The sun dipped slowly below the distant horizon. Twilight’s glow faded as night’s shadow crept up the spire. This was Seralni’s highest point—the central tower piercing the capital’s heart. At 150 meters tall, it was unremarkable in Mio’s world, yet a marvel in this slave-driven society. Night’s shadow climbed the tower, banishing the last amber light. The chill wind tousled Mio’s silver hair as she stood atop the spire, gazing at the city swallowed by darkness. The view from above wasn’t unpleasant. Yet the snow-blanketed city from her past overlapped this sight. Mio frowned, refusing to relive her madness.
*This time, I won’t lose control,* she vowed silently. *I will take this step.*
She focused, drawing power from the darkness within her soul.
---
Far away, atop a hill, Yao Ye watched the sun vanish. Black miasma surged behind her, coalescing into a bandage-wrapped figure. Ilduchi, the Mad Blade, knelt on one knee, his head bowed respectfully.
“Divine One,” he rasped, “permit me to slay that insolent girl who disrespected you.”
“Do as you wish,” Yao Ye nodded.
“Your will be done.” Ilduchi bowed again—and dissolved into miasma.
*Mio… will you die?* Yao Ye chuckled alone in the dark. *I’m eager to see.*
---
As the final sliver of sunset vanished, a colossal magic circle blazed crimson above Seralni, halting its rotation. The Fallen God’s game had begun.
Seralni’s defense was brutally simple:
**Commander:** Grand Captain Gildrais
**Vanguard:** Captain Theris, 1st Company
**Champion:** Sword Saint Esmeralda
**Mobile Unit:** Rasputin
The Hamodia Swordsmen’s 1st Company split into ten squads. Each paired with fifty guardsmen, they’d act as roving hunters. Spot the enemy? Fire a signal flare. Nearby squads would converge. Theris would charge first, holding until Gildrais and Rasputin arrived. Aimee’s duty? Guard the Governor’s Mansion—the final line against weakened Death Servants.
Mio wasn’t part of this plan. No one believed she could fight.
Seralni’s citizens had evacuated. Under guard supervision, one hundred thousand freemen and slaves huddled in three warded zones: the city temple, the metal warehouse, and the old Imperial Army garrison. That fortress still stood, its defenses intact. The entire city would become a battlefield.
---
A cold wind swept through the gates. A shadow stepped onto the street. With each footfall, black miasma rotted the cobblestones beneath it. The girl, eyes hollow, stared toward the distant spire.
“Hilda.” A voice called her name. She turned. From the darkness emerged a warrior swathed in bandages. He stroked her hair with a wrapped hand.
“Do you understand your task?”
“Yes, Lord Ilduchi,” she whispered, a trace of fear in her voice.
“Fear nothing, my kin,” Ilduchi said. “Only strength is trustworthy. Strength grants all—mercy, justice, order… empty words for the weak. Go, Hilda. Slaughter them. Make them regret how they treated you. You have the power. You have the right! You are the Divine One’s chosen. Prove it now.”
A twisted grin spread across Hilda’s face. Black miasma erupted from her shadow, swallowing her whole. It morphed into a pulsating sphere, devouring everything it touched.
“And now,” Ilduchi’s gaze lifted to the central spire, “it’s my turn to shine.”
---
Gaius Sura was a swordsman. At fourteen, he’d joined the Hamodia Swordsmen. After twenty years of blood and steel, he’d earned his place in the elite 1st Company. Now, he led nine swordsmen and fifty guardsmen patrolling the East Gate. But they were trapped.
Black miasma slithered down the street. Frontline guards raised shields on Gaius’s order—only to vanish with their shields into the darkness. Anything the miasma touched crumbled to rot. With no mages present, Gaius could only shout: “Fall back!”
As survivors fled, Ilduchi blocked their path, scimitar gleaming.
“Good evening,” he grinned, lidless eyes fixed on them. “Die here.”
Death’s chill shot up Gaius’s spine. The rear guards stood frozen before the Death Servant. Gritting his teeth, Gaius drew his longsword. “Rear guard! Form ranks! Spears forward!”
Heartened by their captain, the guards leveled their spears. For poorly trained militia, the reach brought comfort. Even cavalry would hesitate before such a wall.
