Erel'na dances around the Water General, venom trails slicing the air.

"You shouldn't worry about the battlefield," she hisses softly, "your real problem is me."

Varesh toys with the Wind General, flickering in and out of sight.

"Look down," he says casually.

The Wind General risks a glance.

And his blood turns to ice.

The human army is collapsing.

Retreating.

Breaking apart.

"This… this can't be happening…"

Varesh smirks. "Don't worry about them. Worry about your throat."

Lightning crackles.

----

Rodon City, Baron Revig's mansion.

Inside the grand hall of the Baron's mansion, the atmosphere is tense despite the luxurious surroundings. Stained-glass windows cast shifting colors across the polished floors.

Baron Revig lounges in his seat at the head of the table, swirling wine in his cup with a satisfied smirk. Across from him sits the City Lord of Rodon City, stiff-backed and sweating slightly. At the far end sits Commander Du, still trembling when he remembers the fall of Nam City.

Revig raises his cup. "Commander Du, you've made the right decision coming to me. Truly."

Commander Du lowers his head in a forced bow. "My lord… I owe you my life. Had I stayed in that damned city, I would already be a rotting corpse right now."

Revig laughs loudly, waving off the despair. "Oh, don't be so grim! Who wouldn't welcome a Tier 6 like you with open arms? Not every day a man of your level comes knocking."

Du gives a bitter smile. "Still… my desertion—"

Revig cuts him off with a scoff. "Bah. Don't think about it too much. Yes, you ran. Yes, the kingdom might consider it a grave offense."

The City Lord coughs lightly. "Might, my lord?"

Revig shrugs. "As long as the good Commander stays loyal to me"—he taps his chest with a proud grin—"the kingdom won't hear a thing."

Commander Du exhales shakily, relief trickling into his expression. "Thank you… Baron Revig. Truly."

The City Lord leans forward slightly, hands clasped tightly. "My lord… any news about the battle?"

Revig clicks his tongue. "I'm waiting too. You know that communication device we have is low-grade. Our scout still needs to get a bit closer before he can send anything."

The City Lord nods slowly. "Right… right. I forgot. Only higher nobility get the good ones."

Revig grins smugly. "Exactly. If I had a better device, we'd already know who's winning."

Suddenly, the communication device on the table flares to life, its dim crystal glowing violently.

All three men jolt.

A shaky voice crackles out, panicked and breathless.

"My lord—! Plison City… Plison City is losing! The monsters— they're too strong..."

A sharp scream cuts through the transmission.

A scream of a dying man.

Commander Du stiffens, his face draining of color. The City Lord grips the arm of his chair until the wood creaks.

More voices echo in the background, monsters.

One scoffs loudly, annoyed.

"Task… these humans are really good at hiding themselves."

Another laughs, far too casual for the carnage behind him.

"Well, this is still good. We're not assigned to the battlefield, anyway."

A crunch—bone, maybe—then the signal dies with a hiss.

The crystal dims.

Silence crushes the hall.

Not a breath.

Not a twitch.

Not a sound.

Commander Du swallows hard, voice barely a whisper. "Plison… too? That fast?"

The City Lord's hands tremble. "My lord… i-if two cities have fallen already—"

Revig slowly sets his wine cup down. The arrogance on his face is gone, replaced by a deep, calculating frown.

He speaks only after a long, heavy moment.

"City Lord."

The City Lord snaps his gaze to him. "Y-Yes, my lord?"

"Send that message to the Duke," Revig orders quietly. "Word for word. Immediately."

The City Lord doesn't question it. He rises so fast his chair nearly topples.

"At once!"

Silence settles again.

But this time… it's heavier.

More suffocating.

Revig stays perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the communication device like it might bite him. His fingers tighten around the wine cup until faint cracks form in the glass.

Commander Du exhales shakily. "…Plison had four generals from the Duke stationed there."

Revig's jaw clenches.

He knows.

He knows exactly who is supposed to be defending that city.

