Chapter 28: Among the beasts
The room grew colder, with a suffocating silence as the World Power said no word and simply stayed lost in their thoughts, waiting for a response from their men investigating the craters.
In the tired room, the impatient leaders had gotten on their feet—one pacing around restlessly, and another just standing close to the window, staring outside to keep his thoughts busy.
Drakon, on the other hand, folded his hands, running through his opinions and possible solutions in silence.
But soon enough, a call came in. It was directed to the Head of the Military Force—Kodri Vanger.
The man, in his early fifties, ran his hand through his beard before slowly picking up his phone. Seeing who it was, he paused for a second and raised his gaze to scan the entire room.
All eyes were on him, a little discomforting, as he could see the anxiety etched in their demeanors.
"It’s from Team C," Kodri announced, tapping on the screen to accept the call.
And the first thing they heard immediately shattered the atmosphere of the room.
"They’re all dead! It was a trap! The craters are filled with monsters! We need backup!"
Those words were enough to make the entire room heighten with dread and reverence.
Team C was composed of Knights-class awakened.
Immediately, the minds of all the leaders swayed to the grim realization—they had sent a group of awakened, probably to their deaths.
---
Meanwhile, the battle in the crater had begun. The human cohort was surrounded by countless numbers and types of deformities—beings that resembled humans, some that ran on all fours, others holding crude weapons, and some whose bodies were too grotesque and unimaginable to even be considered human.
All these insane monsters bore down on them like a tsunami.
But the fearless cohort were not ones to be messed with. Each of them stood their ground, facing the monsters with immeasurable resolve, striking down every beast that came their way with the weapons at hand.
Drake was one of the men at the frontline, meeting the monsters head-on with fearless swings of his sword, cutting down the enemies before him.
They were many, however—too many. But just like normal low-ranked dungeon beasts, they were weak and easy to overpower.
A humanoid monster, fat and yellow-skinned, rushed toward him, swinging a massive club down at his head.
It was a fast strike, but Drake was far too experienced in battle to let such an attack hit.
Ducking under the club, he narrowly evaded the blow. But the same couldn’t be said for the awakened beside him, as the large club smashed into his skull, taking half of it with it and sending the poor man crashing lifelessly to the ground.
It was a deadly attack—one Drake knew he wouldn’t survive even if grazed. Acting fast, he lunged forward and plunged his blade deep into the monster’s chest before it could strike again, killing it instantly.
As soon as the beast dropped, two more came to replace it.
"Shit! Shit!" Drake grunted, parrying blow after blow and doing his best to match each monster that came his way.
This was a disadvantageous battle from the start, and it was obvious to every awakened present. At first, it was the unexpected number of the horde that overwhelmed them.
But there was another reason Drake found most infuriating—they had no formation, no plan, and were simply fighting a seemingly endless army.
Most of the long-ranged awakened stood behind the tankers who fought the horde, unable to assist effectively thanks to how tightly packed they all were.
Drake could feel the elbows of his colleagues crashing into his sides every now and then; he could feel the long-ranged combatants sometimes push him forward into an oncoming ogre out of sheer panic.
That reckless shove had almost ended his life—if not for his reflexes, he would have been dead. Even so, he came out with his left arm injured and possibly fractured from a brutal impact.
"Damn it!" Drake snarled, staggering back as he blocked another blow from a goblin-like creature. The force of the clash caused him to stumble into one of the long-ranged combatants—the same coward who had pushed him earlier.
This time, before the coward could react, Drake threw a vicious elbow, strong enough to knock the bastard down to his knees, gasping for air.
"Fucking bastard!" Drake hissed, turning back to the horde with the full brunt of his awakened strength.
He could feel himself growing stronger with every fallen enemy; the chime of the system echoed in his head:
{Draconic Body...}
{You have slain another enemy...}
{You have slain another enemy...}
{You have slain another enemy...}
{You have leveled up...}
Still, this was no time to focus on notifications—for even the slightest hesitation surely meant his unruly demise.
Luna was beside him, doing far better than he was. Her ability allowed her to move swiftly through the chaos, striking enemies while evading attacks with grace. Even surrounded by numbers, she managed to lend Drake a hand now and then, saving him from fatal blows.
However, fatigue was beginning to set in. She could feel the backlash of her ability’s overuse creeping up, forcing her to hold back before she rendered herself useless while the battle had barely begun.
This was the cohort’s greatest disadvantage. For one, they had to conserve their abilities to avoid early backlash. And for another, many of their powers endangered their comrades due to how tightly they were clustered together.
Unlike Luna—whose soul-walk ability allowed her to phase in and out freely—others like Tessa, who wielded flame abilities, had to restrain their flames to their dual blades to avoid incinerating allies.
Drake was no exception. He couldn’t summon Kyvern, nor could he use his necromancy—it would only terrify the others and blur the line between friend and foe. Worse, it would drain his intelligence quickly.
So all in all, they were suffering from a lack of proper preparation—a mistake caused by none other than the arrogant Kresha.
Drake continued to block and strike with precision, pushing and elbowing beasts into one another to buy himself brief moments of respite.
A large ogre suddenly charged at him, raising its massive hands to grab him. It was a predictable attack, one Drake anticipated. Raising his sword, he sliced through one of its hands in a single motion—
"Shit?!" he hissed as the creature’s other hand broke through his defense, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him up violently.
Drake braced himself, preparing to drive his sword through the ogre’s throat as soon as it pulled him in to bite off his head gruesomely.
However, things didn’t go as planned.
Instead of being pulled in for a gut-wrenching death, Drake found himself flung high into the air and crashing down onto the corpses of several dead monsters.
He landed hard on his back but rolled quickly to his feet, unwilling to be caught off guard.
’That bastard—’
Raising his head, Drake froze. His heart felt like it had stopped. No beat. No emotion. No reaction.
He was there, on one knee, sword clenched tight, surrounded by nothing but mangled bodies. In front of him was an endless wave of monsters. Behind him, more of the same. And beyond that—only monsters, as far as his eyes could see.
Drake had no idea what had happened or how far he had been flung. But one thing was certain—
He had been separated from the cohort and was now trapped among the beasts.