Injuries

The battlefield, once a cacophony of violence and death, fell into an eerie silence as the mole leader vanished beneath the earth. The absence of its relentless attacks left a chilling void, and a palpable tension gripped every soldier's heart. The men and women on the field exchanged anxious glances, their eyes darting to the ground as if expecting the creature to burst forth at any moment. Even the seasoned border guards found themselves unnerved by the mole leader's sudden retreat.

Time seemed to stretch, the silence pressing down like a weight on their shoulders. Each soldier held their breath, straining to hear any hint of movement beneath them, every twitch of earth sending a fresh jolt of fear through their veins. The once vibrant clash of battle had been replaced by a nerve-wracking quiet, amplifying the soldiers' unease. The unknown was more terrifying than the creature's physical presence, the fear of its next strike gnawing at their minds. Whispers of doubt spread among the ranks, and some soldiers gripped their weapons so tightly that their knuckles turned white, their nerves fraying with each passing second.

Joseph, along with his team of awakened warriors, knew all too well what this silence meant. The mole leader was not fleeing in fear—it was recovering. Every second it spent beneath the earth meant it was regaining strength, preparing for another deadly assault. Joseph's sharp gaze scanned the battlefield, his mind racing with the possibilities. They could not afford to wait idly; they had to act.

Take out as many as you can!" Joseph barked, his voice cutting through the silence. His team of awakeners responded with swift precision, launching themselves into the fray with renewed vigor. Flames, vines, and sheer force tore through the ranks of the weaker moles, their numbers dwindling as the awakeners moved with deadly efficiency. Every mole they felled was one less threat to worry about when the leader resurfaced.

For several tense minutes, the battlefield was a whirlwind of destruction. The weaker moles, though fierce, stood little chance against the combined might of Joseph's team. But even as they cut through the lesser enemies, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Joseph's stomach. The mole leader was out there, somewhere beneath them, biding its time.

Then, without warning, it struck.

The mole leader burst from the ground with terrifying speed, reappearing directly behind the border patrol supervisor as he was about to deliver a crushing blow to a unawakened mole. The supervisor barely had time to register the threat before the mole leader's claws ripped into his back, tearing through muscle and sinew with brutal efficiency. A scream of agony tore from the supervisor's lips as he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. The mole leader vanished again, burrowing back into the earth before anyone could react.

Panic surged through the ranks of the border guards once more. The mole leader's sudden attack, its lethal precision, had shaken them to their core. Kagg, still reeling from the assault on the supervisor, turned just in time to see the earth shift near him. Before he could even move, the mole leader surfaced, its claws slashing downward with horrifying speed. Kagg cried out in pain as the creature's claws tore into his shoulder, ripping his arm from his body in a single, savage motion. Blood sprayed into the air as Kagg fell to his knees, clutching the gaping wound where his arm had been.

Damien, one of the seven awakened, moving faster than thought, rushed to Kagg's side. With a swift motion, he conjured a shimmering barrier around them, the protective field glowing with a soft, ethereal light. He pulled Kagg inside the barrier, shielding him from further harm as he hurriedly retreated toward the city gates, the other soldiers watching in stunned silence.

The mole leader disappeared once more, leaving a trail of destruction and despair in its wake. The border guards were dispirited, their morale shattered by the creature's relentless assaults. The air was thick with fear and uncertainty, the once-booming confidence of the awakened warriors now replaced by a grim determination to survive.

But amidst the chaos, Issabelle remained focused. She had been quietly working, channeling her energy into the ground beneath the battlefield. Her eyes closed in concentration, she felt the roots she had created spreading through the earth, intertwining like a vast, living network. With every inch they covered, Issabelle could sense more of the battlefield, each root acting as an extension of her senses. And then, she felt it—a faint tremor, a subtle shift in the soil. The mole leader was on the move.

"Joseph!" she shouted, her voice clear and urgent. "It's coming for you!"

Joseph tensed, his eyes narrowing as he prepared for the attack. He knew the mole would likely go for his blind spot, trying to catch him off guard. With a swift motion, he gathered a large portion of his remaining energy, focusing it into a single, blazing orb of fire. He turned slightly, casting the fireball behind him, hoping to intercept the mole leader before it could strike.

But the mole was craftier than he anticipated. Instead of attacking from behind, it appeared directly in front of him, emerging from the earth with terrifying speed. Joseph's eyes widened in shock as the creature's claws raked across his stomach, tearing through flesh and muscle with brutal force. He stumbled back, pain searing through his body as blood poured from the wound. His vision blurred, the world spinning around him as he fought to remain conscious.

The mole leader disappeared again, burrowing into the ground before Joseph could retaliate. He gasped, clutching his stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. His strength was waning, his energy reserves dangerously low, but he refused to fall. With gritted teeth, he forced himself to stand, his resolve unbroken despite the pain.

The battlefield was a hellscape of death and destruction, but Joseph's eyes burned with determination. He could not let this creature win.