Commander Du wipes the sweat from his brow. "Those three aren't ordinary Tier 6 like me. They're actual generals. They are either high-level or peak Tier 6…"

Revig doesn't respond.

His expression darkens further.

Du continues, voice trembling. "They can each keep a thousand soldiers alive just by being present. And Plison still fell in half a day?"

Revig's tongue feels dry. "…That shouldn't be possible."

Du lets out a weak, nervous laugh. "Unless those monsters aren't just strong… they're overwhelmingly strong."

Revig slams the cracked wine cup onto the table.

----

The walls of Plison shake under the weight of the monster assault. Stone dust rains from above as another part of the barricade collapses. Flames lick along the rooftops. Screams echo through the streets.

And in the sky, the three human generals hover like dying birds.

Blood drips from the Fire General's arm in a steady line. The Water General's barrier flickers, barely holding. The Wind General wheezes with every breath.

Only General Jared still holds a proper stance, though even he is breathing like his lungs are being scraped raw.

Across from them float Ruk, Erel'na, Varesh, and Vordon.

They're all battered.

Ruk's right horn is cracked, steam hissing irregularly.

Erel'na's carapace is split in two places, venom leaking out.

Varesh's lightning pulses weakly, the sparks struggling to form.

Vordon's arm twitches from overuse, his breaths shallow.

No one looks like they can take another full exchange.

Jared wipes the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.

The moment his gaze shifts downward, his expression hardens.

Monsters pour through a newly-smashed gap in the outer wall. Human soldiers retreat through the streets in disarray. Some try to form lines, only to be swallowed by the stampede of monsters.

The city is done.

He knows it.

"Generals!" Jared barks, voice hoarse but firm. "We're retreating. Now!"

The Fire General stares blankly. "W-We can still—"

"No, we can't!" Jared snaps. "Look at the city. Look at the walls. We've lost Plison."

A rumble cuts through the sky as another building collapses.

The Water General grits his teeth. "Damn it…!"

The Wind General wipes blood from his mouth. "Understood. Pull the soldiers back!"

They don't hesitate after that.

The three injured generals immediately dive toward the city, using the last of their mana to break apart monster formations and open paths for fleeing humans.

Ruk watches them leave, chest heaving. "Hahh… letting them run, huh…"

Erel'na retracts her four blade-like arms, reshaping them into normal limbs as the lingering venom fades away. "We're in no condition to give chase," she says.

Varesh gives a tired, humorless chuckle. "One more fight and I'll pass out in mid-air."

Vordon float down, and plants the butt of his halberd into the ground, using it like a cane. His voice rumbles, weaker than usual.

"Let them run. The command was only to take the city."

On the ground

The remaining human units retreat in waves, generals carving open corridors through monster ranks.

"Move! MOVE!"

"Get the wounded out first!"

"Don't stop running!"

Jared lands beside a collapsing squad, grabbing a soldier by the backplate and throwing him forward.

"Don't look back!" he shouts. "Head to the western gate! Now!"

Behind him, a towering beast lunges—

SPLASH!

A wave of compressed water slams it aside as the Water General stumbles forward. "Jared—! I've got rear!"

The Fire General coughs blood, flames barely forming in his hand. "Go! I'll handle the ones on the right!"

The Wind General rushes past them, lifting fallen soldiers with gusts of wind, dropping them safely farther ahead.

They move like dying heroes.

Efficient. Desperate. Pushing past their limits.

And despite everything, despite the chaos, the screams, the burning stone, they're buying time.

Over time the retreat becomes a stampede.

Humans pour out of the crumbling streets, shoving, screaming, stumbling over debris and corpses. Some throw away armor just to run faster. Others don't even look where they're going—they only want to escape the nightmare behind them.

But the monsters don't allow it.

A wolf-beast leaps into the fleeing crowd, jaws snapping.

"R-RUN—!"

Crunch.

The man doesn't finish.

Another creature pounces on a group trying to escape through an alley. Bones snap, wet and sharp. Limbs scatter. Blood sprays across stone.

The fleeing soldiers scream—and run harder.

But it doesn't matter.

The monsters chase them down like prey.