didn't like it when the odds weren't in his favor or when something didn't go according to plan.
Still… that was fine. He was still in control of the situation. Through decryption, divination, and the knowledge from the novel, he had made this plan work.
He had known of the Crimson Terror's goal, its plan to bury both armies beneath a corpses and iron. But instead of interfering, Amon had simply… allowed it. He let the monster believe it held control, feeding its arrogance, letting it dance on the strings he had woven.
And when the perfect moment came, he pulled those strings taut… Wait, im not Dreamweaver, though.
Amon smiled faintly, a bit amused by his own ridiculous thoughts, mostly to keep from dwelling on just how scared shitless he really was.
Still… even though Amon thought he had made many mistakes and that his plan wasn't perfect after seeing it unfold, that didn't mean it hadn't worked. Under his command, Raven and the Spire Messenger struck the net, severing the iron wires at precise points. Then, following his instructions, Raven's clones tilted the net, turning it into a massive sliding ramp that sent the mountains of carcasses crashing down upon the Legion of Abominations...
What was meant to be the monsters' victory became their burial ground… so it still worked.
Medici didn't waste the opportunity. The Dreamer army, having pierced through the monster ranks, now attacked from behind while the artisans, Handmaidens and archers led by Seishan rained arrows and projectiles from the fortified camp.
The Nightmare Creatures were being slaughtered from both sides; caught in a perfect, inescapable trap.
But Amon knew the plan's weakness. If the monsters ignored Medici and attacked the vulnerable archers and artisans… well, things would get ugly.
Luckily, he had predicted how the Terror would move. The corpses now formed a mountain of flesh, it was like a barricade that blocked any path toward the camp.
From atop the heaps, Handmaidens hurled spears, their expressions cold and piercing as they continued slaughtering Abominations, while the archers loosed volley after volley, the sky above flashing with fire and steel.
But as always, no plan survives contact with reality. The archers' quivers were running dry. the Spire Messengers, sensing an opening, now swooped down like black meteors, aiming directly for the Dreamer army.
Amon's eyes flicked to the giant bird at his side, its feathers slick with blood and ash. Apparently, Raven could control his size. Transformation was a really useful ability, it didn't just allow that damn chicken to change species, but also its size.
Amon exhaled, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile.
"Destroy the Spire Messengers," he ordered softly. "You, Kai, and Echo can handle that much. And pay attention to my commands. Everything has to go exactly as I planned."
Raven's eyes darted skyward, watching as his clones were ripped apart by the Messengers' claws. His wings trembled slightly from the chills he was getting from sight.
"Shit… Fine. But you'd better keep your promise."
Amon nodded solemnly.
"Sure. I'll make sure you meet the woman. But if she doesn't let you hit, that's not my fault."
Raven's beak clicked, and he gave a sharp, almost comical caw.
"Bet!"
A short distance away, Gunlaug, Harus, and Caster were watching this strange exchange between Amon and a massive bird, and the sight did nothing to calm their nerves.
We're so dead… Gunlaug thought grimly.
Meh. It was a good run, I guess… Harus sighed.
If I'm dying, at least let me spread my arms while running… shit, Caster muttered under his breath.
Amon stared at the sky, his expression dark.
Shit. I really want to ditch them right now… he thought. Cowardice isn't even bad, it's just self-awareness. And my self-awareness is screaming that without plot armor, I'm dead.
He exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath,
"Alright, Lady Spell… I'm counting on you. Ask your big bro fate to bless me, because I'm running out of miracles."