Round Three: Survival in the Tiger’s Mouth
A silver-armored swordsman stared in shock as the black, agile figure moved freely amidst the siege. She leaped onto a comrade’s shoulder, her five long, sharp fingers like red-hot irons that effortlessly pierced through the helmet without reaching the skull. The shadow jumped from one soldier to another, light as a butterfly—yet a butterfly of death.
He kept retreating, his combat swords, which usually functioned smoothly during training, now failing to work properly. He swung them wildly in a futile attempt to ward off death that could strike at any moment. All he could do was pray that the mages inside the armor tower would cast “Protection from Fear” in time—before courage left him entirely. A bright flash of electricity erupted from the top of the tower, striking the swordsman and spreading outward, killing four more soldiers before hitting its actual target. Even then, its weakened power only made her scream and roll on the ground.
It was attacking everyone indiscriminately, even regular soldiers… Hunter trembled, yet somehow thought of Sayers’ parents—they had been so prescient.
More destructive spells continued to be fired from the armor tower, as if a fireworks display had begun in the camp. It seemed the mages were determined to hold out for reinforcements, unconcerned about the number of casualties. All that mattered was protecting the armor weapons stored inside, for soldiers were merely expendable. After all, those crystallized products of Agus’s mysterious magic were the true precious resources of war, weren’t they?
Suddenly, Hunter saw a flash of light in the darkness outside the camp—brighter than the chain lightning emitted by the armor tower. Before he could figure out what it was, a small comet trailing flames rushed toward them. It seemed to be a fire meteor capable of destroying everything, possibly created only by the legendary “Meteor Burst” spell. Time seemed to slow down hundreds of times. Hunter watched in horror as the meteor grew larger in his eyes. The intense heat warped the scene, and the air magnified it into something huge, like a mountain. His hair at the forehead burned and curled first, then his scalp began to burn painfully…
“Pah!” Sayers rushed over with unimaginable agility and pushed Hunter to the ground.
The fire comet flew just above the defensive walls, leaving behind scorched traces. It made a slight turn above them, seemingly adjusting its course, before plunging into the upper part of the armor tower.
All magical attacks stopped, and the armor tower fell silent for a moment.
The steel tower suddenly expanded, with flames bursting out of every crack and observation slit, like a balloon being blown up, before exploding in a massive blast, like a volcanic eruption.
Shards of the armor tower flew everywhere in the shockwave, signaling the complete fall of the camp. Amid the rain of fire lighting up the night sky, the few remaining Agus soldiers began to flee.
“Go—throw it now!” Hunter was blown off the barrier by the shockwave. Only sheer luck prevented him from being burned or crushed by flying steel shards, but he was thrown so hard that he lost all sense of direction. Sayers shouted unclearly, almost dragging him along as he ran, while Hunter stumbled after them, noticing that Sayers’ cheeks were bleeding profusely, with blood even spraying from his mouth—apparently an arrow had pierced his cheeks.
A black elf with small horns on its forehead landed in front of their escape route, carrying a dead Agus soldier—its fully armored swordswoman limbs hanging limp in its hands, like a tattered ragdoll.
Hunter screamed in terror, gesturing wildly, unaware that his staff had long been lost. Sayers, his face covered in blood, was also stunned, but fortunately, before he could recklessly swing his huge fists, he realized the elf’s attention wasn’t on them at all. The elf tilted its head slightly, silent, just like the others. As long as they weren’t attacked, they ignored the fleeing Agus soldiers, standing quietly among the corpses as if waiting for something.
Sayers pulled Hunter around a corner, fleeing desperately from the camp suddenly enveloped in terrifying silence and pressure.
The black elves continued to stand, waiting—
A shadow swept across the night sky, seemingly in the blink of an eye, and all the light dimmed instantly.
Camp commander Lord Clive lay in the chaos, his left leg trapped under a collapsed steel support, unable to move. He had always relied on the power of the construct tower to protect himself as much as possible, and it was because of this that he managed to survive the violent explosion that melted half of the tower.
A pair of black, steel-colored feet landed on the tower, causing the half-melted construct to shake slightly. With a rough grinding sound of metal, a demonic giant figure emerged through the open ceiling.
Its tall, monstrous body reflected the cold starlight, its folded steel wings hanging like cloaks behind it. A pair of fiery dark red eyes were the only vivid colors on its body. It scanned the inside of the construct tower but didn’t linger on Clive, clearly not looking for survivors.
“Demon… demon…” Clive struggled to get up, but severe burns and fractures made it extremely difficult for him to move. He reached for an armor suit nearby. If he could activate it, the suit would automatically fit around him, acting as an exoskeleton, perhaps allowing him to escape—
The demon leaned on the melted shell of the construct tower, seemingly unaware of Clive’s attempts.
Just a little more. Before losing consciousness, Clive finally managed to activate the armor—the silver-white suit disassembled itself before seemingly being drawn to cover Clive’s body, fitting tightly together. Even the steel support pressing on him was pushed aside. Although Clive had no strength left, it was clear that the armor could move solely under the control of its operator’s mind.
