Chapter 54
Varrek Thane did not look away as Magnus drove his fist through the Noid leader's plated jaw.
Bone and chitin exploded outward in a wet arc. The creature reeled, its towering form staggering back through the mud, screaming in a frequency that made the smaller Noids convulse.
Magnus moved like a storm given shape.
He did not use weapons.
He did not shout.
He stepped in, hips turning, shoulders snapping forward, martial forms refined through centuries of war compressed into human motion. His knuckles hammered into the Noid's abdomen, once, twice, again, each strike detonating through layered muscle like controlled demolition.
The Rank 20 Noid shrieked.
Not in pain alone.
In recognition.
It felt the difference between prey and executioner.
The creature lashed out with its scythe-limbs. Magnus slipped under the swing, drove his elbow up into the joint, then wrenched the limb free with a twist of torque that tore ligaments like rope. He slammed the severed appendage into the monster's skull, stunning it long enough to plant his boot against its chest and hurl it backward into its own swarm.
The lesser Noids surged instinctively, forming a living shield.
The leader screamed again, this time not as a weapon, but as a command.
A tight, piercing vibration cut through the battlefield air.
A distress frequency.
Varrek Thane's visor flared as the signal spiked.
"…It is calling the Tower," one of his soldiers reported.
Below, Magnus was suddenly buried under bodies, dozens of Level 5 Noids throwing themselves onto him, clawing, biting, dying just to slow him down.
The Rank 20 Noid used the moment.
The frequency pulsed again.
High above, unseen, the Tower's artificial intelligence recalculated.
Threat profile updated.
Anomaly detected.
Wave schedule… modified.
Instead of staggered deployment,
Fifth wave and final wave synchronized.
All remaining rifts opening simultaneously.
Five minutes.
Varrek Thane received the update a heartbeat later.
His visor dimmed, then brightened.
A slow, metallic laugh escaped him.
"So," he said calmly, "the Sentinel has altered its directive."
One of his Proving Spear soldiers turned his head slightly. "Shall we intervene?"
Varrek did not answer at first.
He watched the battlefield.
The human camp's walls were cracked. Smoke hung low. Bodies, Noid and human alike, littered the churned earth. The awakened fighters were still standing… but barely. Their movements were slower. Their formation tighter. Their breathing visible even from this distance.
At the same moment "Now! Heal now!" Victor Rudd's voice snapped across the camp comms.
Alexa staggered back behind the broken wall, her left arm hanging uselessly at her side, blood soaking through the sleeve. She dropped to one knee and raised her remaining hand.
"Bring them to me… one at a time, don't crowd"
Green and blue light bloomed around her fingers.
Rhea Calder and Lyca Rodollf moved through the chaos like battlefield spirits, dragging the wounded out of the killing lanes. Sylas Bell leaned on his spear like a crutch, blood streaming from his scalp, but still pointing out where the fallen lay.
"Three near the western breach, two still breathing, one gone."
Kaelin Navaro knelt beside a man whose legs had been crushed by a Noid charge. She pressed both palms down, whispering through clenched teeth as her power forced bone to knit.
"Hold still… don't you dare pass out on me…"
Nara Quin bent the wind around them, forcing smoke and dust upward so the healers could see. Owen Park and Tomas Reed formed a living wall with shield and debris while the injured were treated behind them.
But it wasn't enough for everyone.
The civilians had no powers.
No armor.
No training.
They had been merchants in tailored coats, politicians with trembling hands, smugglers who once thought themselves clever. Now they were bodies torn apart by claws and stamped into the earth.
A man with a data slate had been split in half at the waist.
A woman in a silk coat lay with her throat crushed, eyes still open.
Another had tried to run and was caught by a Noid's hook-limb, dragged screaming into the mud until nothing remained but a smear.
Out of twenty-seven civilians…
Only seven still lived.
Elena Ro stood frozen near the supply crates, hands shaking as she counted.
"…Twenty are gone…"
Her voice cracked.
Marcus Vale knelt beside one of the dead, closing their eyes. "We did what we could."
"No," she whispered. "We did what we were allowed to."
Victor Rudd didn't argue.
He was already moving.
"Activate secondary recording net," he ordered.
Metallic clicks echoed as hidden pylons unfolded from the earth walls. Small black lenses slid out from tree trunks, crates, broken turrets.
Dozens of surveillance cameras came online.
"Thermal, optical, mana-spectrum, and audio," Victor said. "Redundant loops. Hardwired local storage."
Priya Malhotra's fingers flew over her tablet. "If the signal cuts again, everything still records."
Victor nodded grimly. "Good. Then history can't pretend this didn't happen."
The healers worked until their hands shook.
Alexa collapsed to one knee after sealing a punctured lung. Dr. Lian Shang injected herself with stabilizers just to keep moving.
Bodies were lined up.
Wounded were propped against barriers.
Weapons were reloaded with trembling hands.
Above them, the forest had gone unnaturally quiet.
Too quiet.
Victor looked at the sky, then at the rift.
"…They're changing the pattern," he muttered.
Tess Wren's visor flickered. "Energy spikes… multiple sources… not like before."
Jonas Pike swallowed. "How long?"
"Minutes," Priya said.
Silence fell over the camp.
No cheering.
No victory.
Only breathing.
And the knowledge that twenty people were dead, and that whatever came next would not care.
Magnus still fought in the distance.
The humans, bloodied and half-broken, formed up again.
Because if the cameras went dark,
At least the truth would remain.
"They will not survive what comes next," Varrek Thane said.
His voice held no malice.
Only judgment.
One of the Proving Spear soldiers shifted. "Then… we wait?"
Varrek turned slightly, the crimson slit of his visor brightening as internal sigils re-aligned.
"No," he answered. "We observe."
The soldier hesitated. "But they are being overrun. They will die."
"Yes."
Varrek folded his massive arms behind his back, posture rigid as a monument.
"And that is acceptable."
A faint hum passed through the unit as targeting logic disengaged. None raised their weapons.
"We are not here to preserve this species," Varrek continued. "They are not allies. They are not subjects. They are candidates."
