"KUMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
The roar of the bear golems shook the village ground for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Seven pillars of pale blue-white light shot simultaneously from their cross-shaped mouths, striking the front lines of the monster parade with a devastating explosion that illuminated the night sky as if daylight had arrived early.
BOOOOMMMM—!!!
The ground trembled. The wooden windows of the houses rattled violently. Several roof tiles fell and shattered on the quiet pathways. Smoke and dust billowed high into the air, spreading in every direction like a hungry gray fog.
In front of the village gate, dust filled everything.
Thick.
Dense.
Almost impenetrable.
Even the moonlight disappeared, swallowed by the gray haze that moved slowly, like a living creature.
Cedric stood atop the watchtower, both hands gripping the wooden railing tightly. His knuckles were white. Cold sweat ran down his temples, dampening the wrinkles on his face, which looked older tonight.
He couldn't breathe a sigh of relief.
Not even after dozens of [Kuma Howling] attacks had been launched.
Not even after the monsters' bodies had been shattered and scattered time and again.
Because inside that thick cloud of dust—between the gaps of the gray haze that moved slowly, like a nightmare that refused to end—black silhouettes still kept moving forward.
THUD...
THUD...
THUD...
Heavy footsteps that made the ground vibrate.
Monsters.
Still walking.
Still approaching.
Never stopping.
Never panicking.
Unaffected by the destruction around them. As if their bodies, destroyed over and over again, had never been a reason to stop.
Cedric gritted his teeth.
Cold sweat dripped from his chin.
Down below, in front of the main gate, the seven bear golems still stood firm. The light of the ancient symbols on their stone bodies pulsed—but not as brightly as before.
Their pulses slowed.
Like hearts growing weary.
[Kuma Beam]
BOOOOOOMMMMM—!!!
Seven pillars of giant light shot straight forward.
Not sweeping the area.
But piercing.
Destroying.
Annihilating.
A single straight line of death that split the monster ranks in two.
The Hell Wolves in front vanished instantly.
The Goblin Knights behind them were swept away.
The Goblin Riders who tried to dodge—too late.
Their bodies were destroyed before they could scream.
Even the massive, thick-bodied Hell Bears—
Their bodies were punctured.
Their chests were hollowed out.
Black blood poured out.
But—
They didn't fall.
Because no matter how many times they were wounded by the bear golems' attacks, no matter how severe the wounds inflicted, their injuries always healed quickly.
The monsters were getting closer and closer to the village.
Meanwhile.
Inside the old church of Eldwyn, the atmosphere had turned into a suffocating silence. The candles that had once burned brightly were now dim, nearly extinguished.
The golden shadows on the stone walls slowly disappeared, replaced by darkness creeping from every corner of the room. The air felt heavy, cold, and filled with a fatigue so palpable it seemed almost tangible.
Once, over twenty girls had stood in a large circle in this room.
Their voices had echoed, blended, creating a harmony that was both calming and electrifying.
Now—
only three remained.
Three girls still holding on.
Their faces were pale. Their lips were dry and cracked. Their bodies trembled violently, supported by old wooden chairs they had dragged over themselves because their legs could no longer bear their weight.
Around them, dozens of other bodies lay limp on the cold stone floor. Some sat slumped against pillars, some lay with their eyes closed, their breathing very faint—almost inaudible. A few had fainted ten minutes ago, their faces as pale as melting wax.
Elder Harald still stood in the center of the circle.
His wooden staff, which once tapped the floor with a steady rhythm, now only pressed into the ground, serving as a prop to keep his frail body from collapsing.
His gaze swept the room.
Swept over the girls who were still trying.
Swept over those who had already fallen.
──Yami wa fukaku... mada tooku...
Their voices came out broken, like whispers of wind about to vanish at any moment.
──Koe wa karete... mada todokanu...
Elder Harald bit his lip.
──Demo watashi-tachi wa... akiramenai...
"El...der..."
One of them—the youngest, perhaps only sixteen years old—lifted her head. Her eyes were red, wet, but she still tried to smile.
"...we... haven't... given up..."
Atop the watchtower, Cedric watched with his heart feeling as if it were being squeezed.
The seven bear golems still stood in front of the gate.
But—
something had changed.
The ancient symbols on their stone bodies, already weakened earlier, were now growing even dimmer.
Almost extinguished.
Like sunlight on the western horizon, reluctant to disappear completely—but knowing that night would soon prevail.
Their pulses slowed further.
Like giant hearts running out of blood.
Cedric bit his lip.
He turned his gaze toward the church.
From there, the song could still be heard.
But very faintly.
Only three voices.
And even then—like whispers about to vanish.
──Shooting Star yo... michi wo hirake...
──Itsuka ano sora e... todoku hi made...
──Watashi-tachi wa utai tsuzukeru...
