The crater to the south had become a blur of violet light and kinetic shockwaves.

  Rafael and the Second Knight were locked in a dance that defied the physics of the mortal world. Rafael was being pushed back, outmatched in raw speed and overwhelming strength—but he possessed a territory that no amount of sacrifice or hard work could reach.

  He moved on Genius Instinct.

  Rafael wasn't tracking the Knight’s blade with his eyes; his body simply knew where the death-blow would land before the Knight even swung. He slipped through gaps in the air, his movements fluid and haunting.

  However, genius has its limits.

  The Knight lunged, a massive overhead strike shattering the ground. Even as Rafael twisted away, the shockwave caught him, sending him sliding backward across the jagged stone. Against an opponent who had traded his soul for power, instinct was a shield, but it wasn't yet a sword.

  The Knight stood panting, his demonic armour steaming, his eyes burning with the price he had paid to win.

  In the center of the ruins, the tide was turning.

  Lilith and Harry moved like a pincer. Every time the Fifth Knight tried to mount an offensive, Harry’s acidic saliva forced him to break his stance. The moment the Knight faltered, Lilith’s massive tail whipped from the shadows, striking him with the force of a falling tree.

  Between the airborne toxins and the relentless physical pressure, the Knight was finally starting to crumble.

  Nearby, Velvet was a streak of crimson.

  She dodged the Fourth Knight’s projectiles with a hair-breadth precision that spoke of a woman at her absolute limit. Both were teetering on the edge of collapse, their mana reserves flickering like dying stars.

  On the northern flank, the violence had become primal.

  Claire had lost herself to the hunger, her attacks so ferocious and chaotic that the First Lady Knight’s analytical calm was finally shattering. For the first time, the hunter looked concerned.

  She was no longer fighting a Ghoul; she was fighting a force of nature.

  Against the Third Knight, the "Crimson Duo" was holding the line.

  Sera’s execution-mode blade roared, the red plasma allowing her to slice through the Knight’s demonic strength. Every time the Knight tried to corner her, a high-velocity special round from Steve forced him to retreat.

  They were a perfect machine of sword and lead.

  But the sky held the most spectacular sight of all.

  Aether was locked in a high-speed duel with Gerard, his drones creating a shifting kaleidoscope of shields and fire. But as he parried another of the Wyvern Master’s lances, Aether looked down at the ruins.

  He saw his team—exhausted, bleeding, and surrounded.

  "Disengage Execution Mode," Aether commanded the Jet AI.

  "Rescue Mode: ON. Objective: Extraction of all allies at the primary rally point."

  The Jet, which had been acting as his shield against the Wyvern swarm, banked hard toward the ground. A cluster of Wyverns tried to intercept it, but Aether didn't even turn his head.

  He launched a plasma missile from his shoulder, incinerating the lead monster in a flash of violet heat.

  "Not on my watch," he muttered.

  Suddenly, a massive kinetic blow slammed into his right side.

  His drones snapped into a 360-degree shield just in time to absorb the brunt of Gerard’s spear, but the force sent Aether spinning through the air.

  "You're ignoring me already?" Gerard mocked, his Wyvern banking for another pass.

  "Apologies," Aether replied, his thrusters firing to stabilize his suit.

  "I have a schedule to keep."

  On the ground, the perimeter was a slaughterhouse.

  Cassey was at her absolute breaking point, her support fields flickering. Aoi was a blur of black tentacles, her uniform unrecognizable under the layers of demon blood.

  "It’s... it’s not finishing," Cassey wheezed, her voice trembling.

  Aoi looked at her and offered a faint, tired smile—the smile of someone who had accepted the chaos.

  "Right?"

  As Aoi turned back to the horde, her gaze accidentally drifted toward the jagged peaks of the surrounding mountains.

  High above the carnage, a lone figure stood, watching the battle with a cold, detached intensity.

  Their eyes locked for a heartbeat—a jolt of pure ice shooting down Aoi's spine.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  In the next blink, the mountain was empty.

  The figure was gone.

  10 Minutes Remaining.

  The static in Lilith’s ear suddenly cleared, replaced by the rhythmic, cold pulse of the Jet’s AI.

  [WRAPPER JET TO CAPTAIN. APPROACHING RALLY POINT COORDINATES. ARRIVAL IN NINE MINUTES.]

  The news hit Lilith like a shot of adrenaline.

  Her eyes snapped toward the chaos surrounding them.

  "Everyone! Get to the western flank!" her voice boomed over the noise of battle, projected by her mana.

  "The extraction is coming! We will have a thirty-second window! Move now!"

  The battlefield shifted instantly.

  The Wrappers and their allies began a desperate, coordinated retreat toward the designated zone—but not everyone was listening.

  In the center of the ruins, Claire was too far gone.

  She was a storm of teeth and claws, the Ghoul hunger having completely drowned out Lilith’s voice. She continued her savage assault on the First Knight Lady, oblivious to the world outside her prey.

  To the south, Rafael was in a similar state of trance.

  Locked in a struggle where a single second of distraction meant death, his brain had filtered out everything but the Knight’s purple-glowing blade.

  Meanwhile, Velvet heard the call, but she hesitated.

  Her crimson eyes flickered with a sudden, sharp doubt.

  After they've seen me like this... after they know I’m a vampire... am I still allowed to go back? Do I even have a home to return to?

  "I’m not letting you leave like this," the Fourth Knight’s voice dragged her back to reality.

  It was a low, hollow sound.

  He unleashed a barrage of mana shards, pinning her down.

  On the northern flank, Sera and Steve began their tactical withdrawal.

  "You heard her, Sera," Steve grunted, firing a three-round burst to keep the Third Knight at bay.

