CHAPTER 806: REAPERS (II)

The elite forces of Exilion tightened their grips on their weapons as they beheld the monstrous creatures before them. These were not enemies they had trained for.

Each abomination stood over four meters tall, with bulging, muscular bodies that looked strong enough to rip through buildings as if they were made of parchment. Their forms were encased in a blend of volcanic stone and divine metal, forming a natural armor with no visible weak points.

Even their claws gleamed with a terrifying sharpness, sharper than the finest Sage-tier blades. The aura they emitted was not just oppressive—it was suffocating, an overwhelming presence of destruction and consumption.

Yet, even when faced with such pressure, the elite soldiers of Exilion did not retreat. They outnumbered the enemy five to one, and surely, such massive bodies couldn’t move swiftly. Most importantly, their sensors had picked up no internal energy core—no Force, no Magic. That meant limited range, limited abilities, and predictable patterns of attack. At least, that’s what they believed.

Their illusion shattered less than three seconds later.

The creatures, all five thousand of them, rose from the ruptured earth and arranged themselves in perfect rows, shoulder to shoulder, without a word. A cracking sound echoed through the mountains as fissures split across their armored exteriors. Their chests swelled unnaturally. Their maws opened, revealing multiple rows of jagged, glistening teeth, and their necks expanded like overinflated bellows.

Then it began.

A roar erupted, not from all of them at once, but in an exact sequence—row by row, back to front, like a symphony of coordinated destruction. The sound waves didn’t just overlap; they fused into one another, harmonizing at a frequency designed to shatter anything in their path. The result was a singular, catastrophic sonic boom that cracked open the sky.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

The roar collided with the advancing Exilion elite with the force of a divine punishment. The mountain trembled, and the air warped as thousands of soldiers were flung backward like leaves in a hurricane. But it wasn’t just the physical force—it was the sound. Piercing their inner ears, rupturing balance centers, flooding their minds with unbearable nausea and vertigo, the sonic wave left even the strongest of them staggering.

Some dropped to their knees, blood streaming from their ears and noses. Guardians and Sages alike were affected, their nervous system disrupted, their ability to channel energy thrown into disarray.

And then, the real nightmare began.

Without giving their enemies even a second to recover, the monstrous creatures bent their thick legs and launched forward, all five thousand of them moving in flawless unison. For beings of such colossal mass, their speed was terrifying.

They surged like a tidal wave of muscle, fang, and claw—every step shaking the ground beneath them. But more terrifying was their coordination. Each creature moved like a limb of a larger organism, covering one another’s flanks, capitalizing on the smallest openings, enhancing each other’s power through sheer synergy. They were not mindless beasts. They were a weaponized swarm.

The first wave reached the disoriented frontlines.

A Guardian barely managed to raise his shield when one of the beasts barreled into him. The sheer impact shattered his reinforced shield and drove him into the earth. Bones cracked, internal organs ruptured, and blood poured from his mouth. Before he could scream, the creature leaned down and bit through his helm, skull, and brain in one horrifying motion. Then, without pause, it lunged into the next line.

Each attack took no more than two seconds—one for the tackle, one for the kill. And this process repeated thousands of times over. Bodies were ripped apart. Defensive formations began to falter. The battlefield was a canvas of blood and fire.

For many armies, such a sight would break morale. But not Exilion’s elite.

"FORMATION A7!" a voice roared with authority across the chaos.

It was one of the commanders, his voice amplified with Force. Even with ringing ears and broken stances, the soldiers heard the command. They moved instinctively.

Guardians took the front, erecting shield walls reinforced with runes and enchanted metal. Multiple rows interlocked, each protecting the one behind it. Meanwhile, behind them, the Mages began casting. Flames, lightning, and plasma spheres crackled into existence, painting the sky with radiant energy.

The monsters showed no hesitation. They crashed into the shields with claws and fists, some of them managing to break through, but not without cost. The formation held firm. Guardians grunted under the force but did not yield. Then, the sky above blazed as the barrage of spells was unleashed.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!"

