The battlefield was chaos, pure and unrelenting. Injured fighters were pulled to the backlines as the support players scrambled to heal and shield them. Despite their efforts, the lower demonoids' advance kept pressing, relentless and vicious. Their clumsy strikes, combined with sheer numbers, overwhelmed even the most skilled among them.
Avi's gaze swept over the mayhem, his eyes darting from one friend to another. Ken stood tall, his shield battered but firm. His jaw was tight, his usual warm demeanor replaced by a grim determination. Avi could see the shift in him: no smiles, no easy confidence. Every swing of Ken's shield was calculated, each step deliberate. He wasn't just fighting to survive; he was fighting to protect everyone.
Avi's attention shifted to Ryan, who was engaged in brutal combat, delivering a powerful punch to a lower demonoid's chest and watching it fly backward, its limbs flailing. Ryan was fast, precise, but the exhaustion was starting to show in his labored breathing, sweat trickling down his brow as he took a step back to assess the field.
"This is getting out of hand," Ryan said
"No kidding," Avi replied, sidestepping a flailing claw and slashing at a demonoid that got too close. His daggers bit into the creature's side, the blade meeting resistance but slicing deep enough to make it howl.
Tyler was in his element, a whirlwind of unrestrained power. He laughed as he swung his axe-hammer, the heavy weapon crushing anything in its path. "Come on, you bastards!" His voice rang out, wild and carefree, a stark contrast to the tension of the moment. "Is this all you got?"
He didn't pause, didn't flinch. What does he see in this chaos? Avi wondered, his own pulse pounding as he ducked beneath a wild swing and struck at the exposed flank of a charging demonoid.
"Focus, Tyler!" Ken's voice cut through the din, sharp and commanding.
"I am focused," Tyler shot back, his tone defiant, almost teasing. "Unlike some of you, I can handle a little pressure."
Avi's eyes narrowed as he watched Ryan smirk. "No one's impressed," Ryan muttered, launching a kick that sent a lower demonoid sprawling before finishing it with a punch to the face.
Tyler's laughter rang out again as he brought his axe-hammer down on a [lvl 2 Berserker lower demonoid] that had just joined the fray. The creature roared in pain, but it didn't fall. Instead, it swung its massive axe at Tyler, who barely dodged, the edge of the weapon grazing his side.
"New problem!" Avi shouted, his eyes widening as more Berserker lower demonoids appeared. The massive, hulking figures emerged from the press of bodies, their wild eyes locked on their targets. "Everyone, let's curse Tyler for jinxing the battlefield!"
Ken's voice cut through the chaos like a beacon. "Fall back! Everyone, fall back! To the traps!"
The retreat was chaotic. Fighters scrambled to pull the injured toward the rear, where the support players waited. Avi caught a fleeting glimpse of Emily, her face tight with strain as she healed a downed fighter. She glanced up at him for a moment, her eyes filled with exhaustion and worry, before another healer stumbled past her, collapsing with depleted mana. Another stepped in, the magic in their hands flickering as they cast a protective barrier around an injured player.
Ken covered the retreat, his shield absorbing blow after blow. Avi stuck close, slashing at any demonoid that ventured too near. Tyler, despite his reckless bravado, was shockingly efficient, his axe-hammer slamming into anything that dared approach. The big man's movements were as wild as his grin, but there was an unmistakable focus behind it all.
"Don't slow down!" Ken shouted, his voice harsh, urging everyone forward. "We've got this!"
Avi and Ryan reached the struggling fighter, their eyes wide with urgency as they took in the sight of a leg pinned by the monstrous weight of a berserker's axe. The warrior's face was twisted in pain, breath coming in ragged gasps as blood seeped from the deep gash along their leg. Ryan grunted, his muscles straining as he gripped the shaft of the axe, pulling with all his strength. The berserker, noticing the disruption, let out a guttural roar and turned its blood-red gaze on them.
"Come on, we're almost there!" Ryan's voice broke through the chaos, fierce and focused as sweat streamed down his dirt-smeared face. He hoisted the injured fighter over his shoulder, half-carrying, half-dragging them toward the relative safety of the rear lines.
Avi glanced over his shoulder as the sounds of battle thundered behind him. The clash of steel, the guttural cries of demonoids, and the frantic shouts of fellow fighters blended into a deafening roar. He could see Ken up ahead, shield raised, deflecting blows and shouting commands, his face pale but resolute. The support players moved in synchronized bursts, healing and shielding those still able to fight. A healer nearby shouted an incantation, the runes on their staff glowing a vivid green as a barrier shimmered into existence, protecting a group of battered fighters.
The first wave of demonoids hit the traps, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Spiked pits opened up, their jagged teeth glinting in the pale light, and berserkers shrieked in horror as they fell in. Some roared in pain as they sank into the depths, the sounds turning wet and gurgling. Explosive charges rigged along the perimeter erupted in a cacophony of noise, their flames scorching the air and sending dark smoke curling into the sky. The shrapnel from the blasts tore into the ranks of demonoids, sending their bodies flying in grotesque arcs.
