The kingdom's response was swift. Brutal.
The moment news of the raids reached human ears, the war machine roared to life. Messengers rode through the night, their hooves pounding against cobbled roads, spreading the alarm from town to town. Within hours, knights were roused, steel was sharpened, and war councils were convened in candlelit chambers.
The monsters had struck first. Now, it was the humans' turn.
⸻
The Humans Counterattack
Lord Reynard stood atop the battlements of the border fortress, his fingers drumming against the pommel of his sword. His expression was carved from stone, unreadable save for the cold glint in his eyes.
"Confirm it again," he ordered, voice like distant thunder.
A scout knelt before him, breathing heavily from the ride. "The supply lines have been attacked. Multiple points. They're targeting our food stores, our weapons, even the horses."
Reynard exhaled through his nose. "And the culprits?"
The scout hesitated. "Monsters, sir. But… they're organized. They strike in coordinated waves. Hit fast, disappear before we can retaliate."
A ripple of unease spread among the gathered knights. Monsters didn't fight like that. Monsters were supposed to be mindless, savage beasts that threw themselves at human walls in a frenzy. Not… this.
Reynard's grip tightened on his hilt. He already knew the answer before he spoke it aloud. "This is Leonhart's doing."
Murmurs of agreement passed through his officers. The infamous warlord. The one who had defied all expectations. The one who had turned the tide of battle before.
"Well," Reynard said, voice cold, "he's about to learn what happens when you anger the kingdom." He turned to his captain. "Send word to Aries. Tell them to mobilize."
A sharp intake of breath followed his words. Aries—the kingdom's elite monster-hunting force.
But Reynard wasn't finished. His voice dropped, steel-hard. "I will lead the army myself."
⸻
Leonhart's Unexpected Move
The news reached Leonhart like the first rumble of an approaching storm. The humans were coming. And they were bringing the full weight of their military might with them.
A lesser warlord might have panicked. Might have called for defenses to be raised, for warriors to stand ready to spill blood.
Leonhart only smiled.
"So they're sending Aries?" he mused, arms crossed. "How ironic."
He had founded that unit. Trained them. He knew exactly how they fought, exactly how they thought. And now they were being sent to hunt him down.
His generals waited for his command. Tension thickened the air, but Leonhart showed no fear.
"Warlord," Varokh rumbled, "do we stand and fight?"
Leonhart tapped a finger against the war table. "No."
Silence. A few confused glances exchanged among the high command.
Sshorak narrowed his reptilian eyes. "You mean to retreat?"
Leonhart tilted his head, amused. "Not retreat. Vanish."
Bruk frowned. "You want us to… disappear?"
Leonhart grinned. "Precisely."
Before any of them could protest, he leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. "We will start to make a tunnel beneath the swamps. A network the humans will never be able to find. We move everything underground. The entire city."
A stunned pause.
Then Drog let out a bark of laughter. "That's insane."
"Insane," Leonhart agreed, "but effective."
Sshorak let out a slow hiss of understanding. "By the time they arrive… they will find nothing."
Leonhart's smirk widened. "Nothing but an empty city."
⸻
2 weeks later, the human army arrived, expecting battle. What they found instead was… nothing.
No warriors. No watchtowers burning. No cries of war.
Only silence.
Reynard rode through the empty streets, frowning. His men followed cautiously, weapons drawn, eyes scanning for an unseen threat.
"Where are they?" a knight murmured, voice uneasy.
Another shook his head. "Did they flee?"
Reynard wasn't convinced. His instincts screamed at him. Leonhart was too smart to simply abandon his stronghold. There was something wrong.
Hours passed. The soldiers searched every building, every alley. But there was no trace of the monsters.
Eventually, as dusk fell, Reynard made his decision.
"We make camp here."
The knights relaxed, armor creaking. The tension in the air slowly faded. Some began setting up tents, others lit fires to cook rations.
That was when the ground beneath them caved in.
A deafening crack split the air. Earth and stone crumbled, and suddenly, the human forces were falling—dozens of men plummeting into the blackness below.
Screams tore through the night as the trap was sprung.
Then, from the depths of the cavernous darkness… red eyes gleamed.
A monstrous roar shattered the night as Leonhart's forces surged from the underground tunnels, claws and steel flashing in the firelight.
The ambush had begun.
Chaos erupted. Knights scrambled to draw swords, only to be cut down by monstrous warriors emerging from the shadows. Orcs barreled into enemy lines, crushing men beneath their axes. Goblins darted between them, daggers flashing at weak points. Lizardmen slithered through the chaos, cutting throats with eerie precision.
Leonhart strode through the battlefield, golden eyes alight with fierce amusement. He moved like a specter, his blade carving through armored men with lethal grace.
Then, amidst the carnage, a familiar voice rang out.
"Face me, beast!"
Leonhart turned, and there he was.
Aldric. The knight who had led the purge against his people. The man whose name was etched into his memories like a wound that refused to heal.
A slow smirk spread across Leonhart's face as he raised his sword.
"Did you miss me?"