"Hold on..." Cedric whispered.
He didn't know if his prayer was heard.
But he kept whispering.
"...hold on... just a little longer..."
In the distance, the black silhouettes kept moving forward.
Monsters.
Still not exhausted.
Still not stopping.
──Tatoe kono mi ga... kiete mo...
Inside the church, the voices of the three girls grew even weaker.
──Shooting Star wa... kienai kara...
The final lyrics came out like a sigh.
Then—
silence.
At that very moment—
the golems, which had been preparing to unleash their attack on the enemy, had their cross-shaped mouths glow and then shatter, their light dissipating without a trace.
"The golems have all stopped!!"
A watchman's shout from below the tower shattered the spreading panic. His voice trembled, nearly breaking mid-sentence, his finger shaking as he pointed at the seven giant stone statues that now stood frozen.
Frozen.
Still.
Motionless.
Silent.
As if they had just died a second time.
The villagers still gathered around the village square began to panic. A mother held her child tighter, her body trembling violently inside her house. Several other women clasped each other's hands, their lips trembling, tears streaming silently. Children who had been put to sleep inside their homes began to cry—their voices audible from behind the tightly shut wooden windows.
"No... this can't be..."
"The golems... have stopped..."
"We're... going to die..."
Panicked whispers spread like wildfire in the dry season.
Cedric gritted his teeth. His jaw hardened so tightly that the muscles in his cheeks tensed. Both hands gripping the wooden railing clenched so hard that small splinters began to scatter between his fingers.
Down below, in front of the gate, the monsters kept approaching the village.
Cedric knew.
He had to do something.
Not because he was brave.
Not because he was sure he could win.
But because if he didn't act now—the villagers' morale would shatter. And when morale shatters, panic takes over. And when panic takes over—
Eldwyn would fall before the monsters even reached its gates.
He took a deep breath.
The night air felt cold in his throat, like swallowing shards of glass.
Then he shouted.
"Citizens of Eldwyn!"
His voice echoed, breaking the silence of the night. Loud. Firm. There was not a trace of doubt in it—even though his chest felt like it was about to explode.
All the villagers fell silent.
Those pale faces turned toward the tower.
Toward him.
Toward the village chief who had stood there all this time, watching, praying, and now—
making a decision.
Cedric turned toward the crowd beginning to swarm in the square. His long cloak fluttered in the night wind, making his silhouette look like a statue atop the tower—fragile, but unbroken.
"All men who can wield a weapon—follow me!"
His shout echoed.
"We will attack them!"
Chaos, of course, ensued.
Several women screamed hysterically. A middle-aged man stepped back, his face pale, his lips trembling. Others exchanged glances, unable to believe what they had just heard.
"V-village chief, have you gone mad?!"
"Fight that many monsters?!"
"We don't stand a chance!"
Cedric didn't flinch.
His hands gripping the wooden railing tightened even further. His knuckles had been white for a long time—they would probably be bruised by morning, if he survived.
"There's no more time!"
"Those savage monsters are getting closer and closer to the village!"
He pointed toward the gate.
Toward the black silhouettes still advancing.
"Are none of you ashamed of the girls who kept singing without rest to keep those golems activated?!"
His voice grew louder.
More fervent.
He turned toward the church, now dark and silent. From there, no more songs could be heard. Only silence—more heartbreaking than any scream.
"They—those who are barely even adults—have sacrificed everything to protect this village!"
He looked at the villagers one by one.
Their fear.
Their despair.
"Their sacrifice—shouldn't we, as their elders, be capable of acting braver than them?!"
Silence.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The night wind blew gently between the wooden houses, carrying dust and ash from the previous explosions. The remaining oil lamps swayed gently, their shadows dancing on the ground like flames refusing to die.
But in the midst of that silence—
a woman interjected.
"Village chief!"
Her voice was loud, cutting through the remaining panic.
Cedric turned.
A middle-aged woman in a dark blue shawl stood at the front of the crowd. Her face wasn't young, but her eyes were sharp. Not with anger—but with restrained panic.
"All the men who can fight—are not in the village!"
She repeated, clarifying.
"Rhett, Darian, Bram, Kael—they all went into the forest to help Harlan search for Cecilia and Lilya!"
A few villagers nodded.
Others looked down.
Because it was true.
The strongest people of Eldwyn—those with combat experience, who had once been adventurers, soldiers, hunters—were in an unreachable place.
They were alone.
Only them.
Cedric paused for a moment.
His jaw hardened.
He had known that.
From the very beginning.
But—
"So?"
His voice was low.
No longer shouting.
Just firm.
"We let our village be destroyed? We let our children—"
GRROOAAARRRHHHH—!!!
A terrifying roar cut through Cedric's sentence.
Not from close by.
But from the direction of the gate.
