Chapter 146 148: Across the Kingdom of Ordeya

The monster blurs. One moment it stands, the next it's just gone. "MOVE!" Asdri roars. A heartbeat later, the beast slams into Famir mid-air. Wind explodes outward in a shriek as the archer is hurled like a comet into a distant building. The impact sends stone and dust flying. Valia gasps, her tether flaring as it redirects healing energy into Famir's broken frame. "I've got him!" she calls, floating quickly toward the wreckage. Asdri doesn't hesitate. "[Tier 5 – Stormbind Blade]!" Lightning dances along his sword, splitting into jagged arcs that form a glowing cage mid-air. He swings downward, sending a wave of chained thunderbolts that strike the monster's limbs—stunning it for a split second. "Ingra, now!" "[Tier 5 – Cryo Lance]!" A massive spear of ice slams into the monster's thigh, freezing flesh and shattering crystal in a burst of cold mist. The impact is solid—deep enough to stagger it. "Pyke!" Asdri barks. "On it!" He crashes down with a bellow, smashing his axe into the weakened joint with [Tier 5 – Crushing Quake]. The monster's leg buckles— But doesn't fall. Instead, its arm snaps up and grabs Pyke by the head. "Shit—" The next moment, Pyke is slammed into the ground like a hammer to a spike. Dust geysers from the crater. The monster lifts him again—about to strike once more— "[Tier 5 – Windstep Volley]!" Three arrows slam into its elbow, bursting with razor-sharp gusts. The grip loosens, and Pyke rolls away, groaning. The monster turns again, fixated on Famir now returning to the air, blood trailing from his temple but bow still steady. While chaos grips the capital, a deeper plan unfolds. Across Ordeya's territory—north, west, and east—city after city erupts into sudden conflict. Black smoke rises into the sky from Edolde, the trade hub of the western coast. Screams echo through its alleys as armored monsters descend from the cliffs beyond the city's outer wall. They strike with precision, some blades coated in a gleaming violet sheen—poison. Their eyes glow faintly blue, unblinking. "Reinforcements! We need reinforcements now!" a commander bellows atop the battlements, fending off two assailants with trembling arms. A communication crystal hums in his hand. "This is Captain Roen of Edolde! We are under attack by unknown hostiles—hundreds, no, thousands! Requesting support from the main army!" After waiting for five minutes, which should be enough time for his message to arrive in the capital, and them giving a reply. But no message arrive. "What?!" Roen stares in disbelief as the line dies. Behind him, the gate bursts open with a thunderous boom, and the enemy floods in like a wave of shadow. The commander barely has time to shout before a massive creature—eight feet tall with jagged, insectoid armor and serrated claws—leaps into the courtyard. It lands with a crunch, sending cracks through the stone beneath its feet. Roen turns to face it, sword raised. "Hold the line!" The creature's mouth splits open, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. It laughs. Then it lunges. ---- Far to the north, in the snowy city of Haldenridge, fires now bloom across the frost-covered rooftops. The local militia, clad in furs and light steel, are overwhelmed by serpentine figures slithering through the snowdrifts—silent, swift, merciless. "Don't let them past the inner gate!" cries a young lieutenant, loosing a bolt from his crossbow. It bounces harmlessly off the scale-armored hide of a serpentine warrior. The monster doesn't even blink before slicing the man's arm clean off with a curved blade. Inside the city's keep, panic reigns. "We need to contact the capital!" a noble cries, clutching a bloodied arm as he's dragged behind the last defensive line. "We've already sent the request!" a mage snarls, sweat freezing to his brow. "They're not answering!" "They left us to die," someone whispers. No one corrects them. ---- In the east, the port city of Havarg reels as massive arachne descend from rooftops, skittering across walls and dragging screaming soldiers into alleyways. Thick webbing covers whole streets, choking passageways, trapping reinforcements. A commander shouts, "Burn the webs! Clear a path!" But the fire only reveals more monsters lurking in the smoke. A Arachne twice the size of a horse emerges through the flames—eyes glowing a bright, malevolent red. It hisses and launches a glob of venom that instantly melts through steel and flesh alike. Above it all, a flying monster with scaled wings glides over the burning harbor. The city's harbor defenses crumble under the assault. Ships burn at anchor. The sea reflects fire and blood. Another request for help goes out. And another is ignored. ----- Back in the capital, within the army's war chamber, panic grows louder than any command. "We're losing contact with our other cities!" "The communications network is failing!" "Why isn't the army responding!?" A general slams his fist against the table. "Because