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The city slept beneath a blanket of stars... until a brutal shriek tore through the night. The magical alarms reacted too late, and the guards' cries barely echoed among the battlements:
—Attack! Attack!
Chaos swept through the streets within seconds. Along the walls, enchanted torches flickered in the fog, revealing flashes of nightmare: red eyes, titanic shadows, and claws tearing through stone.
Then the first beast burst through. A colossal feline, the size of a warhorse, leaped over the wall and landed among the defenders. The nearest soldier tried to shield himself, but the claws pierced through his shield, slamming him against the wall and opening a deadly breach.
—Hold the line!
The order was drowned out by roars. More emerged from the fog: three, ten... dozens. A living storm of claws and fangs descended upon Eldoria. The first rank raised their spears, but one monster dodged the points mid-leap and crashed into the men, tearing their formation apart. Another creature used a rooftop to flank them, killing three guards before they could turn around. Panic spread, and the line collapsed.
From the central tower, Marcus Valentine—the Jackal—watched the carnage unfold. After decades of defending the fortress, the hardened governor clenched his fists in disbelief as he watched his supposedly impregnable walls fall as though they were made of clay.
—By the gods... this can't be happening.
A feline climbed onto the adjacent defensive tower, tearing away an entire section of battlement with the sheer strength of its claws. The stone blocks crashed into the street, crushing soldiers and scattering the survivors. To make matters worse, an enchanted torch rolled among the market stalls; within seconds, the fire caught, staining the fog a bloody orange.
Eldoria was burning.
—Mages! —Marcus roared, slamming his fist against the desk in fury. —Contain those beasts!
The spellcasters rushed toward the walls, hurling their spells without order or coordination. Bolts of fire, spears of ice, and blades of wind tore through the night, but the beasts displayed terrifying agility. They dodged most of the attacks in midair. One feline took a direct magical hit but emerged from the smoke with barely a scratch on its flank; a second later, it charged into the mages, slaughtering them before they could even raise their barriers.
The pack changed tactics. They were no longer tearing down walls; they were hunting. They cornered soldiers in the alleys, dragged civilians from their hiding places, and overturned carts to block evacuation routes.
Marcus realized it with horror from the tower:
—They're... hunting us.
Suddenly, a deathly silence fell over the central square. The smaller beasts stopped roaring and parted, making way for a colossal mass.
An A-Omega feline.
Its pitch-black fur seemed to devour the light of the flames. With every step of its claws, the cobblestones cracked and the ground trembled. The creature raised its head and swept the square with crimson eyes filled with cold, calculating intelligence.
It unleashed a roar so powerful that the shockwave emptied the defenders' lungs, forcing dozens of soldiers to their knees.
The A-Omega spotted a group of civilians fleeing down a side street and made a subtle gesture; a smaller feline shot forward to intercept them. Marcus desperately drew his sword, but he was too far away to intervene.
The monster leaped.
And then... a brutal thunderclap answered from the darkness.
A roar infinitely deeper shook the foundations of the fortress. Two felines were sent flying through the fog, smashing through stone walls as though they were made of paper.
The pack reacted instantly. They did not panic. Instead, they reorganized with military discipline: the smaller specimens took to the rooftops while the others flanked the side entrances. The A-Omega planted itself firmly in the center of the square, its fur bristling as it waited.
A radiant light began to form above the jagged silhouette of the walls. First, a pinpoint of light; then, a blaze that bathed the clouds in a divine glow.
The beasts looked up in unison.
The light descended upon Eldoria.
Three figures pierced through the fog, and alongside them fell a steed wrapped in lightning. Its hooves touched the air for a millisecond before striking the cobblestones.
CRACK!
A colossal thunderclap detonated in the center of the square. Arcs of electricity raced through the streets in every direction, drowning out the market fires beneath a flash of pure blue.
The soldiers looked up in disbelief; the felines flattened their ears against their skulls and lowered their bodies, readying their claws. Only the A-Omega remained standing, fixing its crimson pupils on the steed and the three figures guarding its flank. It had found prey worthy of its strength.
Marcus did not waste a second. He charged down the stairs of the central tower and crossed the gate, emerging among the embers and corpses with his blade drawn.
—Everyone who can still fight, with me! —the Jackal's voice roared. —Shields to the front! Mages behind! Don't chase the beasts! Hold the line!
