That night, the world plunged into chaos. Screams echoed across the land, terror gripped every heart, and blood soaked the soil of Oneiria.

  Everywhere, except for fifteen places.

  Scattered across the continents, fifteen towns stood untouched amid the carnage.

  Five were human settlements.

  One was a dwarven stronghold carved deep into the roots of the earth.

  Another belonged to the demonkins, forever cloaked in the perpetual twilight of their Evernight Town.

  Far beneath the ocean’s depths lay an underwater town of Atlanteans.

  High above, two floating towns, one ruled by the seraphims, the other by the harpies, drifted among the clouds.

  And deep within the forests, five more towns thrived in secrecy and silence, home to the elves, dark elves, foxkin, catkin, and wolfkin.

  These fifteen towns shone like beacons in a world gone mad. Each one was enveloped in a perfect cube of warm, golden light, soft and divine, as if heaven itself had cast a shield upon them.

  Monsters came, just as they had everywhere else. Hordes of them, snarling, slithering, screaming, rushed toward the towns, crashing against the golden barrier.

  But the moment their flesh touched the light… they vanished.

  No cries, no struggle. Just instant obliteration. The barrier didn’t repel, but it erased them.

  No dimensional gates opened within these sanctuaries.

  All but one.

  In the human town of Stellar, something was different.

  From the outside, it appeared safe, its golden shield held strong, impenetrable. No beasts breached its walls, no horror seeped in from the outside the town.

  And yet, monsters came.

  Not from beyond the walls, but from within.

  Stellar, alone among the fifteen, had become its own battlefield.

  Seventeen white Common-rank and eight blue Rare-rank dimensional gates had opened across the town of Stellar.

  The white Common-rank gates swarmed with monsters ranging from F-rank to D-rank. These were typically small and weak creatures, slimes, rabbit-like beasts, rat-like scavengers, flocks of bats, and similar low-tier threats.

  The blue Rare-rank gates, by contrast, unleashed monsters ranging from E-rank to C-rank. These were more dangerous, human-sized or up to thrice as large, such as hulking spiders, brutish orcs, and lumbering ogres.

  Even more fearsome were the purple Epic-rank gates, filled with monsters ranging from C-rank to B-rank. These were not defined by size but by their abilities and stats, wyverns with acid breath, venomous jellyfish that shimmered with deadly light, and colossal earthworms that tunneled through stone like air.

  And then there were the gold Legendary-rank gates. These were filled with monsters from A-rank to the terrifying S-rank: dragons that blackened the sky, krakens that crushed ships like toys, and leviathans that coiled around buildings like vines.

  In the front yard of Stelluna’s estate, controlled chaos reigned, tense but organized under Lyra’s command. The air was thick with tension, punctuated by the urgent, overlapping voices of mercenary reports and Lyra’s sharp commands.

  “C3—one Support!”

  “C2 to C3!”

  “F2—four Support!”

  “F1 to F2!”

  “F3 to F2!”

  “F4 to F2!”

  “E2 to F2!”

  “C1—patrol finished!”

  “C1 patrol C2!”

  “Report! B1—one Blue! One Support!”

  “B2 to B1!”

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  “Evacuate B1 to C1!”

  One gate did not always require just one squad of ten. Battlefields were never predictable. Injuries occurred, enemy numbers surged, and circumstances shifted in moments.

  Some areas had more blind spots, demanding longer patrols.

  Others had no gates at all, allowing their assigned squads, once finished, to reinforce sectors under siege.

  Civilians near active gates were being evacuated to sectors already cleared and declared safe.

  At the heart of this living map stood Lyra, commanding it all with steely determination.

  In her left hand, she gripped a communication crystal, barking orders and receiving updates with barely a pause. In her right, a quill flew across a large, open map spread across the table before her, marking the shifting positions of squads in real time, never stopping for more than a second.

  Usually, Lyra was known for her composure in the quiet of her office, attending to paperwork and strategy with calm focus.

  But this was different.

  Today, her seriousness was laced with tension, panic and fear coiling just beneath her disciplined expression.

  It was her first time commanding thousands of mercenaries in real time, during an active invasion.

  One misstep could mean lives lost.

