Chapter 42: The first Wave

The night air was thick with tension. The wind carried the distant echoes of screams and the heavy stench of decay. Azrael stood at the edge of the village, his fingers gripping the hilt of his sword as he watched the dark horizon. The moon, half-hidden behind swirling clouds, barely illuminated the coming horror.

Beside him, the girls he had rescued—Selene, Naya, Lyra, and a few others—stood tense and ready. Their makeshift weapons trembled in their hands, but their eyes held a burning resolve. They had no choice but to fight.

Then, the first sounds of the approaching enemy reached them. A bone-chilling chorus of low growls, the crackling of dried flesh shifting unnaturally, and the heavy stomp of countless feet against the earth.

"They're here," Selene whispered, her voice barely audible.

Azrael exhaled sharply. "No one runs. We hold this line."

The others nodded, fear flashing in their eyes, but they didn't move.