As the battlefield settled into a brief, uneasy silence, the air itself seemed to grow heavy. The stench of blood and burning flesh was thick, but something else permeated the surroundings—a presence.
It was subtle at first, an almost imperceptible shift. A vibration beneath the feet. A distant, rhythmic thud… thud… thud… growing louder with each passing second.
Then, the gate pulsed violently, its swirling mass of darkness trembling as if something enormous was about to emerge. The very ground shuddered beneath its weight.
And then—
BOOM.
A massive, clawed foot slammed onto the ground, sending cracks racing across the earth.
Then another.
And then it stepped through fully, emerging from the dark abyss like a nightmare made flesh.
A goblin—but monstrous in size, five times larger than any normal man.
Its skin was a sickly, dark green, covered in thick scars and patches of crude, spiked armor. Each step it took left deep imprints in the soil, its sheer weight pressing down with terrifying force.
Its face was twisted into an ugly sneer, yellowed fangs protruding from its grotesque mouth. Bloodshot eyes glowed faintly in the dark, filled with malice and cruel intelligence—not like the mindless beasts that had come before.
In its massive, muscle-bound hands, it gripped a weapon—a giant wooden club, reinforced with jagged metal spikes hammered into its surface. The crude weapon was easily twice the size of a man, each spike gleaming wickedly under the moonlight.
It took a deep breath, its massive chest expanding, and then—
"GRAAAAAARGH!"
It unleashed a deafening roar, one that sent a shockwave rippling through the battlefield.
The monsters around it howled in response, their hesitation vanishing as frenzied bloodlust took hold once more.
And at its head stood this colossal monstrosity, the commander of the horde.
Its cruel eyes locked onto Seraphine, its lips curling in amusement as if recognizing a worthy opponent.
And then, with thunderous steps, it charged.
Seraphine's cold gaze lifted, locking onto the creature.
Her voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the cacophony. "Reynard, Darius—take the side rear. Cut off their flanks."
The captains, hardened warriors in their own right, did not hesitate. "Understood, Commander!" Reynard bellowed, his voice booming like rolling thunder.
Darius gave a curt nod, gripping his war hammer tighter before turning to his men. "You heard her! Move!"
As they broke formation to flank the horde, Seraphine's gaze shifted to the monstrous goblin looming at the center of the battlefield. A grotesque figure of muscle and raw savagery.
She moved.
The moment her foot pressed against the dirt, she was gone, a blur of motion cutting through the battlefield like a phantom.
The monsters in her path barely had time to react.
One lunged—a hulking beast with razor-sharp claws aiming to tear through her midsection—only for Seraphine to twist just slightly, her body bending at an impossible angle, letting the claws carve through the air where she had been a fraction of a second ago.
Another beast, a twisted creature with a skeletal frame and gaping maw, lunged at her flank. Seraphine's silver eyes flickered, her reflexes sharper than a drawn blade. With a subtle movement of her shoulder, she tilted just out of reach, the creature's jaws snapping down on nothing but empty space.
She kept moving, faster than the eye could follow.
To the untrained observer, it seemed as though she was untouchable, a ghost weaving through a storm of death.
The beasts reacted too late, their claws, fangs, and weapons meeting only air.
A monstrous orc-like creature, wielding a massive axe, roared and brought its weapon down with bone-crushing force.
Seraphine did not stop.
Just before impact, she pivoted at the last moment, the axe carving deep into the dirt where she had been.
A fraction of a second later, she was gone again.
Those watching could barely keep up. She moved as though gravity itself had no hold over her.
The goblin overlord, watching from its vantage point, let out a guttural chuckle.
It recognized a warrior when it saw one.
Seraphine's lips curled into a small smirk as she neared her target.
"Let me see how strong you are."
The goblin's massive eyes narrowed, its grin widening as it raised its colossal weapon.
As she closed the distance, the goblin overlord roared, its deafening bellow shaking the very air around them. Then, with explosive force, it swung down its war hammer, the sheer momentum sending out a powerful gust of wind before the weapon even made contact with the ground.
A normal warrior would have been crushed, reduced to a bloody pulp.
But Seraphine was no normal warrior.
The moment the hammer descended, she vanished.
A flicker of movement—so fast it was almost imperceptible.
Just as the hammer collided with the earth, shattering stone and sending debris flying in all directions, Seraphine reappeared—just inches from the impact site—untouched.
The battlefield trembled under the force of the attack, dust and broken earth rising into the air like a storm, momentarily obscuring her from view.
The goblin overlord lifted its weapon, expecting to see a crushed body beneath it.
Instead, through the clearing dust, Seraphine stood there, unscathed, her expression unbothered.
The goblin's crimson eyes widened, disbelief flashing through them.
She had dodged it perfectly—without a single wasted movement.
Her golden eyes gleamed, amusement flickering in them as she took another step forward. "Too slow."
The goblin snarled in rage, gripping its war hammer tighter, preparing for another swing—
But Seraphine had already moved.
Her body was a blur, a shadow of death weaving effortlessly through the battlefield. The wind barely had time to catch up to her movements as she closed in on the goblin's exposed legs.
Then—she struck.
With a fluid motion, her sword flashed—the black steel slicing through flesh and bone as if they were nothing.
A sickening splurt of blood erupted from the severed limbs as the goblin let out a howl of agony. Its massive frame, once an unshakable mountain of muscle, suddenly wobbled, staggering under its own weight.
It tried to step forward—but there were no legs left to support it.
Its body crumbled.
The once-unstoppable overlord collapsed, its body slamming into the ground, sending shockwaves rippling outward.
But Seraphine was not done.
With inhuman speed, she surged forward, leaping onto its massive back just as it hit the ground.
