The Boss Descended

After a day of rest, the second night arrived on schedule.

Dark red moonlight settled like a heavy fog over Blackpine Fief's wavering ring of light.

The Battlefield Meat Grinder was ready once more, and Kyle and his comrades returned to the gap.

The two-meter-wide Tactical Gap had been reinforced with wooden slats, Stone Blocks, and iron fittings.

But none of that could stop a true monster. It could only slow the Rat Tide. Holding the gap would still fall to the people defending it.

The Rat Tide arrived on time, a black wave crashing against the wagon barricade.

As on the previous night, the defenders' movements were as mechanical as ever: level their spears, thrust, pull back, thrust again.

But every thrust tore out flesh and shattered bone. Corpses piled higher beyond the gap, and the air inside the defenses grew heavier. The stench of blood mingled with rot, making every breath catch in their throats.

The defenders rotated slowly. After a spell on the front line, soldiers were pulled back and replaced by the second line.

Those who had just withdrawn sat against wagon wheels or heaps of stone, gulping air, their hands still trembling uncontrollably.

But rotation could only delay the inevitable. It could not erase their exhaustion.

The Rat Tide had no end. Every so often, another black wave surged from the depths of the Blood Mist and filled the gap again.

Soldiers who had barely caught their breath had to stand and return to the line.

Their strength drained away bit by bit, while time crawled.

Shien stood on high ground, looking down over the entire camp.

According to the feedback from Basic Battlefield Awareness, the whole line was now like a bowstring drawn to its limit. Every point along it signaled danger.

The line's rhythm was slowing. The Spearmen were thrusting nearly thirty percent less often than they had at nightfall.

The heavy infantry in front had once braced their Ironbound Oak Shields firmly in the gap. Now the shields were beginning to slip, little by little.

It was a sign that the soldiers' strength was failing, but there was nothing better to do than hold on.

At the front, Kyle glanced down at the sword in his hand. The fine steel longsword now felt as heavy as a block of iron.

The webbing between his thumb and forefinger had split long ago. Blood ran down the hilt, mixing with the entrails splashed from rat corpses until his grip was slick.

One more swing, one more swing... Kyle told himself over and over. Hold on a little longer. Just a little longer...

A muscle in his leg suddenly cramped. Kyle gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay upright. He knew his strength was nearly spent.

A young soldier beside him asked hoarsely, "Kyle... what time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Kyle said between breaths. "Get through half a night more. If we can just survive tonight... we can light the Sacred Flame."

The young man froze for a moment, then grinned. It was a strained grin.

"Then let's hold on a little longer."

"Just one night."

"Just until dawn."

No one argued. Several soldiers nearby murmured their agreement, as if trying to hearten one another.

Kyle tightened his grip on the hilt again, fixed his eyes on the black shapes surging beyond the gap, and swung once more...

Just then, the shrill squeaking and scratching that had set everyone's scalp prickling vanished without warning, as though an invisible hand had seized it by the throat.

A deathly silence fell.

Everyone in the defensive position froze for an instant.

Kyle stopped mid-swing without thinking, his sword still hanging in the air. He stared blankly into the darkness beyond the gap, unable at first to grasp what had happened.

The Corrupt Rats that had been packed together moments before, pressing forward with red eyes, all went rigid.

The next instant, the swarm erupted into motion again. Sheets of Corrupt Rats seemed to recoil from some unspeakable terror. Instead of charging forward, they fought to squeeze sideways, even trampling one another.

They retreated in layers like a tide parting to either side, opening an ever-widening path between the mountains of corpses.

At the edge of the platform, Shien stared at the front of the defensive line.

The malice that had weighed on everyone's hearts since the previous night had finally appeared.

Thud... thud!

Heavy footsteps came from deep within the Blood Mist.

Each step struck the earth like a sledgehammer, sending faint tremors through the ruins of Blackpine Fief.

Even the Portable Sacred Flame in the center of the square, barely maintaining its two-hundred-meter halo, let out a thin hiss.

Under that higher-order pressure, the platinum flames wavered, and their light visibly dimmed.

A foul wind suddenly swept through. The Blood Mist ahead was ripped apart, and a vast figure emerged.

It was a Third Tier Bloodthirsty Mutant Giant Rat, nearly as large as a fully grown armored rhinoceros. Barbed bone spurs jutted through its rotting flesh.

Its two enormous eyeballs swayed like blood-red lanterns beneath the Blood Moon, staring coldly at the hundreds of humans.

More suffocating still was what rode on its back.

A thick, rusted iron chain was driven deep into the giant rat's flesh. Fastened to the end of the chain was a crude Bone Throne.

The throne was piled from human skulls, and seated upon it was a Third Tier Ghoul.

Blackened burial cloth wrapped nearly all of his body. His flesh was shriveled, like a corpse dried in the sun.

His gaunt claws dragged a War Scythe twice a man's height. Rust mottled its blade, and black blood dripped from its edge, drop by drop.

The battlefield fell silent.

The Composite Demonic Beast swept its gaze over the defenses. It did not even look at the four Tactical Gaps Shien had arranged. Instead, it fixed on the most crowded stretch of wagon wall, also the section piled highest with scrap-iron wagon frames and logs.

The Ghoul on the Bone Throne yanked the chain taut, and an ear-piercing shriek burst from his throat.

The Bloodthirsty Mutant Giant Rat lunged at the same moment. Its thick limbs stamped hard into the frozen ground, and its massive body hurtled like a cannonball straight into that stretch of wagon wall.

BOOM—!!

The blast drowned out every other sound on the battlefield.

The wagon barricade that had once given the recruits a little peace of mind was all but meaningless against that impact.

Steel wagon bodies and thick timber beams, along with the stones packed inside the wagons, shattered on impact. The entire defensive line tore open as easily as paper.

Dozens of soldiers and Convicts nearby had no time to react before the force hurled them into the air.

Some were pierced through by splintered wood. Others were crushed beneath whole wagon frames. Some bodies even burst apart in midair. Most never had time to scream.

Splintered wood, Blood Mist, and mud churned through the air as the Third Tier giant rat strode over scattered limbs into the defended area.

The thickest section of wagon wall was gone. A huge breach more than ten meters wide lay open to the night wind.

The Blood Mist behind the giant rat churned again.

The rat swarm that had been forced aside gathered once more like a tide. A black wave surged toward the breach.

Squeeeak—!

Shrill cries erupted again.

Tens of thousands of Corrupt Rats poured over the wreckage and flooded through the torn breach into the defensive position.