He looked down toward the shattered clearing, where humans bled and Noids swarmed, where Magnus fought like something misplaced in reality.
"Candidates for conquest. Candidates for breaking. Candidates for service."
His tone sharpened.
"If they die to Level Five stock and a single Level Twenty commander, then they were never worth claiming."
One soldier asked, "And the anomaly?"
Varrek's visor locked onto Magnus.
"That one is… irregular," he admitted. "But he chose to fight among them. He bound himself to their limits."
He paused, then spoke with open disdain.
"Intervening now would imply that these humans deserve protection from weapons we consider inferior."
He gestured toward the Noids pouring from the forest.
"Those are training organisms. Not soldiers. Not warriors. Tools."
A ripple of agreement passed through the unit.
"To descend and destroy them," Varrek went on, "would mean acknowledging that this world's defenders cannot endure even our refuse."
His voice hardened into doctrine.
"We were bred to annihilate civilizations, not to rescue primitive assets from trial stock."
Silence followed.
Then Varrek concluded:
"If the Noids slaughter them, then Earth is unfit for High Imperial use. If they endure…"
A thin, dangerous note entered his voice.
"…then they may become something worth conquering properly."
He looked toward the forming distortions in the treeline, where the next rift-mouths were already tearing open.
"And if the anomaly survives…"
A pause.
"…then it will expose itself."
Below, Magnus smashed the Noid leader into the earth, cracking stone with its spine.
He did not know the Tower had escalated.
He did not know all remaining waves were about to overlap.
And he did not know that eleven High Imperial warforms stood above him, not as observers of valor…
…but as judges deciding whether humanity deserved extinction or exploitation.
Five minutes remained.
The forest shook.
And the next storm was no longer approaching—
It was opening.
The air above the clearing warped.
Not with light—with authority.
A voice descended from nowhere and everywhere at once, echoing through the forest canopy, through stone, through bone:
"ATTENTION. MISSION PARAMETERS UPDATED."
Every surviving human felt it as vibration.Every awakened heard it as command.
"CURRENT SURVIVAL WINDOW: INEFFICIENT."
The Tower's artificial intelligence recalculated in real time, its logic cold and unbothered by blood or fear.
"TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IS NO LONGER A SUITABLE TEST INTERVAL."
Static rippled through the air like a tightening net.
"BASED ON SUBJECT PERFORMANCE, ALL REMAINING WAVES WILL NOW DEPLOY."
A pause—just long enough for dread to take root.
"ADDITIONAL WAVE ADDED TO MAINTAIN BALANCE WITH SUBJECT ADAPTABILITY."
The ground trembled.
Not from impact.
From arrival points forming.
"NEW OBJECTIVE REMAINS UNCHANGED.""SURVIVE."
Some of the civilians collapsed where they stood.
One of the wounded laughed weakly.Someone else whispered, "It's cheating…"
The forest began to glow in scattered arcs—multiple rifts opening at once, not in sequence but in overlap.
What had been a war of endurancebecame a storm of inevitability.
Above them, unseen, Varrek Thane watched without emotion.
The Tower had done what the High Imperials preferred:
It had removed mercy from the equation.
The test was no longer about time.
It was about collapse.
The announcement hit the clearing like a verdict.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then fear broke formation.
One of the civilians screamed. Another dropped to their knees, clutching their head as if the sound itself had struck them. Blood-soaked soldiers stared into the trees, searching for where death would come from next.
Rhea whispered, "They changed the rules…"
Sylas swallowed. "Mid-test."
Lyca's voice trembled. "That's not a trial anymore. That's execution."
Above the chaos, Magnus' helmet chimed,a sharp, controlled tone cutting through panic.
LINK ACTIVE.
His voice came through every Cleaner comm unit at once, low and steady:
"Barrier users. Now. Alexa, cast a full perimeter shield over the campsite. Ground manipulators—raise a dome inside it. No gaps. No delays."
Alexa's reply came instantly, breathless, strained:
"We need time, Magnus! We can't keep going like this!"
"How long?" Magnus asked, already walking forward, stepping over broken bodies and shattered walls.
Victor Rudd's voice cut in, clipped and professional:
"Ten minutes to stabilize wounded and reset positions."
"No!" Alexa shouted over him. "Five minutes. Just five minutes, Magnus!"
Magnus turned as the Rank 20 Noid reared behind him, its many-jawed head screaming in layered frequencies.
"Then you will have five minutes," he said calmly.
The creature lunged.
Magnus caught it by the upper mandible.
The ground cratered under his boots as he pulled.
Muscle tore. Bone cracked.
With a violent twist, he ripped the Noid's head apart, ichor splashing across his armor like black rain.
He drew his force sword in the same motion.
A line of pale energy carved through the remaining Noids in a single horizontal arc—bodies splitting mid-run, collapsing into steaming heaps.
Then, The forest broke open.
Four portals tore into reality at once.
North. South. East. West.
Each one flared fifty meters from the shattered camp, forming a square of death around the clearing. The air inside them shimmered like boiling glass.
Shapes began to pour through.
Level 5 Noids first, dozens, then hundreds, clawing over one another in shrieking tides.
Behind them, larger silhouettes formed.
Heavier.
Smarter.
The ground manipulators slammed their palms into the earth.
Walls surged upward. Stone folded inward. A dome began to rise inside Alexa's forming barrier, layers stacking like desperate ribs around the wounded.
Alexa screamed as light burned through her veins, her barrier snapping into place just as the first wave howled and charged.
Magnus stepped forward alone, standing between the portals and the collapsing camp.
"Five minutes," he said quietly.
And then the horde hit.
The battlefield had become unrecognizable. What had once been a fortified human camp was now a mangled crater of splintered wood, shattered metal, and scorched earth. Trenches dug into the soil were flattened under the weight of fleeing and falling Noids, while makeshift barricades had collapsed into jagged heaps. Fires smoldered across the clearing, casting flickering shadows over the wounded, the dying, and the exhausted survivors.
