The bulky man in noble livery wore worry like winter frost, gazing at the wide plain unfurled beyond the castle like a gray sea.

Tir Town’s ground lay bare and flat, wrong for siege or defense; the only natural moat was a single ribbon of water, a thin vein around stone. It was a cruel setup for a castellan raised pampered in noble halls.

“Report. We’ve hired every mage we can find,” the soldier panted, sweat beading like rain on bronze. “But there’s no archmage who can repair the array.”

The castellan sighed, a heavy wind in a shuttered room, and waved him off to rest. His hands gripped the bedside rail, his breaths coming thin.

Fear bit first, then thought followed, dark and tangled. Even if he survived this beast tide, the town would lie trampled. Return to the capital, and the royal house would turn its face. Exile would be mercy; stripping of title would be the real blade.

His mind snagged on that archmage who’d said he was running home to visit family.

“Damn old goat,” he snarled, temper flaring like sparks on dry straw. “I coddle him year-round, and when it matters, he drops the chain. During the last cult revolt he claimed constipation and refused to act. When I return to the palace council, I’ll denounce that fossil! No bribe can buy this off!”

He clenched both fists, slammed one into the window frame, wood splintering like brittle bark. His teeth ground like gravel.

“No reply from the border reinforcements. At the sharpest moment, nothing holds.”

Elsewhere, the scale of the beast tide forced soldiers to scour the streets, recruiting anyone with battle scars to man the walls.

Idle adventurers saw coin glittering like fish in a net and signed up in droves.

Eli’s group stayed out.

It wasn’t malice, nor greed. His calm came first, then the simple conclusion. Even if the tide hit, he could act from the shadows with little risk. Why grab their small pay?

And if they learned he was an archmage, who knew what strings they’d pull.

On arrays, Eli was soft right now, a gap in a strong weave. If they begged him to fix the formation and pinned all hope on him, that weight was a mountain he couldn’t shoulder.

So he quietly wished for another archmage to show and mend the array. Then he wouldn’t need to lift a hand.

He returned to the inn with daily goods and a basket of snacks, content in small ways.

Border town, after all. Ignorance breeds fearless hearts; rumor thins fear like mist.

Faces in the inn glowed with excitement, not dread. It was a restless festival, not a vigil.

That was fine. Anything but fear was good, for now.

He carried the snack basket to the girls’ door and knocked lightly. In a blink, Edlyn’s small, suspicious face slid through the crack. “Huh? You’re back? What do you want now?”

Eli smiled and raised the basket. “A gift. For you.”

“Eh?” Edlyn blinked, words caught like fish in a shallow pool.

From the first glance, something impish in him wanted to prank her—heat first, restraint second. He had held himself back most days.

But now… their ties had warmed, hadn’t they? (Edlyn: Not even close!)

He seized the chance, lifted a hand, and mussed her head. His clumsy touch scattered her lovely white hair like snow disturbed by wind.

Edlyn frowned, shook free, and knocked his hand aside. “Hey! What are you doing!”

“Ahem. Sorry, sorry.” Eli waved both hands.

The feel was addicting—soft as silk on fresh snow. Like a haughty white cat, it made his fingers itch to keep petting.

Edlyn cut him a wary glance, dodged the basket, muttered a flat “Thanks,” and shut the door with clean finality.

Eli smiled, slow as twilight. “We’ll take it slow. There’ll be chances. Right?”

Inside.

The two girls stared at the basket like it held a sleeping spirit. Silence pooled.

Angela sucked on her left hand, a ribbon of drool trailing down her finger like a silver thread.

Edlyn grimaced, plucked a paper and wiped it away. “Have some dignity. Don’t drool yourself hungry.”

“Mm.” Angela looked up, eyes wet, wounded like a pup. She was still a child, after all.

“Fine, eat.” Edlyn caved, helpless before that face.

The Hero himself had delivered it. Poison was unlikely, and there was no reason to poison them.

Edlyn sat on a stool, thoughts drifting like clouds.

She’d sat here all morning. Boredom gnawed like mice in walls.

But the Hero personally bringing food? That set pride blooming like a red peony.

See? That’s servant treatment in reverse. Doesn’t that mean I’ve basically beaten the Hero already?

So she thought, smug and silly.

Two days later, Edlyn and Eli sat in the lobby, eating breakfast while sunlight spilled like warm honey.

Angela still slept soundly in the room, tangled in blankets like a lazy lamb.

