“Agile Formation!”

  At the sergeant’s command, we began shifting from Strider Formation into Agile Formation, boots scraping against stone as shields rotated and spears adjusted in practiced motion. Strider Formation was designed to counter flightless birds, while Agile Formation was meant for fast-moving ground predators that hunted in packs.

  Tier Twos moved first, forming an almost complete circle with their shields overlapping and deliberately leaving only the rear open. Barry and Kael were currently rotated out and taking what little rest they could, while the sergeant took the rear position, leaving seven of us to hold the front line. I took the center position in the formation, largely because of my ability to sense mana within beasts. The sergeant possessed a similar capability, and with him covering the rear and me anchoring the center, we could compensate for most blind spots and coordinate the formation far more effectively.

  Just moments earlier, we had been dealing with four Steelbeaks using Strider Formation, and now a wolf pack was advancing toward us, more than ten of them, lean bodies kept low to the ground, their movements sharp and coordinated in a way that immediately set them apart from the earlier attacks.

  Just as the wolves approached, I checked my mana, a habit I had developed over time.

  1070 / 1464

  I was trying to maintain my mana above a thousand for as long as possible. I was able to do that because I did not have to rely on the mana crystal the lieutenant had issued. I had two of my own saved mana crystals, and I consumed them freely whenever I was rotated out of the fighting formation. Not everyone had that luxury. Most of the squad had already used their mana crystals to push their cultivation as high as possible in preparation for the tide. Only two people other than me still had their own reserves, the sergeant and Walter.

  All thoughts came to a sudden halt when one of the wolves slammed its claws into my shield, the impact rattled up my arm and into my shoulder, boots scraping backward against stone as I absorbed the force and reset my stance.

  I countered immediately with a sharp spear jab, aiming for center mass, but the wolf twisted away at the last moment, leaving only empty air and a flash of grey fur.

  “Four Tier Two. Wind element. Me and Garran. Two rear, Jack and Owen.”

  Fast-moving beasts were always troublesome. Their lean bodies and lack of obvious elemental signs made identification difficult, which meant speed of recognition became critical. During drills, we had trained specifically for this, calling out Tier Twos before they could reposition. When I called a name, it meant the Tier Two was directly in front of that person. If I called “rear,” the Tier Two was at the back of the pack. If I called “mid,” it meant the beast was pushing through the center. If no position was called, the Tier Two was already fully engaged with the person whose name I had spoken.

  The Tier Two wolf struck my shield again while a Tier One lunged in from my right, aiming for my spear hand, with another Tier One pressing in behind it. My focus remained entirely on the Tier Two. I thrust again, this time driving the strike with mana reinforcement while activating the runes along the spear to strengthen the shaft, and managed to scrape its hide, though the strike lacked depth. As the Tier Ones tried to exploit my exposed arm, one was drawn off when Walter intercepted it, shifting the beast’s focus toward him, while the other was stopped cold by Michael’s spear thrust through the gap between us, the shaft vibrating as he forced it back.

  One Tier One remained committed to me, snapping and darting in close, but Michael repeatedly drove it away from behind, denying it space every time it tried to close, allowing me to maintain pressure on the Tier Two while Walter handled the diverted threat.

  The advantage these beasts have is speed, but it comes at the cost of durability. Their bodies are quick but not particularly tough, and that was what I exploited in the next exchange. I landed three rapid spear strikes on the Tier Two, each a shallow wound but enough to slow it. One clean hit to the heart or skull would have finished it.

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  Walter dispatched his Tier One and immediately drew the attention of the remaining one, leaving Michael and me fully focused on the Tier Two in front of us.

  All along the formation, similar struggles were unfolding, shields ringing and spears flashing as the circle tightened under the sergeant’s order.

  By the time most of the Tier Ones were dealt with, the Tier Two was also starting to show signs of slowing. We advanced the formation a few steps as Garran and Varric began moving in from the corners, tightening the circle. The wolf in front of me made one final attempt, pushing off with its rear legs and leaping straight toward my face.

