Several waves of attacks had already crashed against their defenses. The formation still stood, but the strain was beginning to show. The circle that once seemed unbreakable now felt fragile, as if the next push could shatter it completely.
Among the pack of demons pressing in, one stood out—a lanky creature with green skin and jagged fangs. Unlike the others who charged straight ahead, this one crouched low and dug into the mud with both hands and feet, slinking forward like a twisted beast. Each time it shifted left or right, its movements became harder to track. The defenders couldn't predict which direction it would spring from.
Its low posture forced the team to lower their stances as well. That tiny adjustment was enough to create openings. Compared to upright demons that attacked head-on, this crawling predator was far more dangerous.
Suddenly, the demon lunged forward, throwing its weight into a pounce. A panicked swordsman in the outer ring reacted on instinct. He slashed at the ground, sparks flying as the Nichirin Blade cut into dirt.
But it was a feint. The demon veered away in a flash, twisting toward a different swordsman on the left.
The change was so sudden that both defenders froze for a split second. The swordsman on the left tried to bring his blade up in time, but his swing was clumsy and desperate.
The crawling demon closed in, its claws gleaming. Just as the swordsman stumbled backward, another demon barreled in from the opposite side.
Two demons. Two directions. One striking low, the other slashing high. Their movements overlapped by chance, but the coordination was perfect.
The two swordsmen hesitated. They wanted to attack, but their blades risked cutting into each other. If they held back, the demons would break through. In that moment of hesitation, the circle faltered.
It was like a rope pulled tight—once one section snapped, the weight dragged everything else down with it.
The demons lunged. The circle tore.
Gasps rippled through the formation.
Everyone knew what this meant. If the gap wasn't sealed immediately, the horde outside would flood in.
Some defenders tried to rush to the breach. Others deeper inside the circle panicked and pushed forward as well. The carefully maintained formation threatened to collapse entirely.
The demons noticed too. They shrieked with bloodlust and surged forward like waves crashing against a dam.
"Hold the line! Don't break formation!"
Kimura's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. But the panic was spreading too quickly.
Screams tore through the night as two swordsmen went down.
The demons pounced immediately, bodies swarming over their fallen prey. The shrill death cries cut through the battlefield, piercing deeper than any blade.
The sound wasn't human anymore. It was a scream dragged straight from hell, a sound that froze the spine and shattered resolve.
Kimura's heart clenched, but his instincts screamed at him to act. "If they keep panicking, we're finished."
He forced a deep breath, then shouted, "Everyone, stop running! Outer circle, return to your positions now! Hold back the others! Inner circle, close the breach! The rest of you, pull the injured out immediately!"
His words struck like a hammer. The chaos stilled for a heartbeat, then shifted. The team began to move with purpose again, no longer scrambling blindly.
The outer defenders sprinted back into place, blades flashing as they forced back the encroaching demons. Inside, swordsmen stepped forward to fill the opening, locking shoulders and raising their weapons together.
Kimura wasted no time. He dashed straight at the two demons who had broken in. With three others by his side, he slashed at the first.
The Nichirin Blade carved across its neck, severing its head in one clean arc. The body collapsed in spasms.
The second demon snarled and lunged away, using the chaos to flee.
Kimura glanced back—one of the fallen swordsmen lay with lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky. A gaping hole had been ripped into his throat. Blood bubbled faintly before trickling into the dirt. He was gone.
Kimura ground his teeth. There was no time to grieve. "Reform! Don't let them in again!"
Gradually, the formation steadied. With the breach closed, the Demons lost their momentum. Their shrieks grew weaker, and one by one they withdrew into the treeline.
The battlefield grew quiet, but only on the surface.
Three corpses lay sprawled near the edge of the clearing. Blood soaked into the earth, staining the air with the stench of iron. A demon crouched over one of the bodies, claws digging into the chest cavity.
It ripped free a glistening organ and devoured it in one bite. Another Demon lifted a severed head and tossed it playfully between its hands, like a child with a toy ball.
The sight hollowed the hearts of the surviving swordsmen. Relief mingled with dread—yes, the wave had been repelled, but at what cost? And everyone knew the next assault would be worse.
Kimura barked orders quickly. "Rotate! Outer circle switch with inner! Don't let anyone burn out!"
The exhausted fighters staggered back, replaced by fresher blades. A few women moved between them, hastily wrapping wounds and handing out canteens of water.
But the air remained heavy. One corpse still lay in the circle, eyes wide, staring into nothing. Some whispered that leaving it there was dangerous, that it would invite despair. But none dared suggest discarding it.
"He died protecting us. If we throw him away like trash… what happens when the next one of us falls?"
No one voiced the thought aloud, but everyone felt it. To abandon a comrade's body was to abandon hope itself.
Time crept on.
The moon climbed higher. The woods remained unnervingly silent.
On the open ground ahead, a single demon still toyed with its severed head. It bounced the skull off the dirt, catching it again with a gleeful giggle. A second demon soon joined, and together they played like grotesque cats with a ball.
Laughter echoed faintly in the night.
Then, abruptly, both froze. Their eyes darted toward the forest. In unison, they dropped the head and bolted into the trees, vanishing like shadows.
Around the perimeter, other demons stirred uneasily. Some slunk backward into the darkness. Others vanished into the undergrowth without a sound.
Kimura's grip on his blade tightened. His chest constricted. "No… it's the same as before."
The team felt it too—the sudden silence, the weight pressing in on the clearing.
"Last time this happened…" one voice whispered, trembling.
"…someone disappeared."
Kimura's eyes swept the circle, jaw tight. He didn't say the words out loud, but his gut already knew.
It's coming again.