The battles at the stronghold had grown more intense by the minute.
Catherine, who had been shouldering most of the burden since the beginning, was starting to falter.
Cuts lined her arms, one eye was partially shut from swelling, and her breathing was uneven.
Even for someone as powerful as her, fighting on five different fronts for over an hour was starting to take its toll.
Nearby, several other Awakeners dropped to one knee, panting heavily.
Despite their coordination, carefully timed team skills, and tactical formations, the summoned beasts simply kept coming.
It was like trying to hold back a river with a few sandbags.
The battlefield was littered with corpses of both human and monster.
Blood soaked the dirt, and the air buzzed with heat and fading mana.
A massive lion-shaped beast lunged toward Catherine’s blind spot.
She tried to shift but was a step too slow.
Then, a sound echoed across the field.
It was the sound of footsteps.
Firm, steady, and completely out of place amid the chaos.
Before anyone could even react, a wave of lightning surged out from the source of the sound.
The crackle swept across the battlefield in a wide arc.
But it didn’t touch the Awakeners.
The summoned monsters froze mid-attack, paralyzed in place.
Their bodies twitched, mana circuits overloaded by the sudden shock.
Heads turned toward the border of the stronghold.
Standing there, calm and sharp-eyed, was a woman dressed in a sleeveless white battle coat, her silver hair tied behind her head.
Eleanor.
The Sword Empress, one of humanity’s Four Overlords, had arrived.
She took a slow breath and stepped forward, her hand casually resting on the hilt of her sword.
Somewhere behind her, an Awakener shouted, “Get down!”
Everyone dropped instinctively.
Eleanor drew her sword in one smooth motion.
A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and a moment later, a clean horizontal line seemed to cut across the battlefield.
Dozens of summoned beasts fell in half, their bodies cleaved effortlessly. The silence afterward felt surreal.
Eleanor exhaled and looked across the battlefield.
“Ten minutes,” she called out. “Everyone, rest. Catherine’s grains will be distributed to help with recovery. Use them.”
Several Awakeners nodded, some of them collapsing where they stood. Medical support teams rushed forward to stabilize the wounded.
She didn’t waste time.
“We’ll rotate the frontline squads and keep the barrier strong. Meanwhile, I’ll personally handle the elites.”
Then she turned and pointed at several Awakeners nearby.
“You five, with me. We’re forming a search unit. We’ll locate and eliminate the summoners behind this mess.”
The chosen Awakeners quickly moved into formation, looking both relieved and nervous.
Just before leaving, Eleanor walked over to Catherine, who was now slumped against a crumbled stone wall, wiping blood from her mouth.
“Can you trace them?” Eleanor asked.
Catherine forced herself to her feet.
“It’s not easy. The summoning rituals were done far outside the immediate battle zone. They’ve been moving their positions.”
Eleanor’s gaze hardened.
“What about their main hideout? There has to be a trace to that location if so many nagas moved out.”
Catherine nodded slowly.
“I’ll start scanning again. I’ll send coordinates when I find something.”
“Good. Don’t push yourself too hard,” Eleanor said and turned to join the elite team already preparing to move.
…
Underground, far from the battle, in a sealed cave unknown to humans, Orun kneeled quietly.
The old Naga leader had both hands clasped, head bowed in reverence. Before him lay a creature so massive that the cave was barely able to contain it.
The N’theris Serpent.
Its coiled body stretched endlessly, pale black scales barely visible in the dim bioluminescent glow of the walls. The serpent looked asleep, unmoving except for the slow rhythm of its breath.
Orun continued praying. His whispers were soft and rhythmic, repeating the same words in an ancient dialect over and over.
He had been like this for hours.
Then footsteps echoed behind him.
A young woman entered, her steps echoing across the wet cave floor.
“Still here?” she said, her tone sharp.
Orun glanced up but didn’t respond.
The girl, a few years past her teenage years, folded her arms and frowned.
“You’re wasting time,” she muttered. “While you’re down here begging that overgrown worm to wake up, our people are dying. We should be up there, fighting with the others.”
Orun sighed and looked up at the creature towering over him.
He would’ve scolded her normally, but he no longer had the energy to do so.
“Our God will wake up,” he said quietly. “When the need is great enough, and when our prayers are sincere.”
The girl scoffed. “You’ve been saying that for weeks.”
He turned toward her, his expression weary.
“There is power in belief, Kaela.”
“There’s power in action. You used to know that.”
Kaela clicked her tongue.
Orun’s shoulders tensed.
She didn’t stop.
“Ever since Mother died, you’ve done nothing but kneel in this cave. You think prayers will bring victory? It won’t. Our God— that worm is not listening to anything.”
The words struck deep. Orun flinched, but said nothing.
Kaela turned around, shaking her head.
“I’m going back to the tunnels,” she said. “If any monsters find their way near our shelter, I’ll deal with them.”
“Be careful,” Orun murmured.
“I don’t need to be told that,” she muttered, walking away without another word.
Orun sat in silence again.
The silence deepened.
Above ground, the summoned beasts and human Awakeners continued to fall.
The battlefield reeked of blood and scorched earth.
Spells lit the sky, and the cries of pain and fury filled the air.
Death was piling up on both sides.
And in the cave, the scent of it—the decay, the blood, the overwhelming tide of death—finally drifted in.
Something shifted.
The air around the serpent trembled faintly. Its massive scales rippled once, like a long breath exhaled after a deep sleep.
Orun opened his eyes.
The serpent’s eye flicked open.
A deep, reddish-gold iris stared directly at him.