From the portals, the ground trembled with the approach of a new wave: two thousand four Rank 20 Noid bosses. Each one towered over humans and even the tallest obstacles, standing nearly three meters, their bodies a horrifying mass of armored exoskeleton plates fused with jagged bone spikes. Eyes glowed crimson, multiple mandibles opened and closed in unison, and their claws shimmered with an energy that distorted the air around them. Their sheer presence warped the forest near the clearing, trees bent backward as though recoiling from some invisible shockwave, and the ground quivered under their synchronized march.
The human survivors scrambled under Alexa's barrier, panting and covered in blood and mud. The healers worked frantically, pushing their powers to the limit to stabilize broken limbs, cauterize wounds, and shield the unawakened civilians. The dome inside the barrier, shaped by the ground manipulators, rose like a jagged crystal cathedral, but even its stone walls groaned under the pressure of the incoming horde.
Magnus, standing at the far corner about 70 meters from were the campsite was located of the clearing, felt the tremor of each massive step before it reached him. He could sense the individual power signatures of the Noid bosses, raw, vicious, and unrelenting. His armored Omega outfit glinted with residual force energy as he flexed his hands, muscles coiling. Despite the scale, his eyes narrowed.
The clearing was a chaotic tableau: fire, broken earth, screaming humans, jagged stone barriers, and the towering silhouettes of nearly two and a half thousand Rank 20 Noid bosses advancing like an unyielding tide. Magnus felt a thrill, a dark exhilaration, as the challenge solidified before him.
"This is going to be fun," he muttered under his breath, stepping forward, the ground cracking beneath his boots with every step. The battlefield itself seemed to shrink around his presence, as though gravity and air acknowledged the force now standing against the oncoming apocalypse.
From the ridge above the shattered clearing, Lieutenant Varrek Thane and his eleven Proving Spear warriors froze, their massive frames rigid as the enormity of the scene below registered. The tremor of two thousand four Rank 20 Noid bosses advancing in perfect coordination sent shockwaves through the forest, rattling their armor and rattling their disciplined composure.
Varrek's luminous visor slit narrowed, scanning, recalculating, as cascading streams of data flowed across his internal sigils. Every metric, the mass, the energy output, the aggression patterns, was anomalous.
"That… is not possible," one soldier muttered, his voice low, almost disbelieving. He adjusted his gauntlet, activating tactical overlays across the vista, but the numbers didn't add up. "They're Level 20, thousands of them, and… and that one…" He trailed off, pointing at Magnus in the center, standing bare-handed, the ground already cracked beneath his presence.
Varrek Thane's hand closed around the shaft of his Proving Spear, the mech-engraved metal humming faintly with stored kinetic energy. "Focus," he said calmly, though his tone carried an edge of astonishment. His visor fed him force output data from Magnus alone, the anomaly's energy signatures were far beyond human scale, even when constrained. "That one is not human," he confirmed, almost to himself. "Confirmation of the anomaly is complete."
The other ten soldiers mirrored his stance, massive forms shifting subtly as armor plates clicked into overdrive mode. Their targeting logic activated, calculating trajectory, attack intervals, impact vectors, and potential collateral. Yet none of them moved to intervene.
"He's contained within limits… but his control of battlefield energy alone… it's beyond anything we've seen," another Proving Spear member noted, voice taut with restrained awe. "This is… a being worthy of legend."
Varrek's visor slit pulsed faintly crimson. "A worthy challenge," he said, his tone devoid of fear, but rich with measured respect. "The Sentinel did not merely send a test. It recognized something below us. That… entity…" He gestured once at Magnus. "He is classified as a variable. A true anomaly. One that might survive where thousands of our creations, our Noids, will fall."
The soldiers exchanged brief glances, a silent acknowledgment passing between them: they were watching something extraordinary, something that even the High Imperial forces could not fully comprehend.
Varrek tightened his grip on his Proving Spear. "We observe. We learn. And if necessary… we will catalog. But we do not engage. Not yet."
He looked out over the advancing horde, then back to the anomaly at the center of it all. The corners of his mouth quirked almost imperceptibly. "Let's see if the humans are truly worth the effort… or if the Sentinel's gamble fails entirely."
The forest trembled again as the first wave of the 2,004 Level 20 Noids crossed the last ridge, and below, Magnus' presence radiated lethal focus, the battlefield already bending to the will of a being the High Imperials had never accounted for.
From their ridge perch, the eleven Proving Spear warriors remained statuesque, but internally, each processed the eruption of energy and destruction below differently.
Captain Lieutenant Varrek Thane's visor projected hundreds of data streams at once. He noted the devastating accuracy of every blow Magnus delivered, the precise application of force, and the sheer scale of his battlefield manipulation, even within mortal limits. "Remarkable," he murmured, almost unconsciously. "Every strike is calculated… every movement lethal. This is a specimen worthy of the Sentinel's attention."
Sergeant Kael Dorn, the second-in-command, gritted his teeth. "He moves with intent, but he's testing them… testing the humans. And yet… his awareness extends to us. He's targeting us, deliberately." His gauntlet shimmered with stored kinetic energy as he analyzed potential escape vectors. "We are… beneath his notice, and yet he considers our existence relevant enough to mark."
Lieutenant Sorya Malthane, who specialized in long-range observation, whispered, almost reverently, "I've never seen anything move like that. Not on Khar'Zun, not in training, not even among the experimental warforms. He… he is a storm contained in flesh."
Major Torvik Hane adjusted his kinetic regulator across his back. "Every attack, every step, fractures the terrain. Each Noid struck is obliterated before it can react. And yet he spares enough for the humans to maintain the test. Precision… exquisite precision."
The others—Derric Val, Lira Voss, Halen Quor, Merek Tahl, Kaiv Ren, Orlin Drav, and Zarra Leth—watched in awe and thrill. Some could not hide the thrill that churned in their chest: the sheer scale of combat, the power condensed into a single entity. Some felt fear, realizing this was a being beyond their training and potentially beyond the very High Imperial hierarchy they served.
Varrek's voice cut through the mental analysis. "He is the anomaly. He is the test of what even we would call superior. Observe… learn. This is the standard."
