Overwhelming Firepower

A condensed shadow lunged forward, its blade-like arm already descending toward a fallen soldier who could no longer rise.

The soldier raised his shield out of instinct rather than hope. The metal would not hold. Nothing had held so far.

Before the shadow’s edge could fall, something struck it from the side with such force that the air itself cracked.

The shadow monster was physically thrown. The force behind the strike did not merely redirect it; it disrupted its cohesion.

For a fraction of a second, the darkness lost shape entirely, stretching like ink flung across glass before snapping back together mid-flight. It crashed into the frozen earth and skidded across the blood-soaked ground.

A figure stood where it had been moments before. Varek exhaled slowly, and the dark-blue tattoos across his body glowed. The glow pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Steam rose from his skin despite the cold.

It was not just him. Across the battlefield, spirit tattoos ignited one after another. Deep blues, whites, greys, crimson, ancient patterns awakened beneath scarred skin.

The barbarians roared not in fear, but in joy. This was the time to show their worth as warriors, to prove themselves to their ancestors and descendants. Their fighting spirit was at its peak.

The other chiefs were also showing their might as they attacked the shadow monsters with wild glee.

A spear cut through the air with precise violence, piercing a shadow mid-leap and pinning it to a fallen tree. Before it could free itself, a second weapon flashed. Gulfgr closed the distance in three long strides, drawing a curved blade as he ran.

His spirit tattoos glowed deep white-grey along his arms and neck, the patterns flowing like a snowstorm.

Before the shadow could tear itself free from the spear, Gulfgr’s curved blade swept across its densest mass. The condensed darkness hardened to block, but a throwing knife followed a heartbeat later, passing through its side, creating another hole.

The creature twisted violently. Its surface rippled as it attempted to repair itself, but the regeneration was sluggish now. Where steel had carved, the darkness struggled to fold back into place.

Gulfgr did not pause to observe. He ripped the spear free and drove it forward again, forcing the shadow to defend instead of advance.

His icy-white tattoos flared brighter, light streaking across his skin like frost racing over stone.

Each movement flowed into the next. Spear to blade, blade to knife. There was no wasted motion, there was no hesitation.

The shadow lashed out wildly, but Gulfgr stepped inside its reach and cut across it again and again until the condensed mass began to destabilize.

The creature’s shape wavered, its limbs lost definition. Then it simply crumpled inward, the darkness thinning until it stopped moving.

Nearby, Karsh advanced through the battlefield, a vicious-looking grin laid upon his face. A shadow darted toward him, its body compressing into a blade. It struck his side and tore flesh.

Karsh staggered half a step from the impact. Blood ran freely down his side, steaming in the cold air. He glanced down at the wound as if mildly inconvenienced. Then he smiled wider and wilder than before.

He then looked at the shadow monster and swung his warhammer. The warhammer crashed into the creature’s torso with a deep, concussive boom. The impact flattened part of its condensed body, forcing it to expand and contract violently.

The shadow’s form rippled from the impact, its compressed mass spreading outward like thick smoke forced through a narrow crack. For a moment, its body lost shape entirely. Then it tried to gather itself again.

The grey tattoos across his chest and arms glowed brighter, the lines sharp and steady, like veins of iron beneath stone.

He shifted his footing and brought the warhammer down again before the creature could stabilize. The second strike landed heavier than the first.

The ground fractured beneath them. The frozen soil was split in half, and shards of ice burst outward. The shadow then stopped moving.

In the distance, Sylla had her bow already drawn. She stood on the branches of a tall tree.

The red tattoos that wound along her arms and across her collarbone burned like living embers beneath her skin.

Unlike the others, her glow did not flare wildly. It pulsed in steady intervals, controlled and focused. Her eyes moved across the battlefield with calm precision.

A shadow monster slipped between two barbarians, its form low and streamlined, moving with lethal intent toward an exposed flank. It was fast, too fast for the warriors locked in close combat to react in time.

Sylla exhaled as she released her arrow; the bowstring snapped forward. The arrow pierced through the creature’s upper mass and drove it sideways.

The darkness around the wound thinned immediately, struggling to regain cohesion. Before it could stabilize, a second arrow struck lower, punching another hole through its form.

The shadow monster staggered mid-motion, its body flickering unevenly as it tried to repair itself. Several more arrows pierced the shadow monster, stopping its movements.

***

Even though the chiefs were able to crush several shadow monsters, it did not mean the monsters were weak.

A few soldiers and barbarians have already died in the hands of the shadow monsters. The dwarves on the battlements were now providing support fire, as those outside Ironhold’s walls continued to retreat back to Ironhold.

Lucen was also helping to save those who were struggling to defend themselves from the shadow monsters. Unfortunately, despite all his skills, he was just one person; he could not save all those who were in trouble.

As he saved one, he heard another screaming upon their death. Lucen gnashed his teeth in frustration, but there was nothing else he could do.

The ones able to defeat the shadow monsters tried their best to protect those who could not as they retreated, but it was difficult to do so.