Edlyn propped her chin and sighed, a bored wind. “Hey, Hero. I’m bored. What’s with these people? I step out and they try to control me.”

Eli smiled and shook his head. “Special times. You’ll get it soon.”

“Always secrets. What’s there to hide from me?” Edlyn folded her arms, snatched Eli’s black tea, drained it, and glared in challenge.

Eli raised a hand and called for another, gentle as rain on slate.

“You actually like this stuff?” Edlyn tasted the new cup and spat a little, disgruntled. “Bitter and astringent. What is this?”

The Demonic Lord’s palate had clearly been spoiled by better teas; this was mud to a dragon’s tongue.

Boom!

A thunderclap exploded above the town, and a thin sheen like a sky-blue veil began unraveling in the air.

Eli lifted his eyes, calm as a still pond, tea warm in hand.

At the same moment, a hooded man of the New Era Sect tipped his head back and watched.

Both smiled. “It begins.”

Roar!!

A colossal beast cry surged from deep forest, rolling like black surf across the plain.

On the wall, the castellan trembled, a reed in a storm.

That… could be a saint-tier giant out there.

Could they hold?

He drew the insignia of the Holy Court Church from his breast, clenched it, and prayed under his breath. “My Lord, save your poor children.”

“All units, ready!” The wall commander snapped to, raising the banner of the Draco Empire like a scarlet flame, waking soldiers from their daze.

Predators pounded in packs and got crushed into pulp at the base of the wall. Sweat ran on armor like rain on stone.

Under the orders of that leader born for crisis, beasts hadn’t broken through—yet.

Inside, farmers kept at their work, hands steady as if sowing through thunder. The town had coin; supplies hadn’t thinned—yet.

Everyone knew the truth under the clamor. This was only the first wave.

That soul-shaking roar stayed in every heart like a cold nail.

“Reinforce the walls! Damn it! Throw the craven fools down to feed the dogs!” The castellan bellowed, pride burned to steel. Even pampered, he fought on the line. And he saw an adventurer crouching in fear.

Anger flared like wildfire.

“No, my lord! I— I sensed something terrible,” the man stammered, words tripping over fear.

The castellan’s nerves were a taut string. Thought came later; grip came first. He seized the man’s throat and lifted him. “Speak! Or I feed you to the beasts!”

“I— I have a gift of augury,” the man gasped, eyes wild. “Any moment… the wall will break! My lord, get every mage to reinforce it!”

The castellan’s fury cooled a breath, then reason cut through noise. He flung the man aside and barked orders, sending mages racing to the gate.

The seer slumped against stone, head tilted, drool stringing like wax. “Too late… too late.”

“What!” The castellan spun and kicked him hard, boot cutting through filth and fear.

The man lurched up, splattered with muck, laughing like a broken bell. “Hahaha! We’ll all die here! Hahaha!”

In the forest, a girl with the New Era Sect emblem inked bright on her arm sat upon a massive rhino’s skull like a pale throne and snapped her fingers.

The plain shook like an earthquake, wave linked to wave, under the rhino’s charge.

Before stunned eyes, the sealed city gate crumbled like tofu under iron hooves, timber and stone bursting like grain blown from a mill.

“What happened?” Eli’s tea spattered the table, a brown tide over white cloth.

Edlyn lost her step and fell into Eli’s arms. He caught her, frowning toward the gate like a hawk sights storm.

“Edlyn. Guard your sister. I’m going out.” His voice was steady; his pulse was a drum.

Edlyn felt the awkward angle, heat flushing first, fists flying second. She drove an uppercut into his chest, shoved him five meters back, and waved him off. “Go, go. Keep your distance.”

Eli shrugged, dropped her some coin for backup, and headed for the gate like a shadow sliding under light.

At the same time, the hidden arrays Eli had etched by their door flared awake. Fire jets screamed out, roasting nearby beasts, heat rolling over the wall like a red tide.

The flames barely singed the rhino.

The castellan stared at the creature whose head rose higher than the wall. He swallowed, throat dry. “A dragon‑rhino… power on par with a saint tier.”

Aungh!!

It didn’t fear the fire, but the relentless sear turned its temper to iron. It lifted its head and bellowed, rage shaking dust from stone.

The so-called seer foamed at the mouth, breath trapped like a bird in wire—more in than out.

A human was no bigger than the rhino’s eye. Scale crushed hope like a boot on a flower.

“How do we win…” The castellan’s voice scraped, staring at bodies thrown down by the tremor, pain ringing through the line like a bell.