Below, Magnus moved like a living weapon. His fists shattered bones, his kicks sent shockwaves tearing the earth. His martial arts flowed seamlessly, combining strikes, throws, and terrain manipulation in a symphony of raw devastation. He struck each Noid with brutal precision, but his senses extended, detecting the ridge above where the Proving Spear waited.
Varrek and his unit became targets of his analytical focus. Magnus' eyes narrowed, he recognized them immediately as High Imperial soldiers, servants of the primordial races that had once vexed him. Each movement, each strike, was now calculated to send a message: he was aware of them, and he would not forget. Not here. Not now.
Far below, Alexa gritted her teeth, watching Magnus tear through the wave alone. Her barriers shivered with the residual force of his attacks. She wanted to run to him, to throw herself into the fight, but the remaining cleaners relied on her presence. Their survival depended on her calm, her precision, her control. With a heavy heart, she whispered, "I trust you… just come back, Magnus."
The battlefield itself was a tapestry of chaos: fractured trees, deep craters, shattered earth. Level 20 Noids lay strewn in twisted heaps, while smaller rank 5 units hesitated, unsure of how to engage against a force that seemed to move faster than perception. Magnus' bare hands crushed, struck, and tore through the monsters, his martial arts now an extension of his power-core control. Every strike carried the weight of strategy, emotion, and raw force.
Varrek Thane's visor recorded the entire scene, internal sigils pulsing. "This… is the benchmark," he muttered. "No human, no known warform could operate at such efficiency, precision, and awareness. He is the apex predator of this field… yet restrained. Remarkable."
Around him, the other ten warriors adjusted their posture, adrenaline mingling with analytical focus. Thrill and respect, fear and curiosity, each emotion tempered by instinct. Magnus was not just fighting the Noids. He was demonstrating the true meaning of an S+ anomaly, the kind of force that could redefine what the High Imperial considered combat viability.
And Alexa, standing behind the human cleaners, tightened her grip on her barrier controls, forcing herself to remain grounded. Every pulse she felt from Magnus, every tremor of the battlefield, reminded her of why she had to trust him, and why she couldn't intervene, even as her heart ached with every bone-crushing strike he delivered.
Magnus' movements became a blur of controlled violence. His fists tore through Rank 20 Noids, sending shockwaves that fractured the earth and sent trees splintering like matchsticks. Each strike shattered bones and crushed armor, yet he never lingered on a kill longer than necessary, his focus was precise, merciless, and disciplined. Hundreds of Level 20 Noids fell in minutes, their screams reverberating across the forest like rolling thunder.
With each strike, Magnus subtly manipulated the terrain. The ground beneath the Noids rose and fell, forming barriers of jagged stone and shifting trenches. Fallen trees twisted into sharp barricades, forcing the lesser Noids into predictable paths. Rocks levitated and slammed down, crushing clusters before they could reach the humans. It was not chaotic, it was a carefully orchestrated slaughter designed to maximize survival of the mortals while demonstrating overwhelming dominance.
At the fortified camp, Alexa coordinated the remaining cleaners. "Barrier up! Dome formation now!" Her voice trembled with urgency, but her hands were steady as she layered multiple energy shields across the perimeter. Priya Malhotra adjusted the energy flow to reinforce weak points, while Dr. Lian Shang raced to stabilize the severely injured. Victor Rudd monitored the camera feeds, calling out patterns, showing which Noids were being funneled by Magnus' terrain manipulation.
Magnus glanced up from the battlefield, sensing their positions, sending subtle kinetic pulses as a form of communication. The humans understood immediately, they were guided without being controlled, every movement, every strike from their side amplified by the protective terrain he subtly shaped around them.
Above, the Proving Spear unit watched with growing fascination and disbelief. Varrek Thane's visor was filled with streams of combat analysis: the frequency and precision of each strike, the minute shifts in terrain, the energy outputs, and the destructive efficiency of Magnus' S+ scaled abilities.
"This… this defies everything we've trained for," Kael Dorn muttered, his fingers tightening around his weapon. "Every attack is calculated, yet adaptive. He is aware of us, aware of the humans, and yet he operates entirely within his self-imposed limit."
Sorya Malthane adjusted her targeting optics, trying to reconcile what she saw. "His battlefield manipulation… it's subtle but overwhelming. No amount of coordinated attack from us could survive that, no formation, no strategy would hold. This isn't human combat… it's applied perfection."
Major Torvik Hane's kinetic regulator flared as he instinctively calculated escape vectors. "Even if we engaged, we could not predict his response. His strikes, his terrain control… it's like facing an entire army, yet it's one entity."
Magnus continued his assault. With a single forward sweep of his arm, a line of jagged stone erupted from the forest floor, impaling clusters of Noids before they could even take a step. A nearby trench lifted, hurling dozens of enemies back into the clearing. Trees uprooted themselves, twisting in midair to form a temporary barrier, forcing the remaining Noids to converge in a funnel that Magnus had already calculated would maximize the impact of his next strike.
The humans inside the camp moved with an almost uncanny efficiency. Their skills, random and personality-driven, complemented the battlefield Magnus sculpted around them. Nara Quin adjusted microcurrents to deflect shards of stone; Owen Park carefully timed explosives to collapse smaller Noid clusters into trenches; Selik Juno blinked injured humans out of danger just as Magnus struck again.
Even Alexa, with her barrier layers, felt the subtle nudges of Magnus' energy. He wasn't controlling her, he was guiding her awareness, shaping the battlefield in a way she could respond instinctively. The human cleaners had never faced such synchronization, yet under his invisible hand, their coordination approached a level that rivaled any seasoned military unit.
Varrek Thane's squad remained silent. Each member's visor was filled with feed overlays, energy signatures, and tactical calculations. For the first time, they saw what it meant to fight at the edge of S+ potential.
"This… this is a true anomaly," Varrek said, voice low, almost reverent. "The humans… they are surviving, but not because of themselves alone. They are supported… guided by something far beyond mortal understanding. And yet he operates at S rank. Fully restrained."