But death came in an instant.
Ilduchi swung his scimitar. Shattered spears. Severed heads. Two Hamodia swordsmen charged—he cut them down before their blades cleared scabbards.
Ilduchi carved through the rear guard. Steel flashed. Limbs and blood painted the air. His dance of death was beautiful. *Too strong!* Gaius realized his own mortality. The 1st Company’s finest were nothing.
Miasma pressed from the front, shrinking their space. Gaius parried Ilduchi’s scimitar—then his sword and right hand flew skyward. *The gap is too vast. Is this the difference between mortal and demigod?* He clutched his stump, staring at the crescent blade descending—
Ilduchi suddenly leapt back.
A depleted uranium round cratered the stone street. Shrapnel sprayed. Ilduchi had dodged a sniper shot from kilometers away—his beast-like instincts saving him. Before he landed, a second shot came. He slashed it apart midair.
“Show me your best!” He pointed his blade at the spire. “Let me see your skill!”
---
Atop the tower, Mio clicked her tongue. Cooling fluid hissed from the 20mm railgun’s barrel. The three-meter weapon, powered by electricity, could fire depleted uranium rounds at Mach 5. She aimed again. The fire-control computer calculated the trajectory. She fired.
The railgun roared. The round flew true—deflected by Ilduchi’s blade.
*He pinpointed my position already? Too fast…*
Mio released the railgun. It melted into black sludge. She drew deeply from her soul’s darkness. Tar-like ooze surged at her feet. Moonlight glinted on a heavy gray mech—the Night Watch’s M103 “Thunder Hammer” exoskeleton. Its arms mounted twin 20mm Ripper Autocannons; missile pods lined its back. Mio slid into the cockpit. Her mind synced with the controls. The main camera feed filled her vision.
Before becoming a Night Watch cyborg, Mio had been a Ghostface Army pilot. She knew this machine. This was her battlefield.
---
A black drone glided through Seralni’s night sky. Its sensor pod locked onto Ilduchi sprinting across rooftops like solid ground. Target data streamed to Mio’s HUD via high-speed datalink. The FCS computed firing solutions in 0.03 seconds. Mio pulled the trigger.
The Ripper Autocannons roared. Tracer fire stitched golden lines across the dark. Brass shells clattered on the tower roof. At 300 rounds per minute, the cannons spat death. Each shell contained fifty tungsten flechettes with programmable proximity fuses—designed to shred aircraft.
Fire rained down. Houses collapsed in clouds of dust and flame.
Mio gave no quarter. She fired missiles. Ten fragmentation warheads launched from the vertical pods, arcing toward the target zone. Guided by the drone, they saturated the area. Fireballs bloomed over burning rubble. *No one survives that.*
But triumph died instantly.
A proximity alarm shrieked. Mio stomped the pedals. The Thunder Hammer’s auxiliary wheels screeched as it lurched backward. Steel flashed. The left autocannon shattered. Ilduchi stood before her, scimitar raised.
*How did he get up here?!*
The tower bristled with motion sensors. Trip any, and directional mines would detonate. Mio had turned it into a fortress—breached effortlessly. Teeth clenched, she triggered explosive bolts. The autocannons and missile pods jettisoned. From the arm guards, twin vibro-blades snapped out with a metallic whine.
“What armor is this?” Ilduchi crossed his scimitars atop the spire. “Fascinating. But the Divine One’s blades cut all!”
He vanished. Mio’s drone feed painted a 360-degree view. Ilduchi materialized behind the Thunder Hammer. She detonated the rear reactive armor panels—designed for anti-tank missiles, but lethal as shrapnel at close range. Metal shards tore through Ilduchi’s bandaged form.
Mio spun the mech, vibro-blades screaming for the kill—
Ilduchi dodged by a hair. His scimitars glowed blue. They sheared through the Thunder Hammer’s arm. The mech staggered. Servos whined, fighting to stabilize. *Can’t press the attack.* Mio retreated.
Ilduchi didn’t follow. He stood motionless, bandages fluttering in the wind. Moonlight made the red runes on his wrappings pulse. His ravaged flesh regenerated at terrifying speed.
Mio frowned. The Death Servant’s power exceeded her calculations.
*Could she really defeat such a monster?*