Even with Duke Vardon and Sir Thalos, the number of those shadow demons was greater than theirs, making it a truly difficult battle simply to retreat back into Ironhold.

One of the main problems, despite being damaged now by anything, their speed had increased so much, and even if you did hit them, it took tremendous damage before they finally stopped moving.

A shadow monster darted between two retreating soldiers and slashed across one man’s side. The steel of his armor split, and blood darkened the snow.

The soldier grunted sharply, but he did not fall. He slammed his shield forward, driving the creature back a half-step, even as pain burned through his ribs.

He looked around and saw the others being picked off one by one. He then shouted. ”Form a shield wall!”

Hearing the command, the soldiers who heard it got together, made a circle, their shields raised as they slowly moved towards the gates of Ironhold.

The sound of the Gatling guns supporting their retreat could be heard, while the shadow monsters slammed into their shields, trying to break them.

The soldiers moved as one, shields locked, boots grinding against blood-slick snow. The circle tightened whenever a man faltered, and widened just enough to allow the wounded to be pulled toward the center.

The shadow monsters continued to slam into the shield wall. Blade-like limbs screeched across iron. Impacts rang like hammers against anvils. The force of the blows pushed the formation backward, but it did not break.

”Hold!” the wounded soldier shouted again, voice hoarse.

Another shadow lunged, compressing its body into a spear-point and driving straight for the seam between two shields.

It was at this moment that a shot cracked through the air. The creature jerked mid-thrust as a high-caliber round tore through its shadowy mass. The impact punched a hole in the monster’s body.

Still, that was not enough to stop it, but then another shot came, then another. Several shots were made, making the shadow monster sustain enough damage for it to stop.

Harlik stepped forward through the drifting smoke, rifle braced against his shoulder. His jaw was set, eyes sharp beneath his brow.

”Thornefang! Continuous fire!”

Hearing Harlik’s command, the members of Thornefang got into a square formation and started firing as they were trained to do.

They had trained their marksmanship daily and were accurate enough to be able to shoot their enemies without hitting any allies, even in this chaotic situation.

Smoke rolled forward in thick waves as lead tore through the darkness. Each impact punched through shadow flesh, slowing the creatures, destabilizing their forms, forcing them to absorb more damage than their weakened regeneration could manage.

A few shadow monsters came sprinting towards the Thornefang riflemen, but before they could reach, Veronica and several others with towering shields blocked their attack.

***

On another part of the battlefield, Robert was having quite a fun time compared to others. He was now trying different ways to damage the shadow monsters.

Through spells, physical attacks, and a few experimental vials that he had in hand. Once they stopped moving, he began touching the dark, shadowy bodies.

”Hoh, that’s interesting, it seems that these things are like spirits or fairies, their bodies are mostly made of energy. Also, unlike when they were in their giant forms, the voices had become much softer than before. Still, there is that impulse of wanting to harm those nearby, but it’s so subtle that it is easy to ignore.”

While Robert was analyzing the few shadow monsters he had immobilized, a few more of them came to attack him.

”Hehhe, a never-ending supply of experimental subjects,” Robert gleefully started attacking the monsters. In fact, he even allowed the monster to harm him just to see what the monster’s attack could do.

***

The battlefield had become very chaotic. These shadow monsters had proved to be much more of a problem than Marquis Valeire and his army.

Lucen had immobilized another one of the shadow monsters. Their numbers were more than he anticipated, and due to the battlefield being so chaotic right now, artillery fire could not be done.

So he and the others continued fighting while retreating to Ironhold. There were still quite a few people outside, so he continued to save those that he could.

As he fought the shadow monsters, he noticed a few things. One of which was that they stopped moving after getting damage to a certain extent. The second was that no matter how much you attack them, even when immobilized, they don’t fully disappear.

So the best they could do right now was to attack them until they stop moving. Still, he knew that this did not solve anything, only delayed the monster wave. Lucen was panting a little as he stopped another shadow monster.

His body was aching all over; they had been in battle since early morning, and it was already afternoon, nearing evening.

As he was about to head to another area, his skill battle instinct was warning of an incoming attack. Yet he was a step too late to evade. He planned to try to block the attack.

”Focus, this is no time to be distracted.”

That was when he suddenly heard a voice, the shadow monster that was about to attack from behind was cut in half, and stopped moving. Now standing in front of him was Father, Duke Vardon.

”I apologize, Father. I guess my training wasn’t enough.”

Vardon did not reply immediately as he swung his sword at another incoming shadow monster. Once that was dealt with, his back facing Lucen, he spoke.

”You’re alive...” Vardon’s voice became softer, but Lucen could still hear it. ”That’s enough.”

While the Father and son were talking, the Shadow monsters all of them stopped moving. They then melted into puddles. The entire bloody snow battlefield had turned into a sea of darkness.

”Something’s coming!” Vardon spoke loudly for everyone to hear as he held his sword tightly.

Lucen, who was standing behind Vardon, looked at the dark sea surrounding them and felt his heart beating ever faster. ’Is there going to be a third phase?’