Derric Val finally whispered, "The Sentinel underestimated him. Or perhaps… this is exactly why it measures him so carefully."
Magnus stepped forward, his steps cracking the forest floor like a drumbeat of judgment. The remaining Rank 20 Noids were already forming clusters, attempting to regroup, but his awareness was everywhere. He struck with martial precision, targeting leaders first, crushing the hierarchy before the rank-and-file could adapt.
Above, the Proving Spear unit adjusted their calculations. Every instinct screamed at them to act, to engage this anomaly, but the truth was undeniable: Magnus wasn't just surviving; he was redefining what it meant to fight. Their entire doctrine, every lesson drilled into them on Khar'Zun, was insufficient here. The humans were surviving not because of brute force, but because of strategy, skill, and one S+ anomaly quietly orchestrating the battlefield around them.
Even as the next wave approached, Magnus' focus never wavered. Every strike, every terrain adjustment, every signal to the humans was a message: "This is the level of force you must endure. Adapt, or be destroyed."
A few Rank 20 Noids had broken through Magnus' carefully sculpted barriers, exploiting a momentary gap as their massive bodies surged forward. Their claws dug into the earth, sending tremors across the fractured campsite. The impact force alone was enough to rock the ground beneath the humans' feet.
Alexa's barrier flared violently, a glowing dome bending and warping under the pressure. She clenched her teeth, arms trembling as her energy core tried to absorb and redistribute the brute force of the oncoming attack. Each pulse of the Noids' momentum felt like a battering ram smashing into her chest. Her fingers burned as she reinforced the barrier, veins of light spreading across the dome like fractures in glass.
Beside her, the other barrier specialists mirrored her effort. Nara Quin adjusted the currents around the force, trying to diffuse the energy without breaking the structural integrity of the shields. Selik Juno teleported the most vulnerable cleaners into the center, where the reinforced field could hold them. Even with precise coordination, the impact transferred directly into their bodies. Muscles screamed, bones ached, and sweat ran freely down their faces.
"I… can barely hold it!" one shouted, voice strained through gritted teeth. Her barrier wavered, energy flickering like a candle in the wind.
Alexa responded, urgency cutting through exhaustion: "Hold it! Just a few more seconds, Magnus has this!"
Magnus, standing at the outer perimeter, watched the assault with an icy focus. He was aware of the subtle cracks forming in the human barriers. With a controlled sweep of his arm, he redirected the nearest Noid cluster, sending the attackers flying into jagged stone walls he had summoned moments before. The shockwave from the impact splintered the earth, absorbing part of the kinetic energy that would have otherwise battered the barriers further.
The force of the surviving Noids still rippled through the shields. Alexa's ribs ached from the strain, her legs quivering as she anchored the energy dome. She could feel her Force Core Capacity draining at an accelerated rate, each pulse of defense consuming precious reserves.
Victor Rudd's voice cut through the chaos over the comms, calm yet urgent: "Energy levels critical. You've got two more seconds before the dome collapses if reinforcement isn't maintained!"
Breathing hard, Alexa called back, "We've got it! Five more seconds, everyone brace!" Her hands glowed white-hot as she poured everything into the barrier, absorbing the kinetic energy into the dome while transferring a fraction of the stress back into her body, muscles burning with the effort.
A single Rank 20 Noid slammed into the dome like a missile. The light of the barrier flared and warped violently, but it held, the energy bending, stretching, and then snapping back into position. Alexa fell to one knee, chest heaving, sweat and blood streaking her face. Her body ached in every joint, her fingers numb, yet her determination did not falter.
Magnus' gaze shifted, silently signaling the humans: hold steady. He would not intervene directly—yet. The message was clear: they had survived worse, and now they had to endure the next assault, no matter the cost.
The ground around the campsite was a cratered nightmare: splintered trees, jagged rocks, and smoking earth. The Noids that had broken through now recoiled, sensing the calculated force of the anomaly above them. Alexa and her team steadied themselves, pushing through the burning strain, knowing that every second of endurance bought them a fraction of time before Magnus would escalate again.
Even in their exhaustion, even with broken ribs and shaking limbs, they had survived the strike. But the memory of the pain, the weight of the Noids' brute force, would stay with them for the rest of the day, a visceral lesson in the cost of holding the line.
Magnus' eyes narrowed, the forest trembled under the rhythm of his breathing. His dark agency outfit rippled as he reached for the two cylindrical containers strapped across his back belt. Each container was deceptively simple, smooth, metallic, unassuming, but Magnus knew the truth. Within them lay millions of needles, individually small, individually fragile… yet imbued with force energy capable of tearing a Rank 20 Noid apart as easily as a paper doll.
He lifted the first cylinder and rotated it, calculating the trajectory. A subtle flare of light coursed through the needles, each one charged with enough concentrated kinetic and thermobaric energy to mimic the blast of a grenade. He did not hesitate. With a single, fluid motion, he launched both cylinders above the camp, the containers spinning in midair before bursting, releasing the lethal rain.
The needles fell like a crimson meteor storm, each one piercing the ground and ricocheting off trees, their energy detonating with the roar of thermobaric force. Trees shattered, soil erupted, and smaller Rank 20 Noids were shredded before they even reached the clearing. The camp trembled as the impact waves hit the outer perimeter, but Magnus' foresight was precise.
He extended his arms, palms glowing white-hot, and cast a barrier around the campsite that flared outward like a rising dome of light. The barrier absorbed and redistributed the blast waves, preventing the needles' destructive force from directly hitting the humans. The air itself seemed to bend as Magnus combined his telepathic and telekinetic powers, lifting tons of soil, rock, organic matter, and minerals from the surrounding forest to form a layered, living shell around the camp.
The newly formed dome of earth, reinforced with stone and wood, acted as a second layer of protection, deflecting the falling needles and forcing the smaller Noids to crash into it harmlessly. Even the massive blasts that followed could not pierce the protective cocoon. Inside, Alexa and the other barrier specialists redoubled their effort, their glowing shields syncing with Magnus' terrain manipulation, forming a combined defense that rivaled the destructive energy raining down.