Its tongue slithered out once, tasting the air.
Orun felt his knees tremble.
“Our God….”
Tear started to fall from his eyes.
“Finally, you’ve come.”
The massive head of the N’theris Serpent rose slowly, bones cracking from years of stillness.
Its awakening sent a subtle but undeniable tremor through the underground chamber.
The serpent’s black tongue flicked out, tasting the stale air, then coiled back.
Its eyes stared straight ahead, dull and unfocused, as if not recognizing anything.
And then it moved.
Orun’s reverence shattered in an instant.
The serpent’s massive tail swung without warning and slammed into him.
He hit the wall hard, ribs cracking as the wind was knocked out of him.
His vision blurred, and his ears rang from the impact.
By the time he pushed himself up, gasping, the serpent had already disappeared into the adjacent tunnel, to the one that led toward the civilian area where the other Nagas were hiding.
“What happened…” he muttered, stumbling forward.
His body ached with every movement, but adrenaline pushed him past the pain.
He limped through the serpentine tunnel, following the faint marks left by their savior.
The deep gashes in the stone, a trail of disturbed dust, the faint scent of blood.
All of it made Orun’s heart tremble.
When he entered the next chamber, the sight froze him.
There were bloodstains everywhere.
Fresh, deep red patches covered the floor.
Bits of flesh and scales were scattered among broken weapons and discarded belongings.
The stench of death made his stomach twist.
Then came the scream.
The sound was feminine, and familiar.
Orun rushed toward the sound and turned a corner.
His eyes widened.
Their savior was there, massive and coiled, and in its grasp—crushed against its body—was his daughter.
She was barely visible under the serpent’s scales, like a child pinned under a collapsing mountain.
Her muscles strained, her hands digging into the serpent’s skin, trying to hold herself upright.
The beast’s mouth was partially open.
Inside, Orun saw severed, and eaten limbs.
“No… no, this can’t be…” Orun whispered, his voice cracking.
He looked around but saw no other Nagas.
All he saw was blood and remnants.
All of nagas had seemingly vanished into thin air.
He staggered back, shaking his head.
“This isn’t real. It’s not… our Savior wouldn’t—”
His voice fell apart.
The serpent turned its head, finally noticing him.
Its eyes held no wisdom, divinity, or intelligence.
It looked at Orun like a starving animal.
Them, it lunged.
Orun barely moved before his daughter screamed, grabbing the serpent’s attention again.
Her hands dug into the serpent’s body.
Blood gushed where her nails pierced through scales.
“You damned fake god!” she shouted, teeth gritted. “Don’t you dare hurt my father!”
The serpent hissed and reared back, clearly agitated by her resistance.
Its massive head dropped again, this time moving toward her face.
It was going to bite her head off.
Orun stood frozen, heart hammering.
His daughter’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
“Father! Snap out of it! This thing isn’t a god. It never was!”
He opened his mouth to respond, but only a whisper came out.
“Stop attacking it… You don’t understand. It’s our god. It’s… what the prophet said…”
The serpent hissed again, wrapping tighter around her. Her bones cracked audibly, and her jaw clenched in pain.
She didn’t cry out.
Instead, she growled, baring her teeth as blood ran down her arms.
“Dammit! If you aren’t going to help, then run away!” she spat.
The serpent’s tongue flicked again as its head hovered above her, ready to end her life.
Then, without warning, everything fell silent.
The air stopped vibrating.
The ground froze.
A flash of light exploded across the chamber for a fraction of second.
The serpent’s head detached cleanly from its body.
A slash mark ran along the walls, floor, and even the ceiling.
It was as though a blade had cut through the entire underground chamber.
Moments later, rubble from above collapsed as the ceiling was split open.
Two figures dropped down.
Eleanor landed first, her boots cracking the stone floor.
Catherine followed, her movements smooth and graceful.
Eleanor surveyed the area, eyes narrowing at the pools of blood and the corpses now spilling from the serpent’s open neck.
She turned Catherine and lowered her voice.
“Retrieve your clones from everywhere except the Sentinel, and Alice and Emily.”
“But Master, what about the rest of the awakeners? We left them behind when we sensed the serpent’s awakening. Those awakeners are still searching for nagas—”
“They’ll hold on their own. Besides, reinforcements should arrive soon. So, do as I say. You’re spreading yourself too thin. If you keep pushing, it’ll become dangerous.”
Catherine hesitated, then nodded.
“Understood.”
Her figure shimmered, transforming into a small, three-tailed fox.
The fox darted away, running along the path they came from.
Eleanor turned to the serpent again.
“As expected.”
Its neck twitched. Muscles writhed.
The headless body grew a new head.
The revived serpent wasted no time.
Its fresh head locked onto Eleanor, and it surged forward like a rampaging bull.
It smashed her cleanly, its snout slamming her into the wall. It didn’t stop, dragging her along the wall, then slamming her upward into the ceiling.
The impact was so violent the ceiling exploded.
Eleanor was thrown out of the underground chamber and into the air.
She hadn’t even started falling back to the ground when the serpent burst out after her.
It leapt through the ruined ceiling and whipped its tail through the air, striking her again mid-flight.
She flew across the sky like a missile, crashing through three buildings in a row before finally stopping.
The serpent finally came out of the underground chamber completely.
It looked around.
Then, the giant serpent wrapped itself around one of the skyscrapers and released a shrill, silent cry.
There was no sound, but the glass shattered across the entire sector.
Windows exploded. Dust filled the air.
The sky darkened under the serpent’s massive body as it reared back, preparing another strike.