The Beast Tide (2)

The fortress walls of some average city governed by lesser clans trembled and fell.

A deafening roar tore through the skies, shaking the ground beneath the cities. The earth groaned under the weight of millions of stampeding beasts, their monstrous forms blotting the horizon like an unrelenting tide of death.

Some mighty cities, built to withstand sieges and wars, now teetered on the brink of collapse within minutes as chaos unfolded within its walls.

The streets of some cities governed by intermediate and lesser clans were a warzone.

People screamed, abandoning their homes, businesses, and even their loved ones in sheer panic. The once-bustling market district, filled with traders haggling over rare minerals and enchanted artifacts, was now a wasteland of overturned stalls and shattered glass. Once valued beyond measure, precious gemstones lay forgotten in the dirt, trampled under the desperate feet of fleeing citizens.

Restaurants and business buildings stood ablaze, their structures unable to withstand the inferno caused by stray magical attacks and rampaging fire-based beasts. The scent of burning flesh mixed with the acrid smoke stench suffocates the air. In some alleys, the wounded were dragged away by their families, while others were left behind, too injured to move, their cries swallowed by the deafening chaos.

Above the cities, the sky was no safer.

Winged monstrosities, each the size of small airships, circled overhead, their predatory eyes scanning for prey. Some dove into the streets, snatching people and beasts alike, while others launched volleys of energy blasts, reducing entire buildings to rubble.

At the forefront of the carnage, towering above the sea of beasts, strode the Emperor-rank creatures—the apex predators of this monstrous horde. Their presence alone warped the air around them, distorting space with sheer elemental pressure. Each was surrounded by an elite guard of King-rank and Knight-rank beasts, their disciplined formations starkly contrasting with the madness around them.

As they rained down destruction on the lands.

....

At the Geb Fortress.

The Patrician of the Earth Clan stood atop the city walls, his gaze locked onto the battlefield below. His expression, typically an impenetrable mask of control, was twisted with frustration. His fists clenched at his sides as he exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the simmering anger within him.

"Those mana cores could have been mine," he muttered, voice laced with irritation. "I was so damn close."

A Legend-rank mana core—an unparalleled resource that could elevate his power beyond its current peak. And yet, just when he had been on the verge of acquiring it, everything had spiraled into chaos. Now, instead of securing his ascension, he was watching his cities burn, his forces stretched to their limits.

His jaw tightened as he glanced toward a distant battlefield that his sense could only feel but couldn't see due the distance, where a colossal storm of destruction raged between two titanic beings. The Thunder Wolf and the unknown Legend-ranked beast clashed.

And that was the problem.

With those two forces locked in combat, the tides of beasts had grown even more erratic. The intelligent ones among them had seized the opportunity, driving their hordes into the city like an unrelenting flood.

A sharp impact jolted the wall beneath him, snapping his attention downward. A six-legged reptilian beast, its hide thick as iron, slammed its tail against the barrier. Cracks spiderwebbed across the enchanted stone, groaning under the strain.

"Damn it," he muttered, flexing his fingers.

With a mere thought, the ground beneath the beast erupted. Monolithic stone spears shot up, impaling the creature in an instant. It let out a strangled roar before collapsing in a heap. But even as it fell, more beasts surged forward, some feasting on their fallen kin in a frenzy.

The Patrician took a slow breath, then turned toward the warriors stationed along the wall. His voice was steady but carried an undeniable weight of authority. "I will not be joining the battle immediately."

A ripple of surprise passed through those closest to him. Some seasoned commanders remained silent, waiting for an explanation, while others exchanged uncertain glances.

He continued, his tone unwavering. "Am sure most of you must have noticed the new aura that was released before the beasts started, their stamped. The aura of a Legend rank beasts, that hasn't yet been recorded and is an unknown, but what I do know is that it's a Thunder beasts like the Thunder wolf.

The battle between those two Legend-rank beasts is unpredictable. If the balance shifts in the wrong direction, it could mean the collapse of our defenses in an instant. I need to be prepared for that moment. If either of them turns their attention toward us or something worse emerges, I will act."

His eyes darkened as he surveyed the horizon, where the tide of beasts showed no signs of relenting. "Until then, you will hold the fortress. Do not waste your energy. Our forces must last for as long as necessary. Mobilize defensive formations and maintain the barriers. I will intervene when the battle escalates beyond our control."