Victor Rudd's voice came sharply over the comms, tension clear: "FCC draining rapidly. Barrier strain exceeding fifty percent!"
Alexa shouted back, teeth gritted: "Hold it! Magnus is doing the heavy lifting!"
Outside the dome, the Rank 20 Noids howled in confusion and rage. The needles' impact shredded their ranks, throwing their coordination into chaos. Magnus moved like a phantom of wrath, punching through clusters of the elite Noids with brutal precision. Each strike carried not only his raw power but also the weight of every skill he could safely unleash under his S+ self-limit. The forest shook, boulders split, and the smaller creatures were obliterated in cascading explosions of kinetic energy.
Inside the dome, the humans dared a breath. Alexa's barrier pulsed with light as she absorbed shockwaves, her ribs screaming in pain, her body trembling, but she could see the result of Magnus' attack. Hundreds of Rank 20 Noids had been shredded, decapitated, or blasted into oblivion. The remaining wave staggered, their movement fragmented by the lethal storm he had unleashed.
Magnus' eyes scanned the surviving enemies, his telepathy subtly nudging the humans. Each tremor of his power sent micro-gestures, guiding the cleaners to strengthen weak points, shift positions, or brace against impacts. He was simultaneously obliterating the Noids and coaching the humans without uttering a single word.
The battlefield had transformed into a warped tableau of destruction: shattered forest, craters steaming with residual energy, shredded corpses of Level 20 Noids littering the ground. The humans inside the dome, though battered and exhausted, could finally breathe for a moment. For the first time in hours, they glimpsed hope, an edge of survival carved out by Magnus' intervention.
Varrek Thane and the eleven Proving Spear members on the distant ridge observed the storm of destruction with measured interest. Even they could not ignore the scale of Magnus' assault. The needles alone, raining down like a meteor storm, had obliterated forces the High Imperial had considered formidable.
Varrek's visor slit pulsed, data streaming across his HUD. "This… is the anomaly," he murmured. "Not human, yet constrained to mortal scale. He is shaping the battlefield alone, and even with his self-limit… he is rewriting the rules."
As the last of the first needle storm detonations subsided, Magnus' barrier and terrain manipulation remained intact, still protecting the humans. But the forest trembled with anticipation—the tower had already registered the anomaly, and the next wave was preparing to spawn.
Inside the protective dome, Alexa glanced at Magnus' position, her voice barely audible: "He… he's doing everything again… alone."
Victor Rudd muttered, almost in awe, "And we are still alive."
Magnus exhaled, readying for the next wave. The needles had cleared the field, the terrain had been reshaped, and the humans had survived, but he knew the tower had more tricks to throw at them. The 24-hour test was far from over.
The clearing fell silent, save for the faint crackling of scorched earth and the moans of the few surviving humans. Magnus' gaze lifted as the final Rank 20 Noid collapsed into a twisted heap, its body vaporizing under residual force energy.
Then a sharp, metallic tone echoed in the communication channels. A synthesized voice—the Sentinel or perhaps the Tower itself—spoke, precise and emotionless:
"ADJUSTMENTS HAVE BEEN MADE. THE LAST NOID WILL BE CORRECTED TO FIT THE ANOMALY'S CAPACITY. CALCULATIONS ARE IN ORDER BASED ON ACCUMULATED DATA FROM THE NOW-CONFIRMED ERROR.""
Before the echo faded, the ground shuddered. From the broken forest floor, a figure emerged. One. Single. And unlike anything Magnus, or the humans, had faced in this battle.
Standing nine feet tall, the creature's form was a twisted parody of armored perfection: the Demonoid Knight. Its plating was blackened steel, etched with crimson sigils that pulsed faintly, feeding off its own malevolent energy. The armor was angular, jagged, almost organic in its design, layered to resemble both human and inhuman skeletal forms. Each joint flexed with mechanical precision, capable of absorbing immense kinetic force. Its chest plate bore a faintly glowing core, a power reactor designed to feed its weapons and augment its combat reflexes.
Two massive swords were welded onto its forearms, serrated edges humming faintly with destructive energy. A colossal war axe, strapped across its back, gleamed ominously as if eager to taste battle. Its helm was shaped like a jagged skull with horn-like protrusions, a single slit of malevolent red light piercing the dark visor. The aura radiating from it was suffocating, a blend of raw power and sadistic design. This was a Rank 50 killing machine, designed not for subtlety, not for reconnaissance, not for defense. It was made for frontal assaults, annihilation, and terror.
Lieutenant Varrek Thane's visor slit contracted, crimson pulses spiking in alarm and curiosity. Eleven Proving Spear members collectively staggered back, the calculated calm they had carried so far replaced with brief, uncharacteristic hesitation.
One whispered, almost inaudibly, "Rank 50… that… that thing is sent to erase entire populations…"
Another added, voice taut with disbelief, "Frontal assault… designed to shield… all previous Noids were weak… this is… warfare incarnate."
Varrek's own hand tightened around the shaft of his mag-locked Proving Spear. "So," he said finally, voice low and measured, "the anomaly has drawn the attention of the High Imperial's… real toy. That… is not human. That is a weapon designed to slaughter nations, and now… it has arrived to test him."
The Demonoid Knight took a slow, deliberate step forward. The forest floor shuddered beneath its weight. Each footfall left impressions deeper than Magnus' previous attacks had carved into the ground. Its twin swords clattered softly against its armored forearms, ready to strike. The war axe swayed like a pendulum behind it, hungering for destruction.
Magnus' eyes narrowed, sensing the calculated malice emanating from the Knight. Even restrained at his mortal-imposed S+ limit, he could feel the sheer destructive potential stored within the creature's core. It was fast, precise, and utterly merciless.
Alexa watched from the protective dome, her heart hammering. The humans inside could feel the difference immediately. This wasn't just another wave, they were witnessing a war-engine the High Imperial had unleashed. Her hands tightened on her barrier staff, knowing that the few seconds she could shield the humans would barely keep them alive against a being of this scale.