Her sword was already poised, her movements like a dance of absolute precision.
The goblin, in its last moments, barely had time to register its fate.
Its beady, bloodshot eyes darted around in panic—before they met hers.
Seraphine's gaze was unforgiving.
With one final, decisive strike, she swung her sword—clean through its neck.
For a moment, silence fell over the battlefield.
The goblin's eyes widened in shock, its monstrous mouth parting as if to let out one last defiant roar—
But it never came.
Its severed head tumbled from its shoulders, rolling lifelessly across the dirt.
Its massive body collapsed, the light vanishing from its eyes.
And just like that, the creature that had controlled the monstrous horde was dead.
The battlefield had changed.
Moments ago, the monsters had been surging forward, a relentless tide of bloodlust and fury. They had thrown themselves at the awakeners with wild abandon, their roars filling the night, their claws and fangs gleaming under the moonlight.
But now—
Now, they hesitated.
A vast pile of corpses lay at Seraphine's feet, a grotesque monument to her efficiency. Blood soaked the ground in thick, steaming puddles, the iron-rich scent polluting the air. Pieces of flesh, shattered bones, and lifeless eyes stared blankly at the sky.
She stood among it all, her black armor gleaming under the silver moon, streaked with fresh crimson. It clung to her like a second skin, her posture unwavering, as if none of this had been a challenge at all.
Her sword—once a pristine black—was now dripping with thick, dark blood, the crimson streaks running down its blade like liquid fire.
And she had barely broken a sweat.
The Young Awakeners, They had fought. They had struggled.
Even with their training, even with their abilities, the first wave of monsters had tested them. Many were panting, their bodies aching from exertion, their hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through their veins.
But Seraphine…
She stood untouched. Unfazed.
Some of them had turned to glance at her in the heat of battle, only to freeze. What they saw defied logic.
She hadn't just fought. She had danced.
Her movements were fluid, effortless, like a master swordsman carving through mere weeds in a garden. Where they struggled to slay one or two monsters, she cut down tenfold.
No hesitation. No wasted movement. She was an artist, and the battlefield was her canvas.
Even captains who had been leading their own units couldn't hide their awe.
One young awakener—barely sixteen—had seen her slice through a massive beast's torso with a single strike, the body falling apart before it even realized it was dead.
Another had seen her evade an attack so smoothly it looked like the monster had missed on purpose, only for its head to be severed an instant later.
It was beyond human.
Beyond logic.
This was a true awakener. A commander. A monster in human form.
A Heavy Silence
For a moment, the battlefield fell silent.
The remaining monsters—beasts that had thrown themselves forward without fear, driven by bloodlust—now hesitated.
They stared at her, their feral eyes wide, their animalistic instincts screaming warnings in their minds.
This woman is dangerous.
This woman is death.
Seraphine stood amidst the bodies, completely still, her sword lowered at her side.
Her piercing silver eyes swept across the battlefield, cold and unfeeling. She did not smile. She did not celebrate.
This was merely another fight.
The surviving monsters trembled. Their instincts told them to run.
But there was no escape.
Not yet.
A second wave was coming.
And they had no time to be in awe.
"Get back in position," Seraphine's voice was calm, but there was an undeniable authority in her tone.
It cut through the silence like a blade.
The young awakeners snapped out of their daze, shaking off the awe, the shock, the fear.
They tightened their grips on their weapons.
The fight wasn't over yet.
The gate pulsed with dark energy once more.
The second wave was coming.
Amidst the battlefield drenched in blood and chaos, where warriors clashed with monstrous hordes, one person remained completely unbothered.
Behind a large boulder, comfortably seated, was Zhuo.
With one hand, he lazily tossed a piece of buttered popcorn into his mouth. In the other, a drink rested between his fingers. His eyes, half-lidded with mild interest, followed Seraphine as she cut down monsters like a black-armored specter of death.
Her movements were effortless, her swordwork so fluid and precise that it almost seemed like she was dancing through the battlefield.
When the massive goblin overlord finally fell—its grotesque head tumbling to the ground after a single clean strike—Zhuo gave a slow, approving nod.
"Hmm… not bad."
A soft chime rang beside him. A translucent blue screen flickered into existence.
> [Veil Interface]: "Master's assessment is, as always, accurate. The Commander's efficiency is noteworthy."
Zhuo quirked an eyebrow.
Then, at the end of the message, a small emoji popped up.
> (＾▽＾)
His chewing paused.
Slowly, he looked at his popcorn.
Then at the screen.
Then back at the popcorn.
"…Did you just use an emoji?"
> [Veil Interface]: "This one simply wished to enhance the response with appropriate visual expression. Would Master prefer a different format?"
Another notification popped up, now with a slight flicker.
>(＾◡＾)
Zhuo blinked once. Then twice.
Exhaling, he shook his head. "...You're getting bold."
[Veil Interface]: "I serve only to assist Master in the most efficient and visually appealing way."
[Veil Interface]: "Would Master like a statistical breakdown of Commander Seraphine's combat efficiency? Her current kill count is impressive. (⌒‿⌒)"
Zhuo leaned back against the rock, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth.
His gaze flickered back to the battlefield, where Seraphine stood amidst a sea of corpses, her armor slick with blood, her sword still humming with lethality.
The remaining monsters, who had once charged without fear, now hesitated, their feral instincts screaming at them to flee.
Zhuo smirked. "No need. I can already tell—she's ridiculous."
[Veil Interface]: "Master's insight is unparalleled. I shall refrain from stating the obvious. (≧◡≦)"
Zhuo stared at the glowing text.
Then at the emoji.
Then back at the text.
With a long sigh, he grabbed another handful of popcorn, silently resigning himself to his system's new quirks.