A Watchful Nightmare

The din of battle was never-ending, and fatigue had started to weigh on the minds of most of the combatants present. The siege had lasted a few hours at this point, but relief was also mixed into the exhaustion. The predicted time frame of the battle was four hours max, by the bleakest estimates, judging on monster populations in the area.

While attempting to not become complacent due to their, assumed, near victory, all the participants on this defensive front continued to mercilessly cut down any who'd oppose them. The spearmen skewering the creatures attacking the base of the wall, the archers, now needing to conserve their arrows, taking precise shots at specific targets who attacked at range or swooped from the skies, and the interspersed swordsman protecting the latter two.

With the skies finally clearing of aerial threats, John had a chance to catch his breath. With the rain still plummeting down, he couldn't see far, but, in the distance, he thought that he could finally see the end of this incursion, though he acknowledged it could just be his wishful thinking.

"Do you see that?"

Now that most of the threats they were assigned to take down had been killed, more swordsmen were starting to observe the battle, some talking to each other which John could overhear due to proximity.

"Yeah… It looks like a huge creature is standing in the distance. Is it turning away?"

Following the gaze of the man who spoke, John squinted towards the back of the horde, but he couldn't see anything of note. If what they said was true though, that would mean this battle was almost over and they wouldn't need to fight whatever could be classed as the boss monster of this encounter.

Glancing down at his feet, John let out a sigh of relief while looking across the top of the wall which they fought upon, covered with flowing water stained red by the blood of the fallen. Lifting his weapon once again, John looked around for any straggling enemies to take down when he felt a chill.

It was like an eye had suddenly opened above him, some unknowable, eldritch being gazing down onto the battlefield, bearing tidings of insanity and pain. John could feel a cold sweat break out across his body, noticeable even through the chill of the rain, as his knuckles went white from gripping the handle of his blade.

All around him, the fighting continued as normal. He couldn't understand how they didn't feel it, how they didn't sense it. Something… foreign… wrong, was there.

Shaking… John glanced at his hand and he saw that it was shaking. He had been perfectly composed through the entire battle, but now… He mustered his courage, rallying every fragment of willpower he possessed as he compelled himself to look up.

Slowly, he forced his unwilling muscles to move, he saw the blood-soaked floor, the cluster of men and women standing around him, then, when he looked towards the heavens, he saw nothing other than a heavily overcast sky.

'Did I imagine it?'

He couldn't be sure but, right as he was thinking it was nothing to be concerned with, a high pitched, crescendoing roar echoed from the direction of the monster horde.

Through the obscurity of the rain, John could now see what the two men from before were referring to; the vague outline of a creature much larger than what they'd been facing so far. Unfortunately, it was no longer moving away, instead, it was lumbering towards them. He couldn't give an accurate guess due to the distance and rain but, from his first glimpse, he swore that it was taller than the wall they stood on, and it was moving... fast.

Very soon, most everyone else noticed the new threat as well and, with its appearance, the remaining monsters started to successfully break away from the horde, freed from whatever bound them, though the defenders had no time to celebrate.

"CANONS READY!"

A bustle of movement sparked on the backline of defenders as the mages hurried to get their artillery ready to fire. They were not expecting to be needed for the rest of this battle, so suddenly being called on was unexpected, but not outlandish given the circumstance.

"ARCHERS, FOCUS FIRE!"

No longer sparing their arrows, the entire line of archers started taking shots at, what was now seen to be, a very large lizard moving towards them, covering ground much quicker than any horse, even though it was walking, thanks to its size.

"CANONS FIRE!"

Only a quarter of the cannons were ready, and they all fired as one. Perhaps it was a good thing that only that amount fired though, as the distance made the already inaccurate engines of destruction that much more unlikely to hit and the best that they did was blast shrapnel into its side as the beast was lit up by the blast.

The lizard resembled a komodo dragon lined with brown and green scales, and it stood 4 meters tall with its head raised, like it was right now, however, what made John's face pale wasn't its size. It was the cracks lining its body and the purplish-black smoke which was oozing out of them, and the cold familiarity he felt from it.

[Level: ???

Race: Greater Earth Wyrm (Atrocity)]

With the now much-lessened distance, and the rising anger from being shot at by the cannons, the Wyrm bent its head down, and started to charge.

"CANONS FIRE!"

A second volley, this time composed of a third of the overall number, fired at the rapidly approaching creature with some managing to land a hit, slowing its charge.

The Wyrm visibly stumbled as the smoke cleared, but it didn't give up on its direct approach.

"BRACE!"

Not a second after the shout was given, the creature rammed the side of the wall, buckling the defense as it strained against the natural will to collapse under the combined force and weight of the pseudodragon.

With the sudden impact, a good portion of the defenders were knocked over, with some of the unluckier ones having been standing where the Wyrm collided and were now falling down onto the ground, directly in front of the threat.

Their screams were short-lived as they were either swallowed or crushed almost immediately upon landing on the ground, and numerous spearmen started to try, and fail, to pierce its scales.