The last of the first wave fell beneath Viktor's blade. Eugene moved among the remaining creatures. Around them, the other Pathwalkers sagged with exhaustion, their weapons dripping with black blood.
Eugene took a deep breath and surveyed the plaza. Bodies of Calizan littered the ground, but more importantly—all fifteen Pathwalkers were still standing. Wounded, yes. Bleeding, yes.
But alive.
"We've successfully cleared the first wave," he announced, raising his voice so everyone could hear. "We have some time before the next wave. Heal yourselves with your 'boons'."
Boons. Tools obtained from slain monsters—weapons, charms, anything that could turn the tide of battle. The chances of acquiring one weren't slim but not easy, and the rank of the boon matched the rank of the monster. His own thrusting sword was a Grade 8 Awakened rank boon, earned from killing a beast of the same rank.
The Pathwalkers moved quickly. Healing boons were rare—even the lowest rank could sell for thousands on the market—but those who had them used them. Others cleaned wounds, applied bandages, and checked their weapons. The brief respite was over almost as soon as it began.
Eugene sat on a collapsed pillar, catching his breath. His back throbbed where the Calizan's claws had torn through him. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill, but it burned with every movement. He pressed a bandage against it, hissing through his teeth.
The young Pathwayer he'd spoken to earlier approached him. Her hands were steady—not trembling like before. She moved with the ease of someone who had done this many times.
"Sir, let me help with that."
Eugene nodded, turning slightly so she could reach the wound. Her hands were practiced, efficient, as she wrapped the bandages around his torso.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Elara, sir."
"Elara." He tested the name. "How long have you been a Pathwalker?"
"Ten years, sir."
Eugene raised an eyebrow. Ten years was a long time. Long enough to rank up from Pathwayer to something higher. Yet she was still at the bottom rank.
She must have sensed his curiosity. "I never tried to rank up. I'm... content where I am."
He didn't press. Some people chose not to walk the Path. The trials were deadly—failure meant death. Many decided the risk wasn't worth the reward.
"You did well in the first wave," he said instead.
She nodded, finishing the bandage. "Thank you, sir."
***
The rift began to change.
It had been hovering three meters above the ground, a swirling wound in reality, its light blue energy pulsing like a heartbeat. Now the pulses grew faster. Louder. The air around it began to distort, shimmering like heat rising from asphalt.
Eugene stood, testing his movements. The bandages held. His Auser had recovered slightly—not much, but enough.
"Second wave," Viktor muttered, moving to stand beside him. His sword was already drawn, its edge gleaming with traces of black blood.
The rift started to descend. Slowly at first, then faster, dropping toward the ground like a stone sinking through water. When it stopped, it hovered just above the cobblestones, its surface rippling and churning.
"It's opening," someone whispered.
The rift opened silently this time. No wailing. No world-rending scream. Just a portal tearing open, its edges fraying like torn cloth. Through it, Eugene could see glimpses of another place—a dark sky, twisted trees, ground that seemed to breathe.
And then the monsters stepped through.
Calizans. The same creatures Eugene had barely killed in the first wave. The same horns curving backward. The same claws like knives. The same hunger in their eyes.
But not one this time.
Eugene counted as they emerged. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
Nine.
Nine Awakened monsters, each one capable of killing a Pathfounder in single combat. Each one faster, stronger, deadlier than anything most of these Pathwalkers had ever faced.
Eugene's blood ran cold.
Around him, he heard the others react—sharp intakes of breath, muttered prayers, the clatter of weapons being readjusted. Elara's hands, which had been steady moments ago, tightened on her bow.
"That's..." she started, but couldn't finish.
"I know," Eugene said quietly.
Then Viktor's hand went to his ear, listening to his communicator. His expression shifted—tension easing slightly, replaced by grim determination.
"Hold them off for ten minutes!" Viktor shouted, his voice cutting through the rising panic. "Reinforcements are on their way!"
Ten minutes. Eugene gripped his sword tighter. 'Ten minutes against nine Awakened monsters with a force of mostly Pathwayers. We might not last five.'
But he had no choice.
He assessed their forces quickly. Nine Calizans. Eugene and Viktor were the only Pathfounders. The rest were Pathwayers—some swordsmen, some archers, all low rank, all with low Core-class abilities at best. No tanks. No healers. Just fighters who had volunteered to hold the line.
He formed the plan in seconds. He and Viktor would hold the front, keeping the Calizans' attention. The archers would aim for their hearts—the weak spot he'd discovered in the first wave. The remaining swordsmen would cover the flanks, catch any that broke through.
"Archers!" Eugene shouted, moving into position. "Aim for the hearts! Don't waste arrows on anything else!"
The archers spread out behind him. Elara was among them, her bow raised, an arrow already nocked. Her face was calm, but her eyes held the weight of someone who had seen battles before.
"Swordsmen, with me!" Viktor called. "We hold the line. No one breaks. No one runs. We hold for ten minutes!"
The swordsmen formed up on either side of Eugene and Viktor—seven of them, their weapons raised, their bodies tense.
The Calizans stopped at the edge of the plaza. Nine pairs of eyes, gleaming with intelligence and hunger, surveyed the Pathwalkers before them.