Varrek Thane's unit held their position on the ridge, still evaluating, still calculating. To them, the Demonoid Knight was a confirmation: the anomaly they had been tracking, Magnus, was the only one worthy of drawing its attention. Every instinct screamed caution, but the Proving Spear warriors also felt a thrill of acknowledgment. This was a worthy variable, a candidate that forced the universe's most engineered killing machine to engage directly.
The Knight's crimson eye slit scanned the battlefield. Its focus locked on Magnus. Every muscle, every servo in its massive frame, braced. It was about to charge, to annihilate, to prove its purpose: total destruction.
And Magnus? His posture didn't flinch. He had already assessed its capabilities, the weight of its armor, the reach of its swords, the energy output of its war axe. He drew a measured breath, feeling the exhilaration of combat flow through him, the pain, the thrill, the raw understanding of facing a being designed to erase worlds.
The stage was set. The Rank 50 Demonoid Knight, the anomaly of the battlefield, and the humans caught in between. The final wave, the true test, had begun.
The clearing shook as the Demonoid Knight lunged forward. Each step of its nine-foot-tall frame compressed the forest floor into fractured stone and splintered roots. Magnus' eyes glinted beneath the dark helmet of his Omega outfit. A slow, deliberate smile curved his lips.
He drew his Force Sword, the edge humming with barely restrained energy, and leapt forward to meet the Knight's advance. The first clash was instantaneous. The Knight swung its twin forearm swords in a wide arc, energy shimmering along their edges, enough to shear through reinforced steel. Magnus met the strike blade-to-blade, the sound of metal and force colliding ringing across the clearing. Shockwaves radiated outward, toppling trees, sending the Rank 20 Noid corpses rolling like ragdolls in the residual energy.
Magnus pivoted, deflecting another swing of the Knight's sword with a precise downward slash, the force of the impact sending a massive chunk of earth flying. With his telekinesis subtly manipulating the terrain beneath his feet, he twisted the forest soil into a small ridge, propelling himself into a spinning strike. The Knight staggered back, its forearm blades sparking as Magnus' sword struck the joint between the armor plates.
The Demonoid Knight recovered instantly, bringing its war axe off its back in a downward cleaving arc. Magnus ducked low, feeling the gust of displaced air as the axe's energy sliced through stone and mud, gouging a trench in the clearing. His smile widened. The sheer destructive capability of this opponent was exhilarating. Every strike, every block, every evasive maneuver drew him deeper into the flow of combat.
Magnus' movements were an intricate dance of martial skill and battlefield manipulation. He didn't just fight with his sword, he used the terrain as an extension of his body. Rocks, tree trunks, and shards of shattered earth rose telekinetically to interfere with the Knight's attacks, forcing the monster to divert its swings or crush obstacles before reaching him. When the Knight charged, Magnus slammed his palm into the dirt, hurling tons of compacted soil toward the Knight like a battering ram. The Knight's armor held, but the shockwave staggered it, and Magnus exploited the moment with a series of precise strikes that left long, gaping cuts across its chest plate.
Every swing of his Force Sword carried energy equivalent to multiple thermobaric charges, but carefully restrained to avoid obliterating the mortal-perceivable battlefield. Trees splintered into firewood; craters punctured the clearing where stray impacts landed. Magnus used micro-teleportation to weave around the Knight's attacks, appearing in a blur to slash open armor joints, then retreating behind telekinetically raised debris before the Knight could counterattack.
The Knight roared, a mechanical, inhuman sound, and swung its axe in a full 360-degree overhead arc. Magnus grinned, meeting the blade with a spinning, grounded slash. The force of impact sent him sliding backward across the cratered earth, but the Knight overextended. He seized the opportunity, launching himself into the air. With telekinetic assistance, Magnus flipped, bringing his Force Sword down like a collapsing building onto the Knight's shoulders. The impact shattered part of the Knight's upper armor, sending sparks and molten metal spraying across the forest floor.
The Demonoid Knight spun midair, recovering its stance, swinging both swords in a deadly cross pattern. Magnus ducked and countered with a flurry of rapid strikes, each blow tearing through energy conduits and armor plates, sending fragments flying into the air like shrapnel. The Knight's red visor slit flared as Magnus' strikes chipped away at its defense. Magnus' smile never faltered; the thrill of testing skill against an apex killing machine, while restrained to mortal-scale perception, exhilarated him.
Suddenly, Magnus raised his blade high and stomped the ground. Tonnes of rock, soil, and debris telekinetically lifted around him, forming jagged pillars and walls that clashed into the Knight. The creature was forced into a defensive crouch, blocking with its massive swords and war axe. The sheer magnitude of the strike sent shockwaves outward, toppling Rank 20 Noids that had tried to close in from the sides.
Magnus struck again. Each slash, spin, and thrust created concussive waves that sent chunks of terrain into the Knight's armor, while simultaneously signaling to the humans inside the camp. He telepathically guided their barrier casters, urging them to reinforce weak points and stabilize the protective dome as the Knight's strikes displaced tons of earth and debris.
The clearing was chaos incarnate. The forest was shredded, craters gouged across what had been flat terrain, and smoke and dust hung thick in the midday air. Yet Magnus moved with surgical precision, each strike calculated, each motion amplified by telekinetic manipulation and battlefield control. Even at the S+ level, restrained to mortal perception, the magnitude of his attack forced the Demonoid Knight to constantly adapt.
Varrek Thane's visor flashed with analysis as he watched. His team's calculations ran at top speed, trying to reconcile Magnus' speed, destructive output, and strategic foresight. "The anomaly…" he muttered, almost involuntarily. "It's… it's rewriting combat logic. The Knight is strong, but…" He hesitated, red pulses flickering rapidly across his helm, "…it is being dismantled in real time. Every strike, every defense… anticipated."
The Knight roared again, swinging both swords and slamming its axe into the ground to create a shockwave, but Magnus was already gone—teleporting behind the Knight, bringing his Force Sword down in a double-edged slice that ripped open armor plating along the Knight's flank. Sparks flew. Smoke and molten metal hissed into the air.
