INVASION

The sun dipped below the treetops of Delria, casting an amber glow over the towering forests and lively villages. Despite the inevitable war, the beast folk carried on with an unshaken sense of unity.

Children raced through the streets, their laughter echoing through the winding paths of the capital. Market stalls bustled with activity, merchants shouting their final sales of the day. The scent of roasted meat and fresh herbs filled the air as families gathered for evening meals, strengthening their spirits for the coming days.

At the heart of the city, a large training ground sat in the open, warriors sparring and refining their skills under the fading light. Among them was the newly formed elite squad—handpicked by Cleon for the secret mission into Nordia. They stood together, some stretching, some adjusting their gear, while others simply watched their comrades in the distance.

Jade cracked his knuckles. "Still no movement from Nordia," he muttered.

Azura, who stood beside him, responded, "They're stalling for a reason. But the longer they wait, the stronger we become."

Pero, perched on a wooden railing, rolled his eyes. "All this waiting is getting on my nerves. If they're going to come, they should just com

The squad fell into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city filling the space between them. For all their differences, they shared the same purpose. The same determination. The same fate.

Then, the sky screamed.

A high-pitched whistling sound, like a banshee's wail, cut through the peaceful night. Conversations halted. Laughter faded. Warriors froze mid-swing.

For a brief second, the world held its breath.

Then—impact.

A devastating explosion erupted in the heart of the capital. The ground roared as an inferno of destruction consumed everything in its path. Buildings crumbled instantly, shattered into nothing but dust and debris. The once-lively streets were drowned in flames.

The shockwave tore through the city, launching beast folk off their feet like ragdolls. Fires erupted across rooftops. Homes collapsed. Bodies—so many bodies—lay still in the rubble.

The new squad, standing at the training grounds, was thrown to the ground by the force of the blast. Pero's ears rang, his vision blurry as he pushed himself up. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Jade stumbled forward, his heart pounding as he took in the sight before him—what was once a bustling city was now a nightmare of fire and ruin.

Sylve, coughing violently from the thick smoke, grabbed onto the nearest post to steady himself. "What… what just happened?"

Azura's hands were clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palm. "They bombed us."

The words barely made sense in her own mouth, but the truth was undeniable. Nordia had struck first. And they had struck hard.

The air was thick with the screams of the dying. Warriors, civilians, children—no one had been spared.

Pero's hands trembled as he turned to the others. "This… this wasn't war. This was a slaughter."

The ground still rumbled beneath them, smaller explosions following in the wake of the first. Smoke and dust filled the sky, blocking out the stars.

Azura wiped soot from her face, eyes burning with rage. "We have to move. Now. We're sitting ducks out here."

Jade turned toward the palace in the distance, or what was left of it. "The king… we have to get to him. If he's alive, he'll be rallying the warriors."

Sylve nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Then let's go."

The squad ran through the destruction, dodging flaming debris and fallen beams. The bodies on the ground became a blur, but the stench of death clung to their noses.

The time for waiting was over.

Delria was at war.

Inside the grand castle of Delria, Cleon had been deep in thought, strategizing his mission when the explosion tore through the city. The walls shook violently, and before he could react, the entire structure groaned as if it were alive, splitting apart. A deafening boom erupted as half of the castle was obliterated—a monstrous shockwave sent debris flying through the air like deadly projectiles.

Cleon instinctively shielded himself, his ears ringing from the force of the blast. Dust and smoke choked the air, and for a moment, all he could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing. Then, the reality of the situation hit him.

"The King!"

Cleon sprinted through the wreckage, leaping over shattered pillars and crushed beams. Flames crackled in the distance, illuminating the once-pristine halls in an eerie orange glow.

Then he saw him.

King Kuru lay pinned beneath a massive boulder, his golden armor dented and soaked in blood. His breathing was shallow, his once-mighty frame struggling to move.

"Hold on, Your Majesty!" Cleon gritted his teeth as he gripped the massive stone with both hands. His muscles tensed, veins bulging as he heaved with everything he had. The weight was unbearable, but failure was not an option.

With a final roar of effort, he lifted the boulder just enough to push it aside. King Kuru gasped, coughing up blood. His wounds were severe.

"Medic!" Cleon bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos.

At that moment, his squad arrived, their expressions filled with urgency and horror at the devastation.