The warriors, though tense, nodded in understanding. The Patrician was not abandoning the fight—he was ensuring that it would be at the moment of greatest impact when he did step in.

With one final glance at the battlefield, he turned away, disappearing into the depths of the fortress to prepare. The war was far from over, and he would not be caught unready.

….

The sky burned with streaks of elemental energy as warriors and beasts clashed in a battle that shook the very foundation of the continent.

Chaos arose from the fortress walls to the distant battlefields surrounding the strongholds. The air trembled under the weight of battle cries and deafening roars, and the scent of blood and scorched earth thickened with every passing moment.

The Earth Clan's warriors stood as an unyielding bulwark, their mastery over the terrain giving them an edge against the rampaging hordes. Jagged stone pillars erupted from the ground, impaling beasts by the dozens. Enchanted fortifications reinforced the defenses, five more took place yet for every beast that fell, .

The battlefield was divided by ranks, as warriors with higher ranks took the front row while trying to reduce the number of lesser beasts for the lower-ranked warriors.

The numbers of Basic and Intermediate rank beasts couldn't be counted, but it can be assumed to be nearing a billion if not more.

A few thousand advanced and Expert rank warriors were put in to bring them down because most of the Novice and Intermediate rank fellows were kids and teenagers who were inexperienced and just caused more causalities during the battle. Still, these just added more pressure to both the advanced and expert rank warriors to fight the Advanced and Knight-ranked beasts and the thousands of individuals who were left to kill the lesser beasts who outnumbered them one to a million.

Against the Advanced and Knight-ranked beasts, seasoned advanced and expert warriors unleashed their full might.

Swordsmen danced between massive fangs, their weapons cleaving through thick hides with precise strikes. Spear-wielders weaved through battle formations, their enchanted tips glowing as they pierced through armored beasts.

A veteran warrior, his armor cracked and stained with blood, roared as he swung his massive Warhammer into the skull of a charging Knight-ranked beast—a monstrous boar with molten tusks. The ground shook as the beast collapsed, yet another took its place immediately.

Array masters and warriors of intermediate and lesser clans hurled fireballs, summoned waves of ice, and cracked the earth, but even they struggled to keep up. Spells that should have devastated the battlefield barely thinned the monstrous ranks.

The battlefield became a clash of sovereigns, as Master-ranked warriors engaged in brutal duels with King—and Queen-ranked beasts.

A swordswoman wrapped in flames clashed with a Fire Lion Queen, their battle turning the ground into molten slag. A Water Clan Master from a lesser clan under the Earth clan fought a Serpent King, his body moving like liquid. Both were locked in an intricate dance of flowing strikes and counterattacks.

These were the rulers of their kind, neither side willing to bow.

But the war did not stop for them. For every King or Queen engaged in battle, countless lesser beasts surged forward, forcing warriors to divide their attention between fighting their equals and protecting their subordinates.

Then came the real commanders of the battlefield.

The grandmasters of the human clans fought with calculated precision, their presence alone shifting the tides of battle. Each one could level entire armies with their power, but against the Emperor—and Empress-ranked beasts, they found themselves evenly matched.

A Grandmaster of a Poison Clan under the Earth clan coated his spear with a little poison and lunged at an Empress-ranked Lightning bird. Their battle caused devastation to both land and sky.

A lesser clan Thunder Grandmaster, lightning crackling like a storm incarnate, fought against an Emperor-ranked Thunder Drake, their energies clashing in a dazzling display of power.

These warriors were not just fighters; they were commanders, their minds sharp enough to see the flow of battle. They directed reinforcements, called for retreats when necessary, and exploited weakness in the enemy's seemingly endless tide.

The War Rages On

Despite the overwhelming numbers, the warriors of the strongholds refused to yield.

Walls of earth and fire kept the beasts at bay. Lightning scorched the sky, rending massive gaps in the enemy's forces. Blades met claws, elements met roars, and the battlefield became chaotic.

The strongholds still stood.

But for how long?

The beast tide was unrelenting. There was no end in sight, no reinforcement strong enough to erase the sheer number advantage. If the warriors faltered for even a moment if their defenses broke even once—

This continent would fall.