The tension in the air was suffocating. The beasts advanced slowly, their glowing eyes locked onto Achem as if they could see straight through him—straight through Rogar. Their fangs dripped with thick saliva, and their claws carved deep furrows into the rocky ground. Achem's grip on his sword tightened as the reality of the situation set in.
"We don't have time for this!" Lysara hissed, her hands already glowing with arcane energy. "We need to move!"
Achem scanned the area, mind racing. Rogar's instincts clashed against his own, telling him to stand and fight, while his modern logic screamed for a more tactical retreat. But the beasts weren't giving them a choice.
Garron and his men hesitated. Some of them, already pale with fear, took a step back. Others, more foolish or perhaps braver, brandished their weapons.
"Hold the line!" Garron barked, raising his axe. "If we run, we die!"
Achem took a deep breath. He had been thrown into this world, burdened with another man's memories, but he wasn't going to let them dictate his fate. His heartbeat steadied as he shifted his stance. If they were going to fight, they would fight smart.
"We form a defensive perimeter," Achem ordered, surprising even himself with the authority in his voice. "Back-to-back formation. Lysara, any way to slow them down?"
Lysara smirked. "You're giving me orders now?"
"Shut up and do it."
She grinned but didn't argue. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a wave of crackling energy into the ground. The earth beneath the beasts trembled, shifting into jagged spikes. The creatures recoiled, some impaling themselves in their blind charge.
Garron let out a battle cry and swung his axe, cleaving into the first beast that lunged at him. Achem followed suit, parrying a swipe from a massive wolf-like creature. The force sent him staggering back, but he regained his footing in time to drive his blade into the beast's throat.
Blood sprayed across his face. He ignored it. There was no time to recoil, no time to think about how foreign this felt. His body moved on instinct—Rogar's instinct.
The battle raged. The mercenaries fought desperately, cutting down the beasts one by one. Lysara's spells continued to carve through their ranks, but she was slowing, her energy draining with each incantation.
Then, a deep, guttural roar split the air.
The creatures suddenly stopped. Their glowing eyes shifted, as if awaiting a command. Then, from the shadows, a massive figure stepped forward.
It was unlike the others. Nearly twice the size, its dark fur bristled with unnatural energy, and its piercing gaze locked onto Achem with an unsettling intelligence. This was no ordinary beast. It was their leader.
Achem's breath hitched. He could feel something within him stir—something deep, primal. Rogar's memories surfaced, flashing in his mind like lightning.
This creature… I know it.
The beast growled, the sound reverberating through the valley. Achem's fingers tightened around his sword. He could feel the weight of destiny pressing down on him.
Then, something shifted in the air—an unseen presence, cold and calculating. Achem felt the hairs on his arms rise. He wasn't just fighting mindless creatures; someone was controlling them. A summoner was nearby.
A low whisper slithered through the battlefield, almost imperceptible. The creatures moved in sync, as if receiving commands from an unseen force. The leader beast took a step forward, eyes glowing brighter, its movements unnaturally precise. Achem realized then—they were being toyed with.
Lysara's eyes darted around. "Something's wrong. This isn't just an attack—this is coordinated. Someone is directing them."
Garron gritted his teeth. "A summoner. Hidden. Watching."
Achem exhaled sharply. "Then we need to flush them out."
Before anyone could respond, the leader beast lunged at Achem, its claws swiping inches from his chest. Achem barely managed to dodge, rolling to the side and countering with a vicious slash. The beast howled but didn't falter.
More beasts encroached. The mercenaries were faltering, unable to keep up with the relentless attacks. Lysara's magic crackled, but her movements were sluggish, her stamina waning. The ground beneath them trembled again, this time not from her spell.
Achem's instincts screamed—move!
He twisted just in time to avoid a massive black tendril erupting from the ground. The darkness coiled and pulsed unnaturally, like a living shadow. The summoner wasn't just controlling beasts. They were manipulating the battlefield itself.
Lysara cursed. "They're trying to trap us!"
Achem scanned the area, his eyes narrowing. Where are you?
Then he saw it—movement in the trees beyond the clearing. A robed figure, barely visible, watching intently.
"There!" Achem shouted, pointing. "The summoner's in the tree line!"
Garron didn't hesitate. He barked an order, and a group of mercenaries charged toward the figure. The summoner moved fast, their cloak billowing as they vanished deeper into the forest. The beasts hesitated for the first time, as if momentarily disconnected from their master.
Achem saw his chance.
"We push forward! Now!"
The hesitation among the creatures gave them an opening. Achem led the charge, his blade cutting through the chaos. Lysara unleashed a final burst of energy, sending a shockwave through the remaining creatures. Garron and his men hacked through the faltering beasts, pushing toward the forest edge.
The summoner was running, but Achem was faster.
He would not let them escape.
With a surge of energy, he pushed forward, heart pounding as he closed the gap between them. The robed figure glanced back, realizing too late that Achem was gaining on them. The summoner raised a hand, whispering an incantation, and a wall of darkness erupted between them. Achem skidded to a halt just in time to see the summoner disappear into the thick of the woods.
Panting, Achem turned back to the battlefield. The beasts, leaderless, were retreating. But something told him this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.