After their preparations were complete, Ethan summoned both Nyxfang and Seloria. The massive black wolf padded forward.

Sylvie and Lirael mounted Seloria, settling quickly into their positions, while Ethan swung onto Nyxfang's back to take the lead.

He turned his head slightly. "Sylvie, don't just heal us—heal anyone you can. With that ring boosting your mana regeneration by seventy-five percent, you'll recover faster and you'll even gain extra experience by it. We'll be fine, focus on them."

Sylvie's eyes shone. "Yes, Master! I'll do my best!"

With that, their mounts burst into a sprint, paws and claws hammering against the cobbled streets as the city's outer wards echoed with the dull dong… dong… dong… of alarm bells.

They weren't the only ones heading for the front. Adventurers, mercenaries, and soldiers streamed toward the gates, armor clattering and voices raised in shouts of urgency.

Ethan tilted his head skyward and caught sight of Xarion. The dragonkin's wings spread wide as he soared above, scales catching the light like burning coals. Horns jutted prominently from his brow, and though he wasn't strong enough to assume even an incomplete dragon form yet, his draconic bloodline was unmistakable.

By the time Ethan's party reached the gates, the battle had already erupted in full.

The world beyond the walls was chaos. Monsters of every size and breed surged forward: goblins with jagged weapons, wolves darting in frenzied packs, orcs roaring as they swung their crude clubs. Ogres lumbered, each step shaking the ground, while serpents slithered between combatants, fangs flashing. Boars and bears thundered into the fray, and winged beasts shrieked overhead, diving into the melee with talons outstretched.

From atop the walls, archers loosed volleys of arrows in relentless rhythm while mages rained fireballs and lightning strikes, the explosions illuminating the battlefield in violent flashes.

Xarion suddenly folded his wings and dove, slamming into a cluster of monsters. His claws tore through them like parchment, crimson arcs splattering the ground. Adventurers surged behind him, their blades flashing. When his chest swelled, a torrent of fire burst forth, a searing wave that scorched monsters in a line of about twenty meters long. Screams of burning beasts rose above the din.

His power was devastating.

Ethan dismounted Nyxfang, landing with a heavy thud.

"Nyxfang, be in the perimeter of Lirael and Sylvie. Don't let them get in danger!"

The wolf nodded in agreement.

Ethan surged forward. His blade cut through goblins like paper, severing limbs, splitting torsos, blood spraying hot across his arms. He moved with precision, each step driving deeper into the horde.

Beside him, Lirael's bow thrummed. Each arrow she loosed found its mark—an orc's eye, a wolf's throat, a serpent mid-lunge. Her composure was calm, but her eyes were sharp, tracking targets with deadly focus. Some died in one hit, other took enough damage to be killed by others.

Behind her, Sylvie's staff pulsed with holy light. Wherever she turned, adventurers staggered back to their feet, their wounds knitting closed under her healing spells. But whenever she spotted undeads, she activated her skill.

"[Saintess's Judgement]!"

A column of radiant light speared down, erasing the abominations in a burst of divine purity.

Seloria stood firm, claws rending any beast that dared come near the two of them, her claws whipping out to shatter ribs and crush skulls.

Through it all, Ethan carved forward, his blade drinking deep of monster blood. When distance separated him from his prey, he raised his free hand and hurled a fireball into the horde. It detonated with a thunderous crack, bodies hurled apart by the force, the flames clinging to fur and flesh alike.

The battlefield roared around them—screams, fire, steel, and blood. Yet amidst the chaos, Ethan's presence was unmistakable: a relentless storm cutting down monsters with every strike.

And always, just behind him, his companions stood unyielding, a wall of death and healing.

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he spotted a fresh wave of monsters surging from the treeline.

Time to try something different.

He raised his palm, calling upon the earth itself. The ground rumbled in answer, dust and grit swirling as jagged chunks of stone tore free from the soil. One by one, they floated around him—ten, then twelve, then fifteen slabs of rock. With precise control, Ethan reshaped them into razor-sharp spikes, each glinting under the fire-lit battlefield.

"Spin," he muttered.

The spikes began to rotate, slow at first, then faster and faster until they whirred like a storm of blades, the air humming with their speed. With a sharp gesture, Ethan hurled them forward.

Whssshhhhhh—!

The spinning barrage tore through the monster horde like a drill through flesh. Goblins were impaled in clusters, orcs were skewered and flung aside, ogres reeled as stone lances punched through their hides. The front line of the horde collapsed, bodies crumpling in heaps until the spikes finally lost momentum, buried deep in the blood-soaked soil.

The tide had been cut in half in an instant.

"Whoaaa! Is he a magic swordsman?" One adventurer exclaimed.

Before the monsters could rally, a clear voice rang from behind:

"[Moonflow Volley!]"

Lirael's bow gleamed as a cascade of arrows, formed of flowing water and shimmering with mana, rained down in a lethal storm. The watery bolts tore through the survivors, piercing eyes, throats, and hearts.

Kill notifications flared before Ethan's eyes.

[Ogre Killed] 8000 XP

[Orc Killed] 13,500 XP

[Hobgoblin Killed] 15 XP

[Goblin Killed] 5 XP

[…] 1344 SP

…

..

Ethan dismissed the glowing messages with a flick of his mind, his focus shifting to Lirael. He gave her a sharp nod of acknowledgment.

Their combined assault had carved a gap in the enemy lines. Adventurers seized the opportunity with battle cries, surging through the breach to push deeper toward the forest where the Crack waited.

But the opening was short-lived.

A hulking bear monster lumbered into their path, its muscles bulging, its fanged maw dripping with saliva. With a guttural roar it reared to block the advance, swiping its claws down to crush the first adventurers who dared get close.

"I'll handle it!" Ethan barked, sprinting forward.

His blade flashed as he slid beneath its massive body, carving deep into the tendons of its hind legs. The beast bellowed, stumbling, but before it could recover, Nyxfang lunged. The wolf's clawed paw slammed forward, piercing straight through the bear's left eye.

The monster howled in agony, thrashing wildly, but Ethan was already moving. With a cross-shaped slash, he carved deep into its chest, blood gushing in hot torrents.

"[Ocean Eye!]"

Lirael's voice rang clear as her bowstring snapped. A single arrow, glowing with condensed aqua mana, streaked forward like a lance. It pierced the bear's throat clean through, the impact snapping its spine as the head toppled from its shoulders.

The beast collapsed with a thunderous crash, the ground trembling beneath its bulk.

Ethan straightened, wiping blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes slid toward Lirael, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"If your strength keeps climbing like this, you might actually start resisting me one day."

Her cheeks colored faintly, but she turned her head with a sharp hmph! and loosed another arrow into the fray instead of answering.

"Well done, kid! You carved us a path."

Brad pushed through the press of adventurers, his armor smeared with gore, his eyes burning with battle fervor. Raising his weapon, he roared, "Forward! Push toward the Crack!"

His men answered with a chorus of shouts, and the B-rank adventurers surged ahead, cutting down beasts without pausing to scavenge. The lower-ranked fighters followed, their morale ignited by the sudden momentum.

Ethan turned his gaze upward. Xarion hovered briefly, the firelight gleaming off his scales. The dragonkin gave Ethan a silent nod before banking sharply, diving into a cluster of avian beasts. His wings carved through them, flames spilling from his maw to incinerate anything in his path as he made for the direction of the Crack.

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