Cleven endured the intense pain and took a stiff step, trying to rush toward the hidden door nearby. But a sudden, immense force pressed him to the ground, with countless tiny, strange arc-shaped electric flashes spreading across the floor, spreading throughout the Construct Tower and all the Construct devices stored there—including Cleven’s armor. Cleven screamed as his armor began to deform—irregularly, crushing every bone in his body like a meat grinder in an instant. Everything inside the ruined Construct Tower was twisting and warping. The Construct weapons entangled with each other and fused with the tower itself, releasing some kind of energy that flowed into the black demon’s palm, which had already entered the Construct Tower. “Insignificant.” The demon’s voice sounded like clashing steel, harsh and grating. As dawn broke, Hunter and Sayers, who had been wandering aimlessly like headless flies, finally got a chance to catch their breath. Sayers sat down and downed the remaining wine in the flask in two gulps—remarkably, he hadn’t lost it yet. “Damn…” Sayers clutched his cheek, his teeth gritted as blood mixed with wine seeped from his wound. “Who are those guys…” Hunter looked around blankly, not knowing where they were. As far as the eye could see, there wasn’t a single soul in the vast wasteland; it seemed as if only the two useless mages remained. The bloody, terrifying night was still vivid in their minds, like a real nightmare. “God only knows…” Sayers’ voice was still slurred, but much clearer now: “Probably some newer, more advanced weapons… We can’t keep taking hits without fighting back, right?” “But they… We need to hurry to the nearest camp and report to our superiors!” Hunter suddenly stood up as if energized. They probably hadn’t gone too far—the nearest camp was… where was it? Damn, which direction was the Construct Tower he saw during the night watch? “Forget it…” Sayers lay sprawled on the ground: “Our superiors are far better informed than us. Besides, those black demons didn’t wipe us out completely—someone must have already reported to the main force… We’d better rest and return to our unit quickly. It would be terrible if they thought we were deserters!” The two mages walked toward the city of Vatan for hours without even getting a sip of water. Years of conflict had turned the edges of the Tanori Plain into a deserted buffer zone. Even though the Agus army had gradually taken the upper hand in recent years, few residents wanted to move there to settle and farm. Even the Agus nobles who controlled most of the Tanori Plain didn’t want to—better wait until those troublesome Night Elves were completely wiped out. Finally, the two met a patrol as they hoped, but instead of a field hospital, the mage leading the Construct warhorses took them straight to the front-line command post—a formidable fortress centered around two towering Construct iron towers. “There are about ten of them—maybe more. I can’t see clearly; they’re too fast…”
“Think carefully—you’re a mage! You should have sharp observational skills! We need to know the exact number of enemies as precisely as possible!”
“I’m sorry, I… I really didn’t see clearly… Oh, they seem to have very powerful attacks. I don’t know if it’s magic or something else—just one strike and the fortification tower was destroyed…”
“Hm? Be clearer!”
Hunter wore a gloomy expression, in pain all over, yet forced himself to stay focused amid the relentless questioning.
“How would I know? Oh, my face hurts so much—”
“Be serious! You’re a mage! You have the duty to provide us with detailed battle information! It’s your responsibility as an Agus soldier!”
“Yes! I’m a mage! You’re a mage, you’re a mage, and I’m a mage too! Why do I have to sit here and be interrogated like a criminal? It hurts—no one is going to treat me?”
Sayes snapped angrily at the interrogators, shouting loudly.
“It seems we can’t get any more information from these survivors.” The mage in the white robe adorned with golden patterns turned away from the monitor. “Respected Miss Moriel, those Night Elves have indeed borrowed dark powers… Such evil deeds must not be forgiven! We should launch a large-scale offensive immediately!”
“Retreat our forces—all the forward fortification towers that are too far away must be withdrawn right away.” The female mage in red gazed at the magical map of the battlefield, her clear voice echoing through the command hall.
“But… but we’ve already gone deep into the Sleeping Forest and established solid forward positions…” Another mage hesitantly voiced his opinion.
“Solid?” The female mage raised her head coldly, staring at him. “I don’t consider a frontline that can be easily breached, with three rear camps completely destroyed in just one night, to be solid. Do you really think hiding in iron shells makes you invincible?”
“…Then how do we explain this? By doing this, we’re giving up all the gains we’ve made so far. The Council won’t agree! Besides, it’s just a few demonized elves—they’re no match for high-level battle mages…” Although the newly appointed deputy commander was strict and cold, never smiling, the mages still cautiously argued with her, which was unimaginable during the previous regime.
“Don’t forget there’s also that iron demon that can easily destroy any of our current fortifications! So what if we need to explain? Do you really want to be like Daguras, never having to explain anything to anyone?”
At the mention of Daguras’ name, the mages fell silent—they wisely ended the discussion and began making preparations. Soon, only the female mage in red remained in the large command room.
The mage rubbed her beautiful forehead tiredly, looking for a place to rest, but then chuckled—she had ordered all the chairs in the command room removed after Daguras perished in the flames.
Can’t she tone down her arrogance and bide her time? She causes trouble all the time—such a headache.
The image of that construct, carrying a great sword and dressed in tattered clothes, walking back and forth at the entrance to the Stone of the Future, blurred and merged with the steel monster with huge black wings—indistinguishable.