"Ahh."
Aster let out a satisfied moan, the steaming meat in his hand already missing a large chunk. His emerald eyes glistened with tears at the side as he felt the mouthwatering flavour dissolve on his tongue. He took several more bites in quick succession, and in less than a minute the meat was gone, replaced by a small bump that made his body look uneven.
He sprawled on the ground, the fire pit still burning by his side. He closed his eyes and thought to himself—
'Mana beasts are sure tasty, after you survive the life-threatening part.'
He chuckled.
It wasn't every day he had the leisure of eating meat, so even if the town was to fall tomorrow, at least he had eaten a good meal to take to the afterlife.
Life didn't have to be too complex, and yet something always threatened its simplicity.
After Aster had gotten back from his small hunt, a leather pouch hung over his shoulder. He noticed the tense mood of the town's people.
The whispers they passed between each other of the impending doom.
Stall owners hurriedly gathered their goods to see if they could make it to the next town before nightfall.
They all knew of the approaching horde, the threat it imposed. But what gnawed at them the most was the uncertainty of when the horde would arrive.
'People always feared the unknown.'
He couldn't blame them.
He continued on his way, armoured figures rushing past him. The streets were full of them—adventurers. Groups of them rushing out of the town with stern expressions on their faces.
He knew that at the moment they were the most tense; the town's survival currently rested on their shoulders.
Most of them would die. If the horde was larger than expected, then most would probably become many. But they couldn't allow the town to fall.
He spotted two large brutes with red hair and a blonde teenager in their middle.
Even Thorne and his lackeys were present.
Aster slipped away quietly; he was sure the greedy madman was still searching for him in all the current chaos. His current destination was Raker's stall—that was, if the sly fox hadn't left the town already.
Aster had to find a way out of the town.
The coins he had weren't enough to hitch a ride. He could already imagine the atrocious prices coming out of the thieving merchant's mouth.
He sighed.
'Today was going to be really long.'
Seated at the desk of a wall-furnished office was a middle-aged man with striking blue eyes. Slight grey hair around his temples contrasted with his dark brown hair and beard. The man was dressed in light garments and had a composed aura around him, one of his fingers continuously giving a light tap on the wooden desk.
A young lady walked into the office, gave a slight bow, and began to speak.
"Guild master, the envoys that were sent to neighbouring town guilds still haven't returned."
The guild master's striking blue eyes grew dark at the news; the forces they currently had wouldn't be enough.
"And?" he asked, his deep, sonorous voice calm and calculating.
"The scouts sent out to determine the horde's size and movement have returned, and the details are quite unsettling, sir."
The lady paused to catch her breath before she continued.
"Several of the approaching mana beasts are Feral Grade, most are Hunter Grade, and a few are of the War Grade."
The guild master's finger, which had been tapping continuously, paused mid-air.
The situation had gone from bad to worse.
Feral Grade mana beasts were the weakest of them, operating purely on their bestial instincts and bloodlust.
Above them were the Hunter Grade, mana beasts that had gained enough intelligence to become a significant threat if an adventurer wasn't careful.
And then…the War Grade mana beasts. Atrocities with enough raw power and sentience to pose a dire threat to an adventuring party. They were smart, calculating, and deadly.
But yet this wasn't their most feared trait.
War Grade mana beasts were capable of leading colonies, each colony depending on the mana beast's strength as a bestial overlord.
Two other classes of mana beasts existed as powerhouses above them, but currently this was what the town was up against, and what the adventurers had to risk their lives facing.
"Have adventurers with an affinity to earth create a trench at the city's front gate. Evacuation of civilians should be routed through the back gate. No one leaves through the front," the guild master instructed.
"Yes, sir," the young lady replied.
"And what of the mayor?" the guild master asked, his striking gaze growing slightly cold.
The young woman shifted slightly, her bearing uneasy under the guild master's coldness. But still, she replied.
"One of our scouts said he saw the mayor leaving the town with an envoy of adventurers."
The guild master leaned back on his wooden chair, his cold gaze growing darker by the second.
'The greedy bastard had left them all to die.'
"Any other news?" he enquired.
"Yes, guild master," the young woman answered before proceeding to speak.
"Sword saint's party has just returned from their latest mission."
The guild master's gaze, which had been cold, became calm and composed once again.
"You may go," he said to the lady.
With a short bow, the lady turned and exited the room.
The guild master, for some reason, had grown calmer.
Sword saint's party was the best the guild had to offer, and with them participating in the upcoming doom—
then maybe, just maybe,
the town had a chance of survival.