  It was a mistake.

  On the ground, it could change direction the instant it sensed danger, but in the air, that freedom vanished. I shifted back just enough to let it overcommit as Walter’s spear from the right and Colin’s spear from the left punched into its abdomen, and a heartbeat later my spear followed through its throat, the combined force ending the motion in a wet, abrupt stop.

  Jack and Garran had already finished the Tier Two that had gone after Jack, leaving only two wolves standing. One was limping badly, its movement uneven, while the other attempted to retreat, only to be blocked by the growing pile of bodies around it. We closed in without haste and ended the fight quickly, efficiently, and without unnecessary risk.

  As we turned and began clearing the bodies, we pushed the fallen beasts aside to reclaim stable footing, dragging carcasses out of the formation gaps and scraping blood and gore from the stone where we could. The Tier Ones were already sitting on the ground behind the line, breathing heavily and focusing on recovery. They had the lowest mana capacity in the squad, and it showed in moments like this, shoulders slumped, hands trembling slightly as they tried to stabilize their breathing and circulate mana back into exhausted channels.

  Sometimes, watching them made me quietly grateful for my higher mana capacity and stronger spiritual attributes. Without that advantage, I would have been sitting with them, struggling instead of still holding more than eight hundred units of mana in reserve.

  There were other signs that worried me more than the condition of my squadmates.

  The sunlight was already beginning to fade. At best, we had one to one and a half hours before dusk fully set in. According to the lieutenant, a beast tide typically lasted twelve hours, and we were already approaching the eleven-hour mark. By that measure, the end should have been close, yet the beasts were still coming, and their pressure showed no sign of easing.

  After nearly eleven hours of observing the beast tide, I had also begun to grasp some of its underlying patterns.

  The early phase, the period when we were patrolling to protect the trenches, had been driven by a sudden increase in the number of beasts within the forest, along with higher-tier beasts moving toward its outer regions. My first clue had been our initial expedition. At the time, Venelion appearing where it did had felt wrong, as if it had strayed into territory it had no reason to approach, something Colin had pointed out as well. Looking back now, that moment was likely the first sign of a larger shift, a rise in mana density and the true beginning of the tide.

  As Venelion moved outward, lower-tier beasts would have been forced ahead of it, which explained what we began experiencing four to five months after that expedition, near-daily encounters during trench patrols with herds of herbivorous beasts that were not migrating by choice but fleeing under constant pressure.

  Using the same logic, a grand tide could only form if something, or several somethings, powerful enough to intimidate Tier Three beasts had appeared deep within the forest, and if those entities had chosen this fort as their target, then the situation unfolding in front of us made grim sense.

  The difference was evident in the beasts themselves.

  The herbivores that attacked first had been driven purely by panic, showing no coordination or intent beyond escape, while the carnivores we were facing now were far more deliberate, advancing cautiously and probing our formation instead of hurling themselves at it without thought.

  If my theory was correct, the later stages of the tide would only grow more dangerous as the number of Tier Threes increased, and I could only hope that the Vanguard could handle them or that the Captain had something planned, because in our current condition, even a single Tier Three would inflict devastating losses on our squad.

  As for why higher-tier beasts would attack a fort at all, the answer required little thought, as I had read it long ago in the basic texts back in Stonegate. Unlike humans, who advanced through structured mana cultivation and class progression, beasts grew stronger through only two things, mana and battle, and a fort provided both in abundance while being far safer than the central regions of the forest.

  Which meant that the danger of the beast tide was not fading with the light. If anything, the approaching darkness only made the situation more dangerous.

  Even the bodies around us were becoming a problem. They cluttered movement, restricted footing, and created blind spots near the ground. If the fighting continued into full darkness, every corpse would become another hazard we would have to account for, another place for a beast to hide, stumble, or strike from unexpectedly.