Far to the north—

A few hundred kilometers beyond Shiverstone, the sky was a sheet of black velvet. Only the pale moon offered any light, glinting off the endless, crawling tide of mutant beasts.

Four figures flew low, fast—streaks of movement above the tide, cloaked in wind and darkness.

The pressure they gave off made even a Level Five Linglong Fox whimper and vanish beneath the snow.

At the head of the formation, one of the flyers stopped midair.

“Nolan,” he said, turning his gaze south. “You’re heading to Shiverstone.”

“Xavier, Malachi—West Bridgeport. I’ll take Ebonveil.”

They were all in military gear, uniforms pulled tight across broad shoulders. Battle-hardened eyes scanned the terrain without emotion.

“Damn it,” Xavier muttered. “Of all the times for the beast tide to break out... we were so close.”

Andre, still watching the distant north, said quietly, “It’s not a coincidence. This confirms our guesses.”

They had just been deep in the snowfields, investigating something far more dangerous—when chaos erupted across Krythos.

They had no choice but to return.

“We didn’t get to face a Beast King,” Xavier grumbled. “Didn’t even reach her.”

“She doesn’t know we’re coming,......”

The group exchanged brief nods—no more words—and split apart like comets.

Nolan lingered a moment, gaze turning back toward the southern mountains.

“Shiverstone, huh?” he murmured. “So that kid’s also there…”

And with that, he disappeared into the clouds.

.......

“Brandon,” someone reported softly, “thirteen dead, five seriously wounded, thirty-nine with minor injuries.”

Brandon stood in silence, eyes fixed on the bodies lined up beneath white cloths. The wind stirred faintly at the edges of the coverings.

He took a deep breath. “Understood. Head back. What’s the situation elsewhere?”

......

By now, the sky had lightened into a dull gray. The remaining students at the academy had begun gathering at the main gate, their faces alert.

As the city gate creaked open, Brandon and the others began their slow walk back—exhausted, bloodied.

But then the ground began to tremble.

A strange, low-frequency vibration rose beneath their feet.

Brandon’s instincts screamed. “Shit! Everyone—inside the gate! Now!”

From the top of the gate tower, a student scanned the snowy field with a telescope—and immediately dropped it.

“T-there are thousands of them! Thousands!”

Far off in the distance, the snow erupted into chaos. A vast horde of mutant beasts charged across the white plains, stirring up massive clouds of snow and dust.

Brandon turned, eyes wide. The blood drained from his face. But even with the school gates just steps away, he stopped.

“Brandon!” someone shouted.

First-level awakeners on the wall freezed—and then, one by one, they rushed out of the academy.

“We’ll stand with you!”

“Fight to the death!”

Brandon looked at the growing line of comrades joining him, swords trembling in their hands.

He laughed, long and raw, and raised his cracked sword to the sky.

“Bloodstone Warriors! WITH ME!”

“KILL!!”

They charged like cavalry across ancient battlefields, a ragged wall of wounded heroes roaring toward their final stand.

The sun broke over the horizon.

Then—

Clang!

A sound rang through the air like steel being drawn from an ancient scabbard.

Suddenly, weapons all across the field began to tremble—then pulled away from their owners’ hands.

“What the hell?!”

“My sword—what’s happening?!”

Longswords, warhammers, knives—even shattered bones and dead tree limbs—rose into the air, swirling in an impossible storm above them.

Dozens. Hundreds.

And then—they turned.

Every airborne weapon aligned—pointed directly at the oncoming beast tide.

And the next moment, they launched.

A rain of blades screamed through the sky and tore through the charging mutant beasts like divine judgment.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

In seconds, it was over.

Where there had been a stampede of monsters just moments ago… now lay only blood, corpses, and broken snow.

Not one beast remained standing.

Everyone froze. Axel took a long, sharp breath.

Then came a calm, steady voice, like gravel and steel.

“Well done.”

From the field of death, a tall man emerged, unbothered by the blood staining the ground around him. He wore a thick military coat, black gloves, and cowhide boots. A half-burned cigar dangled from his mouth, smoke curling lazily into the morning air.

“I’m Nolan. Krythos Whisper Syndicate.” He paused. “You all can stand down now.”

The head of the Whisper Syndicate. In the flesh.

Axel has always been curious about this man. He knew that he was the one who proposed the joint mission in the City of Sin. But seeing him… just silently annihilated thousands of mutant beasts? It was something else entirely.

Unbelievable, there had been no energy surge. Just calm, brutal, godlike power. Axel didn’t even see him attack.

"Is this the strength of the military leader?"

"It's too terrifying!"

someone muttered behind, still shaking.

Nolan glanced at Axel briefly—and then, in the blink of an eye, disappeared into the morning haze like a fading ghost.

The students stood speechless. Even the wind had gone quiet.

And then, slowly, Brandon slumped to the ground, dropping to sit where he stood.

He looked up at the rising sun, blinking against the light.

“It’s finally over,” he said.

And for the first time in days—he smiled.

After the battle, Axel experienced the greatest harvest of his life.

The battlefield was littered with the bodies of thousands of mutant beasts. However, since Axel had already ascended to a level 3 Awakener, the weaker creatures didn't produce the life crystals.

Even so, his haul was massive.

More than two hundred ordinary life crystals.

Twelve from level 2 beasts.

Three from level 3.

And one… from a level 4.

Nestled next to the dark green crystal was a gem that glowed a haunting red.

Axel’s eyes widened. A skill-infused life crystal. So mutants could produce these too...

Silently, Axel tucked away the crystals into a secure pouch, then let his gaze wander over the survivors. Relief hit him like a wave.

Annabelle. She was safe—standing quietly on the edge of the crowd.

He made his way to her. “Annabelle... what’s going on with you?” He could feel it. An entirely new kind of energy pulsing from her—a raw, unstable force, far stronger than just a few days ago.

She met his eyes and shook her head gently.

“Go rest.”

.........

Back in his dorm, Axel collapsed onto the bed and passed out instantly.

He didn’t wake up until the next morning—nearly noon.

By that time, the gate of Shiverstone had opened once again. Tristan had returned with the remaining teachers.

When he saw the Bloodstone Warfare School still standing, a rare smile cracked Tristan’s worn-out face. He didn’t waste time—despite his fatigue, he headed straight to his office.

“Report.”

The students who had stayed behind during the siege were waiting for him, relaying every detail. As one of them described the events outside the academy walls, Tristan’s brow furrowed.

“Wait—those beasts outside the gates... Brandon and Axel took care of them?”

“Yes, sir. Axel also broke through to level 3 during the battle. Together, they brought down a level 4 chromatic dragon.”

Tristan went quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“Axel, that kid…” A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. If the Four-University Martial Arts Tournament still happened in March next year, this boy could be a serious contender—perhaps even a main force.

Not long after, the students were dismissed. Several instructors filed into the room.

“Fifteen teachers dead. Thirteen students,” one of them reported.

Tristan didn’t speak. He simply looked out the frost-glazed window, toward the snow-covered north.

The silence grew heavy—until a gray-haired instructor broke it.

“Principal… wasn’t the military support a little too late? This was a full-scale beast tide. Even without a Beast King, we—”

Tristan raised a hand.

“The higher-ups have their reasons,” he said, quiet but firm. It was enough to end the conversation.