The war song echoed on the walls of the stronghold as the Hunters joined in. They had no former training and didn't know the lyrics but they needed a way to ease their nerves. The Mages did not sing, but they chanted their spells, preparing for the calamity to begin.
Ciaran debated with himself whether he should conjure the Storm in its full power, but seeing as some of the Mages around him were even stronger than him; he cast aside his cushion and called it forth.
He joined them in weaving his spells, and ten small tornados slowly grew in size. Each one of them was going to fire away at the incoming hordes, and Ciaran would be free to attack his own.
The first wave of beasts hit the walls. They could not penetrate them and as such, they were smashed and made into mush, but that didn't stop the tide. Wave after wave crashed into the walls, as the Mages tried and failed to push them back.
Thousands died in seconds all over the border as each stronghold was experiencing hell. The wall of flesh that was forming from the carcasses of the smashed beasts was soon going to allow them to pass over the wall.
"VANGUARD AT THE READY!" A General screamed, and the Hunters got into position. As soon as the beasts peaked over the walls, carnage ensued.
With the support of the soldiers, and especially the powerhouses the humans were able to keep their position. But sacrifices were made, and dozens of Hunters died every new wave.
The worst was that the beasts were still not even using their elemental attacks, and had only sent out their Rank Threes and bellow.
Unlike everyone else, Ciaran was having the time of his life. He was able to go all out, and the chaos of the battle was the perfect cover for him to test out his limits. He pushed the Storm to its limits, conjuring eighteen tornados. Each one of them took the lives of hundreds of beasts, and they absorbed a part of their life force, converting it to mana for the boy.
Like a vicious meat grinder, the more he killed the stronger he became, but he was so insignificant to the battle, hardly anyone noticed his descent into madness.
The beasts were coming and coming, and there was no sign that they would ever end. The most powerful of humanity still stayed out of it, as they were preparing themselves to intercept the stronger beasts.
As for the Hunters, the only reason they hadn't fallen yet was because people like the priest and the pugilist were among them. The former healing the vast majority of the wounded, and the latter just killing everything in his vicinity.
The soldiers were also part of the slather but they retreated when they got exhausted, and were replaced by new troops. The Empire valued their lives far more than those of the ragtag team of Hunters.
For two how hours the carnage didn't stop, but then it got worse, as Rank Fours got mixed in the waves. From then on the beast started using their elements as well. The battle became less bloody, but only because nobody could see the blood from all the flashing lights.
Some of the Mages had to take a break, but unless fully out of mana, they were required to keep fighting. Ciaran was still fighting while going all out. His eighteen tornados kept firing, while he conjured icicles in his hands and used them as makeshift guns.
At the start, he had the idea of using chaos to further his connection with his element, but he couldn't. The beasts were coming, and his life was in danger, he focused entirely on firing at the incoming threats.
Little did he know that with every life he took, the Storm stole a little life force from them and gave it to the boy. With every time the process was repeated, the pathway between them was made clearer and sturdier, allowing the element to supply its master with more energy.
But even that had its limits. After six whole hours of fighting, Ciaran fell to his knees, and a rankness soldier came to drag him to the resting area. The soldiers had varying opinions on the Mages. Some were bombarding the creatures but they took it easy so that they wouldn't strain themselves.
The soldiers detested them, and some were even thrown in the front as at least there they wouldn't be lazy. Others gave it their all and even collapsed when they ran out of energy. With those, the soldiers were more lenient. But monsters like Ciaran were rare, and the soldiers were even willing to personally supply him with food and a place to rest.
In their estimate, he was easily doing the job of five Mages, and he never complained. Even if his presence wasn't felt as much as the powerhouses, he had still saved countless lives, and as such they had given him one small room where he could rest, and recover his strength.
The boy wanted to protest, but as soon as he was left alone he fell asleep. So many hours of full-powered casting had drained his soul empty and he would need days to regenerate to his peak.
Outside the battle raged on for four more hours. After that, the weakest of the beasts were dead, and day one was over. The sun was still up, but the animals had stopped their attack.
Humanity couldn't rest tho as the beast didn't leave, they just went outside of the range of the Mages and settled there. Every so often glancing at the humans, and licking their lips. There was no risk they would ever grow hungry, as there was a mountain of meat on the ground, and a few rivers of blood running on top of it.
About half of the Hunters from both nations were dead. The ones who were still alive were collapsing on the wall. The medics and the healers were working overtime because they knew that night was approaching, and with it, the nocturnal waves would begin.
"From experience, The Monster Horde only lasts three days maximum. And the second day is the worst for most people. Every night there is a second part of the daily invasion, and it's always many times more annoying to deal with. You will face creatures that will ambush you, they will come from where you least expect them to, and even the Mages will be in danger." Said a General, trying his best not to address the spell casters with spite.
"Rest, eat, and if you can sleep, because your vacation is over. Tonight our work begins." He said, and the mood in the stronghold had gone somber. Every cheerful smile that had appeared when they realized they had survived, was now gone.
In other strongholds, other Generals were giving out speeches as well. Some even managed not to depress their soldiers. At the Brigadier's base, Diana was sitting in his office, helmet off, and snoring.
She had fought to the bitter end of the day, and it was almost time for her to shine. She would show off her real powers tonight in tandem with the full moon.
The few people that were either on watch or just couldn't find it in them to sleep were talking about the 'heroes' of the battlefield.
The Crimson Knight was one of them. It was Diana, but her armor was covered in so much blood and guts that people couldn't even see a hint of the silver hue under them.
"Did you see how the Lady ripped them all to shreds? She looked like she was dancing all over the battlefield. Everywhere she went there was fresh monster blood." One of the soldiers said, and everyone be they soldier or hunter, cheered at the mention of her name.
Another hero was the priest. He killed his fair share of beasts too, but he healed so many people, that it could be said that he single-handedly saved a whole stronghold worth of people by himself.
People were praying to him and to his God, even if the illiterate ones didn't really know who that was.
One of the more crazy stories was that of the pugilist. He didn't stay on the wall with the rest of them. He dived right into the horde and killed his way forward. It was only when the beasts retreated that he came back.
He was as strong if not stronger than most Brigadiers, so when he got involved personally, things got quite bloody.
Humanity had far fewer powerhouses, but the Beast Tide only contained the weakest of the Tundra, the ones who could not survive, not to mention thrive in it.
As such, no matter what happened in the next few days, it was expected that extinction would be prevented. Now it was only a matter of what the cost of salvation would be.