"Cleon, what do we do?!" Azura asked, scanning the room, her voice sharp with panic.

Cleon took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "Get ready. We need to leave soon. The Beserkers will be invading any moment now."

Jade clenched his fists. "Already? After what they just did?!"

"War doesn't wait," Cleon said coldly. He turned back toward the injured king.

The medics rushed in, immediately tending to King Kuru. His breathing was shaky, his eyes fluttering between consciousness and the abyss.

Cleon looked back at his squad. "We don't have time to hesitate. We move soon. This war is only just beginning."

The streets of Fekka rumbled as an army of Beserkers thundered through, their battle cries shaking the very air. Soldiers in sprinted forward, their weapons gleaming under the dim sky.

At the front of the charge was Solomon, the captain of Platoon One—his presence alone sent shockwaves through the ranks of warriors behind him. Not as massive in stature as other Berserkers or his family members, he stands at an average height. His blonde buzz cut gives him a sharp, no-nonsense look, while his piercing blue eyes seem to see straight through anyone. Though lean and athletic rather than bulky, his presence is anything but small—his immense aura commands attention the moment he enters a room. His eyes burned with determination, his sword drawn.

"Move faster!" he roared, his voice like a drum of war. "The time has come! Delria falls today!"

The Beserkers surged forward, their boots pounding against the ground. They could already see the natural barriers of Delria in the distance—their first obstacle.

Solomon smirked. "We're almost there."

The invasion had begun.

The massive stone border of Delria loomed before them, a towering structure meant to keep invaders out. But to Solomon, it was merely an obstacle in his path.

He stepped forward, drawing his sword—the Halo Sword. The blade hummed as it illuminated an intense blue, its glow pulsing with power.

With a single swipe, a crescent-shaped slash of energy burst forth, slicing through the thick stone like paper. He swung a second time, and another portion of the wall crumbled, crashing down in a cloud of dust and debris.

Solomon strode forward, stepping over the broken remnants of Delria's defense. His platoon followed behind him, ready for war.

But there was no one.

The Beserkers slowed, glancing around in confusion. Instead of resistance, they were met with the empty hush of the forest. The towering trees stretched high into the sky, their dense canopy blocking out the sun.

Something wasn't right.

Solomon gripped his sword tighter, scanning the silent terrain. He could feel it—the weight of unseen eyes watching them.

"They must be hiding somewhere," Zaia murmured, stepping beside him. As vice-captain, she was always sharp, always aware of the slightest shifts in their surroundings.

Solomon nodded, his expression hard. "Take half the platoon and head south. I'll lead the rest straight ahead. If you find anything, signal immediately."

Zaia wasted no time. She turned, raising her hand in command. "Move out!"

Half of Platoon One broke off, following Zaia as they disappeared into the forest, their footsteps quickly swallowed by the thick foliage.

Solomon pressed forward with the rest of his warriors, stepping deeper into the heart of Delria's wilderness. The trees stood tall, their twisted branches casting eerie shadows over the ground. The silence was unnatural—no rustling of animals, no wind shifting through the leaves.

Then suddenly—

Chaos.

From above, figures dropped down from the trees like phantoms, their bodies a blur of movement.

Beastfolk.

Half-man, half-animal warriors descended upon them, their bodies blending into the darkness of the trees. Some had feline agility, moving like shadows, others had hulking forms covered in thick fur, fangs bared, claws gleaming.

The battle erupted in an instant.

Solomon dodged an incoming strike from a wolf-like warrior, countering with a vicious upward slash that sent the beast flying. Another lunged from behind, but Solomon spun, swinging his sword in a wide arc. The Halo Sword sliced cleanly through flesh and bone, cleaving the beastfolk in half.

Beserkers and Beastfolk clashed in a brutal dance of blood and steel, weapons clanging, claws tearing, bodies falling.

A tiger-like warrior leapt towards Solomon, fangs bared, claws aimed for his throat. Solomon didn't hesitate—he stepped forward, parrying with the hilt of his sword before driving his knee into the beast's ribs. The warrior howled in pain, but Solomon didn't let up. He grabbed its fur-covered head and slammed it into the ground, snapping its neck instantly.

The battle was in full force, and Solomon grinned.

"So this is how Delria greets us?" he muttered, lifting his sword again. "Good. Let's see how long they last."