  She had chosen to work from the front yard instead of the safety of her office. If monsters appeared inside the estate, she could be trapped there. Here, in the open, she had a clearer command view, but also clearer sound.

  The clash of steel, the roars of monsters, explosions of magic, thick smoke, and the screams of the wounded echoed all too close, rattling her nerves and tugging at her focus.

  At her side stood little Roxy, clutching a worn bear plushie tightly against her chest.

  The little girl’s hands trembled around the stuffed toy. Her eyes darted between the sweeping quill on the table to her mother’s tense expression.

  Roxy had never seen her like this, commanding soldiers, making split-second decisions, holding the entire town together.

  She wanted to say something, but her throat was tight. Instead, she whispered inside her heart.

  “Please… keep going, Mama. You’re amazing…”

  Silently, she prayed. She didn’t know who to pray to, but she squeezed her plushie tighter and hoped it was enough.

  Her mother looked strong, unshakable. But even Roxy could see the small signs, the way Lyra’s jaw clenched between commands, the way her shoulders were drawn tighter than usual.

  Roxy stood quietly, trying not to cry, trying to be brave. If her mother was standing tall, then so would she.

  Even so, Lyra had not made a single mistake.

  Fortunately, the dimensional gates had a known limit, their number was static, and all had appeared at once. Each new patrol report confirming an area clear and gate-free lightened her burden. Slowly, piece by piece, the battlefield map grew safer.

  After one relentless hour, every patrol sector had been cleared. With no new gates discovered, all mercenary squads had regrouped and were now concentrating their efforts on the active battlefronts.

  At last, Lyra allowed herself to exhale.

  Her legs nearly gave way as she sank into the chair set up near the tactical map table in the front yard.

  She was exhausted, her voice hoarse from shouting commands, her fingers stained with ink, her eyes dry from constant vigilance.

  There were no more incoming reports for now, only the distant echoes of clashing steel and monstrous cries drifting in from the ongoing skirmishes around town.

  Even Stelluna’s slaves, previously held back, had now joined the effort, fighting to gain battle experience or tending to the wounded. The more seasoned mercenaries led them, guiding their hands through the chaos.

  Lyra had done everything she could.

  The dimensional gates would continue pouring out monsters for another 23 hours, but their numbers were fixed. No new gates would open. Until then, all she could do was wait, ready to respond to any emergency.

  She leaned back in her chair, letting the strain momentarily lift from her shoulders. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, and for just a moment, the weight of command lessened.

  That was when Roxy, who had stood quietly by her mother’s side all along, finally spoke.

  “Mama is amazing!”

  Lyra turned toward her daughter just in time to receive the warm, sudden hug. A tired smile bloomed on her face. She wrapped her arms gently around the small, trembling girl and patted her soft golden hair.

  Before being a lord, she was a mother. And this fight… this entire nightmare… wasn’t just about protecting a town.

  It was about protecting her.

  Roxy giggled at the touch, eyes sparkling with admiration, and for the briefest heartbeat, warmth filled the space around them. A pause in the storm. A reminder of what they were fighting for.

  But that fragile peace shattered moments later.

  Refocused by her daughter’s embrace, Lyra reached for the communication crystal once more. Her instincts pulled her toward unfinished duties.

  She pressed the rune to connect.

  “Stellar’s command is secured. How is Selini?”

  One second passed.

  Two.

  Five.

  Ten.

  Silence.

  Her brow furrowed as she leaned in closer, straining to catch even a whisper.

  She called again, sharper now.

  “Cryssa?”

  “Answer me, Cryssa!”

  A creeping chill settled into her bones. The silence felt wrong, heavy, smothering.

  “What happened there, Cryssa?! Respond!”

  At last, a reply crackled through the crystal, faint, distant, and terrified.

  “H… Help… four… pur…ple…”

  BAAAAANGGGGGG!

  A deafening explosion roared through the crystal, nearly tearing it from Lyra’s hand.

  Then…

  Silence.

  The color drained from her face.

  She stood up slowly, heart pounding in her chest, the warm moment with Roxy already fading like smoke.

  The true battlefield wasn't here, beneath the divine light that shielded Stellar.

  It was where her sister was.

  Selini.