Avi ducked as Ken's shield blocked a vicious, horizontal strike, the blow reverberating through the metal with a sickening thud. Sparks flared where the axe's edge scraped against the shield's enchanted surface. "Keep going!" Ken shouted, his voice low and urgent, eyes scanning the battlefield with the sharpness of a predator.
Avi's heart pounded as he spun on his heels, sidestepping a berserker's savage strike. His daggers flashed as they cut through the air, leaving thin, gleaming lines across the demonoid's skin. The beast stumbled, eyes narrowing as it lunged forward, slashing with a wild swing that missed Avi by a hair's breadth. The adrenaline coursing through him heightened every sense; the heat of the battle, the acrid smell of smoke and blood, the scrape of metal on metal—it all blurred into a single moment of life-and-death instinct.
Turning, Avi caught sight of Ryan, who was dragging the last injured fighter toward the traps. The glow in Ryan's fists grew brighter, tinged with a light that looked almost liquid as he launched into a series of rapid, bone-crushing strikes. His punches connected with the berserker's torso, each blow striking with the force of a battering ram, pushing the beast back. The creature staggered, its knees giving way, a bellow of agony echoing in its throat.
Tyler saw the opening and charged, muscles coiled like a spring. He swung his axe-hammer in a sweeping arc, the heavy weapon finding its mark in the berserker's chest. The creature's roar of defiance was cut short as the weapon cleaved through armor and bone. A spray of dark blood splattered across Tyler's chest, but he grinned, wide and wild. "You're welcome!" he called, tossing his head back and letting out a laugh that rang with exhilaration.
"I hate you," Avi muttered, as the berserker lunged at him, its claws reaching out like talons. Without hesitation, he drove one of his daggers into the gap at the base of its neck. The creature's roar turned into a gurgle, eyes dimming as its last breath fled. Avi twisted the blade, feeling the resistance as it pierced deeper, before wrenching it free and stepping back, chest heaving.
The battlefield, once a swirling tempest of violence, began to slow. One by one, the remaining demonoids fell under the combined efforts of the fighters. The traps had taken a heavy toll, and those that had survived the explosions and pitfalls were no match for the relentless assault of the group. The last berserker fell with a crash that shook the ground, limbs sprawled in a gruesome heap as its lifeless eyes stared into the sky.
A fragile, eerie silence settled over the field, broken only by the labored breaths of the survivors. Some leaned heavily on their weapons, their faces pale and battered, while others collapsed, muscles refusing to hold them upright. The support players surged forward, working tirelessly to mend wounds and stabilize the dying. One healer stumbled as she finished a last spell, her face pale and slick with sweat. Another healer caught her, guiding her to a safer spot behind the lines, where the remaining healers worked in tandem to save lives.
Avi, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, scanned the field. His hands were slick with the blood of the battle, the adrenaline still thrumming in his veins. His vision darted from fighter to fighter, searching for those who had given their all, for signs of survival, for signs of hope. He knew that despite the victory, the war was far from over.
Ken stood in the center, his shield hanging by his side, battered and scorched, but still gleaming in the pale light. His breath was ragged, face drawn and pale, but his eyes were sharp, surveying the field with the practiced gaze of a commander. A soft, weary smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he met Avi's gaze, his voice cracking the silence like a whip.
"No deaths," Ken said, his voice firm but edged with exhaustion. "Good work, everyone."
Tyler snorted, leaning on his weapon. "Barely broke a sweat," he shot, smirking even as the blood on his armor and the limp in his step spoke of the fierce fight they'd endured.
"Shut up, Tyler," Ryan muttered, wincing as he flexed his sore knuckles. His eyes, though weary, still held a spark of defiance.
Avi dropped to one knee, feeling the fatigue seeping into his bones. His hands trembled, the aftershocks of the battle settling into a dull ache. He forced a weak smile, humor flickering in his eyes as he rasped, "Well, that was fun."
Ken shot him a tired look, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. Before he could respond, Avi continued, the edge of seriousness creeping into his tone. "Don't get too comfortable. The strongest one hasn't shown up yet."
The words hit the group like a wave, tension tightening their muscles as the weight of the warning sank in. The noise of the battlefield seemed to melt away as all eyes turned to Avi, searching for understanding, for confirmation. And then, they turned as one to the far end of the field, where the shadows seemed to shift, coalescing into something monstrous.
A figure stepped into the light, its towering form a dark contrast against the muted colors of the battlefield. It was armored in black, the metal glinting with an unnatural, malevolent energy. Its skin was a dark, cracked red, reminiscent of dried blood, and its eyes were empty voids, a predatory hunger within them that chilled Avi's blood.
"That," Avi said, his voice little more than a whisper, but every eye caught the fear and resolve in his expression, "is another level 3 Demonoid, my friends. Bigger, badder, and has more chance of turning us into kebabs."
A heavy silence fell before the tension in the group coalesced into a grim determination. Ken's eyes flared with the fierce light of a protector, his jaw set, the exhaustion in his frame overshadowed by the resolve in his heart.
"Everyone, prepare yourselves," he commanded, voice steady, cutting through the hush like a blade. "This isn't over."