Massive explosions rocked the battlefield, the impact of the magical assault tearing into the monsters’ ranks. The ground was scorched, rocks reduced to ash, and the air warped with intense heat and arcane pressure. Spells capable of vaporizing entire platoons struck their targets with full force.

But what the soldiers saw next nearly made their hearts stop.

Instead of crumpling, the creatures had shifted. Their skin rippled like molten tar. Their forms compacted, folding inward like iron transforming into meteors. Their internal organs and even bones retreated deep inside their bodies, where they were safest. The remaining armor expanded outward, forming a jagged shell—one that seemed designed for a single purpose: survival.

Despite the powerful blast, none of the monsters had perished. Some had cracks along their limbs, a few had lost external plating, but there were no mortal wounds.

Then, without warning, the stone-like shells trembled—and spikes burst outward.

Launched with supersonic force, the spikes became deadly projectiles. They fired in all directions, turning the battlefield into a death trap. Each spike carried immense kinetic energy, shredding through armor, puncturing barriers, and impaling unlucky soldiers through the chest or limbs.

Screams filled the air as the Guardians were thrown into chaos. Formation A7 crumbled.

Blood sprayed into the air, and limbs were torn asunder due to the devastating counterattack of the creatures. The monsters gave no respite. No sooner had the spikes cleared a path than they reverted to their original, terrifying forms—hulking, volcanic brutes encased in armor and death. With inhuman speed and precision, they lunged forward once more, breaking and crushing everything in their way, continuing with their massacre.

The commanding officer overseeing the battle clenched his teeth, his face twisted with frustration and dread. He had seen countless horrors in his life, but never something like this. The creatures’ ability to enter a defensive state with such speed made the usual magical support from the rear nearly useless. The spells simply struck hardened husks, dissipating with little effect. Yet the battle was far from over.

"Formation B1!" the commander roared, his voice carrying across the chaos with the force of iron resolve.

Instantly, the Sages took to the sky, rising in coordinated arcs of glowing flight. Below them, the Guardians tightened their formations once more, locking shields and planting their feet with grit. The Mages, hidden behind the shield walls, began casting earth spells to destabilize the terrain beneath the monsters. Chasms opened under the beasts’ feet, earth spikes shot upward, and the rocky surface shifted into slippery slopes and pits. The creatures stumbled, their momentum slowed, their movements restricted.

From the sky, the Sages launched their aerial assault. Blades of wind, lances of light, and orbs of pure kinetic force rained down upon the battlefield with unrelenting fury. Explosions echoed in rhythmic blasts, shaking the mountains, and lighting up the sky with supernatural brilliance. The advantage of aerial superiority was clear: the monsters had no wings, no ranged attacks. With nowhere to run, they would eventually fall to the combined might of air and ground.

That was the belief. And it was a mistake.

Among the monsters, several stopped mid-charge and turned their blank, skull-plated faces toward the sky. A low hum began to build in their cores, a guttural vibration that made the very air quiver. The soldiers on the ground paused, sensing something unnatural.

Then it happened.

Their bodies began to tremble, not with fear, but with internal force. Immense heat radiated from their stomachs, distorting the air like waves over a furnace. Their armor split once more, this time in precise vents along their backs and limbs, revealing glowing red cores pulsing with magma-like energy.

With a guttural roar, the creatures launched themselves into the sky.

They didn’t leap like beasts—they erupted like comets.

Trails of flame burst behind them as their bodies ignited midair. The Sages barely had time to react. One, caught in the path of a charging monster, raised his staff too late. The beast plowed through him, bisecting him midair and turning his glowing armor into burning slag. Others followed. Dozens of the creatures launched themselves in perfect trajectories, targeting the aerial formation with pinpoint accuracy.

Explosions erupted in the sky. Sages tumbled from the clouds, their bodies scorched, limbs crushed. The sky, once a sanctuary, had become a slaughterhouse.

The elite forces had underestimated their foes yet again. And now, both land and air belonged to the creatures.