From behind the monster ranks that began to move faster.
Cedric turned quickly.
His eyes widened.
The three largest silhouettes among all the monsters—stopped.
While the others kept marching toward the gate, their black bodies moving like an unstoppable wave, the three Hell Kongs fell still.
Frozen in place.
Just staring toward the village.
Their glowing red eyes did not blink.
Did not move.
Not like living creatures. But like executioners counting—how many lives would be taken tonight.
"What is this uneasy feeling?" Cedric thought.
His hair stood on end.
Cold crept from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, like an invisible hand touching his heart from within.
His instincts screamed.
This was not a good sign.
Not at all.
But before he could shout a warning—
the three Hell Kongs lifted their heads in unison.
Their mouths gaped wide open.
No sound.
No roars.
Only silence—more terrifying than any explosion.
Above their gaping mouths—
small black dots began to form.
Small.
But dense.
Like tiny holes in the darkness.
Cedric stared, his breath caught in his throat.
Those black dots slowly grew larger.
Larger and larger.
Until they were the size of cannonballs.
But not ordinary cannonballs.
Magic cannonballs.
[Burst Cannon]
A dark aura pulsed on their surfaces, vibrating, snarling—as if living creatures were being forced to crawl out of the darkness.
"Damn it! Everyone—"
Cedric's shout was swallowed.
Along with the sound of the [Burst Cannon] projectiles launching.
Not one.
But three.
Simultaneously.
From three different directions.
From the three Hell Kongs that had silently prepared themselves behind the monster ranks.
Cedric had no time to shout again.
No time to take cover.
No time to close his eyes.
Because it all happened too fast.
The sharp hiss of air—like thousands of snakes hissing in unison.
Then—
BOOOOMMMMM—!!!
Not an explosion.
But a piercing.
The black cannonballs did not detonate on the surface.
They penetrated.
Straight.
Precise.
Gaping holes appeared in the chests of the three bear golems that had been standing frozen. The giant stone bodies had no chance to dodge. No chance to defend. They only stood still—receiving the attack that destroyed them from within.
Pierced through.
The holes did not stop at the golems' bodies.
They kept going.
Piercing through the ancient stone walls that had stood for thousands of years.
Walls that had protected the village.
Walls that had never fallen, even as storms and time had eroded them.
Now—
they crumbled.
BOOOOMMMMM—!!!
The ground shook violently.
The tremor was so strong that Cedric nearly fell from the tower. Both his legs wobbled, his knees went weak, and he had to cling to the wooden railing with all his strength to keep from collapsing.
Beside him, the two guards standing with him fell to their knees.
One tumbled backward, his head nearly hitting a wooden post.
The other crawled across the tower floor, trying to find something to hold onto, his face pale.
Dust.
Thick.
Filled everything.
Cedric closed his eyes.
Not from fear.
But because the thick dust stung, pierced, made his eyelids feel like they were being ground with sand.
He coughed.
Once.
Twice.
His lungs felt full.
The air felt heavy and hot and dusty—as if he were inhaling the ashes of a thousand cremated corpses at once.
He didn't know how long he stood there.
Maybe seconds.
Maybe a minute.
Maybe forever.
The tremors began to subside.
Slowly.
The dust began to thin.
Swaying gently in the night wind, like a thick fog reluctant to leave.
And when Cedric could finally open his eyes—
he froze.
Ruins.
The stone walls that had been Eldwyn's last bastion for thousands of years—now destroyed.
Large boulders scattered on the ground.
Debris flying everywhere.
Some sections still stood, but cracked, tilted, ready to collapse at any moment.
And worse—
more cruel—
near the ruins, several villagers who had been standing too close to the wall when the attack struck—now lay scattered.
Crushed by stone.
Buried under debris.
Blood splattered everywhere.
On the ground.
On the stones.
On the faces of those still trying to get up, crawling, crying—but unable to.
Some did not move at all.
Cedric couldn't count how many.
His vision blurred.
Not from the dust.
But from the tears that suddenly appeared without permission.
Down below, a mother ran toward a pile of rubble.
She screamed.
A single name.
Her child's name.
Cedric didn't hear that name.
What he heard was a shattered voice—the voice of a mother whose world had collapsed in an instant.
He gritted his teeth.
His hands, still gripping the wooden railing, trembled violently.
That tremor spread throughout his body—from his fingertips to his ribs, to his heart, which felt like it was being forcibly squeezed.
"Oh... Goddess... Celestia..."
His eyes were wet.
But the tears did not fall.
As if his own body still couldn't believe this was real.
"...if this is a nightmare..."
His breath caught in his throat.
He swallowed.
Bitter.
"...please... wake us up soon..."
His fingers grasped the empty air.
Reaching for something.
A goddess.
Hope.
A dream that would end.
"...because this is... too cruel... to be real."