they're all here—fighting that thing!" Dozens of officers and strategists are gathered around a glowing map. Red markers blink faster and faster as they lose signals—Edolde, Haldenridge, Velharn... and more. The tent's heavy flaps part with a gust of wind as Marshal Medren strides in. The temperature seems to drop as soon as his boots hit the stone floor beneath the reinforced war tent. Silence falls. Every officer straightens and salutes instantly. "Marshal on deck!" Medren's presence is overwhelming—tall, cloaked in dark blue armor etched with golden inlays, and a sword resting against his back that only a handful alive have seen drawn. His eyes, cold and sharp, scan the chaos of the command tent. "The situation in the other cities?" His voice is quiet, yet it cuts through the air like steel. General Orsten steps forward, his gauntlets bloodstained, his voice tight. "Sir. We've... lost communication. Across all fronts. Edolde, Haldenridge, Velharn, and possibly more." "What?" Medren's tone barely shifts, but those closest to him flinch. "The enemy might possess some kind of item or device that's disrupting our message crystals. No replies are getting through—every attempt to connect is being severed." Medren's jaw tightens. "So we're blind." Orsten nods, grim. "Deaf and blind, sir. And outmaneuvered." The silence hangs again, thicker now. Medren's hand clenches slowly by his side. For the first time in decades of battle, he feels useless. He had come to the capital with the army to protect the heart of the kingdom, yet now—while their cities burn, while their people scream for help—they are locked here, pinned by a single monster. One whose very presence paralyzes him. He had stood against powerful tier 5 monsters. Against warslaughts and invading enemies. But this creature... this thing—its aura alone crushes his will when he steps near it. As if the world itself grows heavier. Medren's hand drifts to his chest, brushing aside his cloak. Beneath the armor, strapped to a chain against his skin, is a sealed case of silverwood and obsidian. An object the Queen herself had given him, long ago. 'Only if the Prince is about to lose, she had said. Only then.' Medren closes his eyes. He remembers her gaze—calm, unshaken—as she placed the case in his hands. ----- The monster's roar splits the sky, a sound that scrapes against the inside of their skulls. Its limbs blur with every step—blinking from place to place in bursts of unnatural speed. Even wounded, even frozen, even struck—it refuses to slow. Asdri breathes heavily, lightning flickering across his shoulders as his sword crackles in his grip. Blood runs down his arm, but he doesn't flinch. "This is getting out of hand," Famir pants from above, circling wide, arrows nocked and fingers trembling. "We can't keep this up." "Then we stop holding back," Asdri growls. His voice rises. "Everyone—we use it now!" Ingra's eyes widen. "The Link Skill?" "It's time," Asdri says, steady and sure. "We use everything we've got." The others exchange looks—exhausted, bloodied, but nodding. "Alright then," Pyke says with a grin, wiping blood from his jaw. "About damn time." Valia lifts her staff, eyes glowing softly. "Activating it now. Everyone—breathe together." She chants softly, her voice calm and rhythmic. "[Tier 5 – Soulbind Convergence]." Golden threads of mana weave from her staff, snaking toward each of them. Asdri feels the warmth pierce his chest. The pain in his shoulder lessens, and suddenly he feels Pyke's burn on his back—Ingra's frozen numbness on his arm—Famir's cracked ribs in his side. And his own pain... dispersed, thinned out, shared. A ripple of power surges between them. A single pulse. Then silence. "[Tier 5 – Stormheart Overdrive]!" he roars. Electricity erupts from his body like a thunderstorm made flesh. Lightning courses along the ground, splitting stone and air alike. He vanishes in a blink, reappearing mid-air above the monster, blade poised. "[Tier 5 – Earthrend Smash]!" Pyke follows, slamming into the monster's side with a seismic strike. Cracks shoot through the ground as his axe explodes with earthen force, throwing up debris and stunning the creature. "[Tier 5 – Cryo Domain: Glacial Maw]!" Ingra chants, her hands raised high. An enormous dome of spiraling ice slams down, frost devouring the air, sealing the creature in jagged walls of crystal. It struggles—but the cold burns now. Deep. Real. It screeches. "[Tier 5 – Skyfall Barrage]!" Famir unleashes a storm of arrows from above. Each arrow carries razor winds, slicing through the air like a hurricane of blades. They pierce flesh, wings, and armor—ripping chunks of the monster with each flash. Valia stands at the center, arms outstretched. "[Tier 5 – Divine Veil]! Stay linked. I'll keep the flow steady!" A shimmering shield expands outward from her, bolstering their armor, patching wounds even as they form, converting pain into fuel for their next strike. The monster roars again, but it's different now. Angrier.