Then the largest one—the pack leader—let out a low, rumbling growl.
And they charged.
The archers loosed their first volley. Glowing arrows streaked through the air in a deadly arc—some struck true, burying themselves in chests and shoulders. Even the hits didn't kill, but they slowed the beasts, made them stumble. One Calizan took an arrow to the eye and collapsed, skidding across the cobblestones.
[Congratulations. You have slain a Grade 7 Awakened monster, Calizan.]
Eugene ignored it. No time.
Eugene and Viktor met the front line head-on.
Eugene's sword found the heart of the first Calizan—a clean thrust, practiced and precise. The blade sank deep, and the creature crumpled without a sound.
[Congratulations. You have slain a Grade 7 Awakened monster, Calizan.]
But two more took its place immediately, their claws swiping at him from both sides. He ducked under one, parried the other, and drove his sword into the second beast's throat. It gurgled, staggered, and fell.
[Congratulations. You have slain a Grade 7 Awakened monster, Calizan.]
Viktor fought beside him, his blade dancing between the creatures. A Calizan lunged at him; he sidestepped and brought his sword down on its spine. It collapsed, twitching.
For a moment, Eugene allowed himself to hope. Three down. Six to go. Maybe they could—
A scream from the flank.
He turned. A Calizan had broken through the left flank, its claws buried in the chest of a young swordsman. The man fell without a sound.
Another tore through the center, its jaws closing around an archer's arm. The woman screamed, trying to pull free, but the beast shook her like a ragdoll.
"They're breaking through!" someone shouted.
'They're being slaughtered,' Eugene realized. 'We're losing them.'
A Calizan lunged at him from the side. Its claws grazed his neck—millimeters from his throat. He stumbled back, heart hammering, his wound screaming.
'Think straight, idiot! You're on a battlefield!'
He glanced sideways. Viktor was fighting two Calizans alone, barely holding them off. The other Pathwalkers were falling one by one, their bodies disappearing beneath the beasts.
Eugene reached for his sand boon—but it was still recovering. He reached for his Auser—the pool of essence that powered his Core abilities—but it was dangerously low. If he depleted it completely, his Flaw would surface.
And if his Flaw surfaced, he would die.
'Must not use Auser freely,' he told himself. 'Must not—'
But he had no choice.
The Calizan in front of him lunged again. Eugene poured essence into his sword. A faint light emanated from the blade as he met the creature head-on.
The Calizan's claws came for his heart.
He blinked.
He vanished from the beast's sight and reappeared at its side. The Calizan couldn't react in time.
His sword drove into its chest. The light from the blade flowed into the wound, and then—
The Calizan's chest burst open.
[Congratulations. You have slain a Grade 7 Awakened monster, Calizan.]
Blood sprayed everywhere, covering Eugene's face, his clothes, his eyes. He blocked the worst of it, but his balance wavered. His heart pounded like an engine running too fast. His body temperature spiked.
'No,' he thought. 'Not now. Not—'
He forced himself upright and looked around.
Viktor was on the ground. A Calizan's claws had pierced his chest. Two of them stood over him, tearing, devouring.
Around the plaza, more bodies. Pathwalkers who had been alive minutes ago now lay broken, being consumed by the pack. Only five remained—and they were barely holding on.
"No!" Eugene screamed.
He tried to run toward Viktor, but his legs failed. He fell to his knees, his body burning, his heart threatening to tear itself apart. His Flaw was surfacing—accelerated heartbeat, skyrocketing body temperature, paralysis. He'd pushed his Auser too far.
Two Calizans heard his scream. They turned from their feast and rushed toward him.
He couldn't move. Couldn't stand it. Could barely breathe.
'Get up!' he screamed at himself. 'Get up!'
His fingers found his sword. He gripped it, waiting, waiting—
A figure stepped in front of him.
Elara.
The Pathwalker who had chosen never to rank up, who had spent ten years at the bottom, now stood between him and death. Her bow was raised, an arrow nocked. Her hands were steady.
She released.
The arrow curved through the air and struck the first Calizan in the eye. It howled, stumbled, but kept coming. She nocked another, released. Another eye shot. The beast slowed, disoriented, but didn't fall.
"What are you doing?" Eugene shouted. "Run!"
She glanced back at him, and in her eyes, he saw something he hadn't expected.
Determination.
"Didn't you say 'Don't give in to fear', sir?" she said. "That's what I'm doing."
She nocked another arrow. The Calizans were meters away now.
Eugene forced himself to focus. He pulled on his Auser, desperate for anything, and found a thread. Barely anything. A trickle of essence, enough for one last move.
He poured it into his sword.
The blade began to glow—not faint this time, but bright. Brilliant. Blinding. Elara raised an arm to shield her eyes.
The Calizans kept coming.
Eugene rose to his feet, ignoring the wound on his back that had torn open again, ignoring his heart that was trying to kill him, ignoring everything but the monsters in front of him.
'I'm sorry, Jean,' he thought. 'I'm sorry I couldn't—'
He raised his sword.
"Hey, you stinky mutts!" he screamed. "This is my last essence of Auser!"
The light on his blade intensified, casting long shadows across the plaza.
"If this is the way I'm going to die, I'll take you with me and die a marvelous death!"