  Sera offered a tired smirk, her red plasma blade humming.

  "I guess the fun stops here."

  "What makes you think you can leave?"

  The pair froze for a fraction of a second.

  It was the first time the Third Knight had spoken. His voice was cold, disciplined, and heavy with the weight of an ancient soldier. He settled into a low, lethal stance, his claymore glowing with black fire.

  Despite the pressure, the retreat continued.

  Lilith and Harry fell back toward the west, Harry’s acidic breath creating a smokescreen that masked their movement. The Fifth Knight pursued them relentlessly, but their combined defense held firm.

  As Steve and Sera reached the rally point, Steve didn't stop.

  He pivoted, his eyes locking onto the Knight currently pinning Velvet down. Without a word, he levelled his rifle and fired a high-velocity red round.

  The shot caught the Fourth Knight in the shoulder, the kinetic force knocking him off balance and shattering his concentration.

  Velvet looked up, her eyes wide with shock and confusion as Steve reloaded his weapon.

  "Didn't you hear her?" Steve barked at the vampire, his gaze never leaving the enemy.

  "Fall back to the position. Now!"

  Those five words were all Velvet needed.

  The doubt vanished, replaced by a fierce, desperate surge of loyalty. She didn't hesitate; she turned and bolted toward the group, falling into formation.

  The AI’s voice chimed again:

  [FIVE MINUTES TO LOCATION. PREPARE FOR HIGH-SPEED PICKUP.]

  At the very edge of the zone, Aoi and Cassey used their tentacles to lift the remaining wounded.

  It wasn't a gentle process—the injured soldiers groaned as the black appendages hoisted them into the air—but in this chaos, comfort was a luxury they couldn't afford.

  As the group huddled together, their backs to one another, two shadows remained isolated in the distance:

  Claire and Rafael.

  Still lost in their private hells.

  The clock on the horizon: 5 Minutes Remaining.

  As the group coalesced at the western rally point, Aoi’s eyes darted frantically through the smoke.

  She was the first to realize the gap in their formation.

  "Where are they?" she demanded, her voice rising over the din.

  "Where are Claire and Rafael?"

  Lilith didn't look back.

  She kept her eyes locked on the horizon, though the tip of her tail twitched with a nervous, rhythmic beat.

  "Sometimes," she said, her voice tight and forcedly clinical, "we can’t save them all."

  Despite her words, the slight tremor in her tone gave her away.

  She wasn't just leaving soldiers behind; she was leaving family.

  Their grim reunion was cut short.

  The Third, Fourth, and Fifth Knights had closed the distance, forming a lethal semi-circle around the extraction zone.

  The Fourth Knight, his shoulder armour still smoking from Steve’s earlier intervention, glared through his visor.

  "You were the one who interrupted my hunt," the Knight hissed, levelling his palms toward Steve.

  "I’ll make you pay for that interference."

  He unleashed a barrage of magic voids.

  Steve was ready.

  He fired a sequence of red rounds, the collisions creating a chain of blinding explosions that illuminated the ruins.

  While Steve held the long-range specialist at bay, the Third and Fifth Knights lunged.

  Velvet met the Fifth Knight head-on, her demonic speed matching his blow-for-blow, preventing him from breaking the perimeter.

  For the disciplined Third Knight, Harry unleashed a cloud of concentrated toxic mist.

  The Knight was instantly blinded, but even in the haze, his instincts were sharp. He parried Lilith’s mana voids at the last possible second.

  However, he couldn't account for the secondary strike.

  The combined weight of Aoi and Cassey’s tentacles slammed into him, staggering the warrior and pushing him back toward the rubble.

  High above, the Wrapper Jet was a roaring streak of silver, closing the distance at terminal velocity.

  Meanwhile, on the far side of the battlefield, a heavy blow caught Claire across the cheek.

  The impact didn't send her deeper into her blood-frenzy.

  It snapped her back to her senses.

  She stumbled, her hand rising to touch the bruised skin.

  The Lady Knight paused, her posture cautious.

  "Finally quieted down, have you?"

  Claire looked at her, her eyes vibrating with a cold, focused fury.

  "How dare you," she whispered.

  "How dare you touch my face. That is a transgression I cannot forgive."

  In a blur of motion, Claire lunged.

  The Lady Knight barely managed to bring her blade down to guard her midsection before the strike landed.

  The kinetic force was staggering, sending the Knight skidding back dozens of yards, her boots carving deep grooves into the earth.

  The Knight smirked, coughing through the dust.

  "I didn't take you for the type to care so much about your looks, Ghoul."

  "I don't," Claire spat, reaching down to hoist a massive jagged rock over her head.

  "But this face... this body... it belongs to Him! You don't get to mark what is His!"

  She hurled the boulder with enough force to shatter stone.

  Before the Knight could even process the logic of the statement, Claire turned and bolted toward the pickup coordinates, her speed tripling as she abandoned the duel.

  The Lady Knight stood frozen for a heartbeat.

  Then, realizing the escape plan, she narrowed her eyes and gave chase.

  Back at the rally point, the Jet’s AI boomed over the speakers:

  [ARRIVAL IN SIXTY SECONDS. DEPLOYING HARPOON LINES.]

  Lilith saw Claire’s silhouette sprinting toward them through the haze.

  A wave of relief washed over her.

  It was immediately replaced by a fresh spike of dread as she looked toward the South.

  "Rafael," Lilith whispered, her eyes searching the distant, purple-lit crater.

  "Where are you, you arrogant idiot?"

  The clock on the horizon: 1 Minute Remaining.

  To be continued…

  ? MYukH. All rights reserved.