Magnus' grin widened. Every strike taught him more about the Knight's design, its balance, its reaction time. Every defensive counter he executed reinforced the humans' survival chances. The mortals inside the barrier could feel the vibrations of each massive impact, the shaking earth under their feet, but they survived because Magnus controlled the scale of destruction, carefully restraining his S+ capabilities to avoid collateral obliteration beyond comprehension.
The Rank 50 Demonoid Knight staggered. Armor cracked. Its war axe wavered in mid-swing. Its forearm swords scraped the earth, leaving deep gouges. Magnus didn't pause. He launched into another series of telekinetic-assisted spins and strikes, using the terrain like an extension of his body. Each attack crushed the ground, toppled the smaller Noids still trying to swarm, and forced the Knight to expend enormous effort simply to stay standing.
The battlefield had become a canyon of debris, craters, shattered trees, and molten earth. Smoke, dust, and scattered sparks hung thick in the air, illuminated by Magnus' sword strikes, which cut like incandescent streaks of pure force. And still, he fought with a grin, enjoying the challenge, reveling in the pain and exertion that came from facing a being designed to erase nations.
The Rank 50 Demonoid Knight roared, a metallic, inhuman sound that reverberated through the forest. Magnus stepped forward, the dark Omega mask concealing his expression—but not his intent. He dropped the Force Sword. The Knight's twin forearm blades glimmered with energy, the war axe strapped to its back thrumming with lethal potential, yet Magnus advanced.
First, he closed the distance in a blink, telekinetically hurling a tree trunk aside to strike with a crushing sidekick that collided with the Knight's chest. The armored giant staggered but did not fall. Magnus followed immediately, pivoting and striking the Knight's right forearm sword with the heel of his palm, cracking metal along the seam. Sparks and molten shards flew. The Knight swung its left sword in retaliation, but Magnus ducked low, using a spinning sweep kick to shatter the remaining forearm weapon against the rocky ground.
The war axe came next. Magnus leapt upward, wrapping his legs around the Knight's wrist as it tried to lift the axe. With a violent twist, he ripped the weapon free from the armor strap. The axe clattered across the cratered clearing, harmless now in the hands of the Knight. Magnus landed gracefully, fists ready, the soil beneath his feet trembling as if in fear.
They engaged directly, bare-handed. Each punch Magnus threw sent concentric shockwaves outward. The Knight's massive frame absorbed the hits, but even its reinforced armor crumpled slightly with each strike. Magnus ducked a rising swing of the Knight's fists, countering with an elbow strike that sent a vibration deep into the earth. Rocks split, dust plumed into the air, and the smaller Noids surrounding the clearing were blasted aside, unable to withstand the seismic power.
The Knight retaliated, swinging a fist that could have crushed a tree. Magnus caught it mid-swing, twisting the arm with precise leverage, and drove the Knight backward. He leapt atop a mound of broken terrain and launched a series of spinning aerial kicks, each strike creating arcs of displaced air that hurled rocks and shards like miniature meteor showers.
The Demonoid Knight charged, attempting to grapple Magnus. Magnus sidestepped and drove a knee into its midsection, sending it crashing through a crater. But the Knight rose instantly, roaring, swinging with two fists simultaneously. Magnus parried one with his forearm, countering with a rapid flurry of punches to the chest and shoulders. Each strike resonated like a drumbeat of apocalypse—the tremors rolling across the clearing, upturning earth, dislodging tree roots, and making smaller Noids stumble.
He executed a spinning backhand kick, catching the Knight on its jaw. The armor dented, the metal groaning, and Magnus followed immediately with a palm strike to the Knight's sternum, driving it into a crater so deep it splintered into shards of stone and dirt. Rocks rose telekinetically around him to encase the Knight momentarily, but Magnus shattered them with a single downward punch, sending shockwaves that splintered the nearby trees.
The battle escalated further. Magnus' martial arts were a combination of blinding speed and tactical genius. He twisted, flipped, and struck, moving fluidly with the terrain itself as an extension of his body. Every kick and punch caused reverberations that shook the forest floor. The Knight countered with brute force, each swing creating arcs of energy that tore through rock and earth, yet Magnus adapted, dancing in and out, breaking its limbs and armor incrementally.
Finally, as Magnus delivered a spinning uppercut, the cumulative energy of their combat—the shockwaves, the seismic displacement, the raw kinetic collisions—reached a critical threshold. His Omega mask, engineered to absorb force, began to crack. A deep, satisfying fracture ran across the faceplate. Magnus did not flinch. With a grin, he ripped it fully away, exposing his face to the world.
The tremors of their battle rolled outward like tectonic upheavals. King Finduilas Flameleaf and his army, positioned at the edge of the clearing, watched in absolute silence. Their eyes were wide with trembling fear, not just at the scale of destruction, but at the ferocity, precision, and raw mastery of Magnus' combat. The warriors pressed themselves against rocks and foliage, hiding from the sight but unable to look away.
Magnus and the Demonoid Knight collided again. Bare fists met armor and reinforced muscle, the shockwaves splintering the earth beneath them, tearing roots from trees, and sending clouds of debris into the air. Magnus' kicks shattered plates along the Knight's chest and shoulders, his elbows and knees fractured limbs, and finally, a decisive series of palm strikes drove the Knight to its knees.
The Knight raised its fists for one final strike, but Magnus, with a calculated leap and a spinning double-fist uppercut, sent it flying across the clearing. It landed in a crater, cracked, scorched, and broken, its once-imposing weapons useless. Magnus landed lightly on the shattered terrain, his grin still intact, his face uncovered. Dust, smoke, and the smell of molten metal and shattered stone filled the air.
The battlefield was a ruined landscape: craters, shattered trees, and jagged earth outlined the path of their combat. Yet Magnus stood, the humans' barriers reinforced, the smaller Noids decimated, and the Rank 50 Demonoid Knight reduced to nothing more than a broken monument of its former terror.
At the edge of the clearing, King Finduilas and his soldiers could only remain hidden, hearts pounding, staring at the mortal-perceivable , might of a single person , knowing they had witnessed the combat of a being that redefined power, not knowing he was constrained to be like the awaked human in their scale.