The survivors obeyed instinctively. With dented armor and splintered shields, the men closed ranks once again, forming an improvised wall of steel around the newcomers.
Marcus held the A-Omega's gaze and flashed a fierce, rugged smile filled with bloodlust.
—Let's see what kind of monster you are.
The A-Omega bared its fangs, and the pack lunged from the rooftops and side streets.
The carnage in Eldoria had just become a hunt between predators.
A terrifying roar tore through the night and shook the walls of Eldoria.
The A-Omega feline—a colossus of muscle and overflowing mana—charged into the front line. Its claws cut through the air, and the iron shields splintered before they could even withstand the direct impact. Several soldiers were sent flying, crashing into rooftops, cobblestones, and the smoldering remains of the square.
Marcus Valentine had no time to give another order: the monster was already upon him.
A claw came crashing down with the force of an avalanche. Marcus raised his sword just in time.
CLANG!
The impact shot through his arm like an electric lash. Pain surged into his shoulder, and his fingers instantly went numb. He stepped back—only once—before the A-Omega lunged again. Marcus barely managed to twist his body aside; the claw grazed his face and tore an entire block of stone from the wall.
There was no technique behind those movements, nor did there need to be. It was pure speed, brute strength, and predatory instinct taken to an overwhelming level.
The central square burned around them. Every blow made the stone slabs beneath their feet tremble; every roar shook the surrounding buildings, sending chunks of masonry collapsing amid the fire and smoke.
Marcus gritted his teeth.
The Jackal of Eldoria. Governor. Commander.
And at that moment, the last bastion standing between that creature and his city.
He raised the Supreme Staff.
The shadows beneath his boots trembled before coming to life. Columns of liquid darkness erupted from cracks in the ground, while spectral arms and dense folds of shadow emerged from among the rubble and fallen soldiers, wrapping themselves around the feline.
The dark masses bound its legs, torso, and neck.
The A-Omega stopped.
For the first time since it had entered Eldoria, its advance had been halted.
It did not retreat or show any sign of pain. It simply turned its head. Its glowing pupils locked onto Marcus, and the roar that emerged from its throat changed in tone.
It no longer expressed hunger.
It expressed recognition.
An icy shiver ran down Marcus's spine.
The beast had identified the source of the seal—and had decided to destroy it.
The A-Omega tensed its muscles.
The shadows began to fracture.
One claw tore through the first column. Another pierced a spectral arm. A third ripped open a gap between the folds of darkness.
Marcus felt every rupture reflected in his own flesh. His mana was plummeting, his breathing becoming labored, and darkness beginning to creep into the edges of his vision.
Even so, he held the staff with an iron grip.
The monster did not blindly charge again.
It tested one flank, and Marcus reinforced the barrier.
It changed angles.
Another shadow fell into place, and Marcus adjusted the spell.
Blow after blow.
Crack after crack.
His mana slipped through his fingers.
Marcus understood.
The creature was not trying to break the containment through brute force.
It was testing his endurance, searching for a weakness.
—Damn it...
The scorching air seared his lungs, while thick smoke scraped against his throat.
Then, amid the chaos, he heard laughter.
A child's laughter.
Marcus froze for a fraction of a second.
The echo of his daughter running between the market stalls—the very same stalls now burning behind him—pierced him like an arrow.
The memory brought pain.
But it also rekindled a spark of strength he had believed was already gone.
Marcus tightened his grip around the Supreme Staff with renewed fury.
—You're not getting through.
Behind him, the survivors retreated toward the alleyways, surrounded by the smaller felines stalking them without haste.
They no longer attacked head-on.
They were methodically surrounding them.
One creature cast a shadow from beneath its paws. It crawled across the ground until it seized a guard by the ankle, dragging him into the darkness.
The formation broke as his comrades tried to rescue him, and another beast descended upon them.
Farther ahead, when a group attempted to erect an improvised barricade, the felines simply overturned a wagon, sealing off the passage.
They were not destroying things on instinct.
They were closing the escape routes.
Marcus realized it while maintaining the A-Omega's containment.
The entire city was becoming a death trap, and he was the only thing standing between the central beast and the last remaining defenders.
The Supreme Staff trembled violently.
The shadow restraining the colossus's right leg began to crack.
Marcus's mana was running dry.
Not yet, he told himself, gritting his teeth until he tasted his own blood.
Not yet.