“Hand over the Gift of Peace,” the priestess said.

  “Shut your mouth! Two arcane mages and a single prime beast, and you think you’re in a position to make threats? If not for Sable Moon, you’d already be fertilizer by now,” Leonardo replied.

  He tried to calm his breath, counting each inhale and exhale to hold back his anger.

  At the moment, his power was suppressed down to the arcane rank, so facing three opponents of the same level left him no room for even the smallest mistake. His skin hardened into bark, his hair unfurling into leaves and blossoms as his body swelled, towering to three times his former height. The serpent-headed staff in his hand thickened and lengthened, its wooden coils growing heavier, while twin horns pushed from the serpent’s skull, giving it a draconic visage.

  “Oh? Going straight to your grand aspect already? How terrifying, our great druid’s throwing a tantrum,” the fat man snorted.

  “Cut the crap, Nicolas!” Carlios snapped. “End this fast! If Gnomon’s reinforcements find a way to break the seal, none of us is getting out of here in one piece,” Carlios barked.

  “Alright, alright, don’t be so hot-headed.” Nicolas raised both hands to the sky and fanned out his ten fingers.

  “Wake up, my beauty!”

  The headless corpses around the altar lurched upright, crawling over one another into a heaped mound. Then their flesh and bones melted apart and reassembled, knitting themselves into a human-shaped monster as tall as a ten-story building. It took the form of a naked woman with a long, dangling bone tail and arms ending in hooked, razor claws.

  Her massive body rose, stepped out from the rift, and brought a foot down on Echo Hill, the ground trembling under the weight.

  “The corpse servant spell!” Leonardo cursed.

  It wasn’t fear that gripped him, but fury, because this spell belonged to one of the most brutal, bloodthirsty branches of magic, banned long ago. Every corpse bound to it must have gone through the cruelest torture imaginable, their suffering deliberately prolonged before execution, for only such deaths could fuel the spell.

  “As expected of the Origin, if we were in a sandrealm, she wouldn’t be just a modest thing like this. The flesh becomes denser here, the blood is heavier, and even the bones get more stubborn,” the fat man muttered, brows knitting. “Whatever, have a little appetizer, my beauty.”

  The giant monster woman reached out and snatched the two mantises circling Carlios. They struggled hard; their scythe-like forearms sank into her flesh as if trapped in a bog. The corpse servant shoved them into her mouth and chewed with savage relish.

  “Seize the Gift of Peace!” the priestess shouted, rushing at Leonardo, with Carlios and Nicolas followed right behind her.

  The battlefield grew more and more brutal. From the tearing rifts in the sky, swarms of longnight spiders poured out by the tens of thousands, dropping like a living rain across the entire valley. Their bodies slammed into rooftops, streets, and open fields, cracking stone and shattering wood. Screams rang out from every direction as claws scraped against armor and fangs snapped shut. Explosions of magic lit up the night with fire, lightning, vines, and flashes of raw power colliding in chaotic waves.

  But Sicily was not an easy target.

  “Damn it, send reinforcements to the Old Root District, now! If that area collapses, the whole east bank is screwed!”

  “Stop wasting hits on the fucking swarm! Focus on the lead spiders!”

  “Protect the healers at all costs! Anyone who lets a medic go down will have to answer to me personally, move!”

  Under Cindara’s sharp commands, the city’s guard forces split into smaller units and rushed to reinforce every collapsing line. Wasp riders streaked through the air, their mounts screaming as they tore across spider swarms, razor wings slicing through black carapaces. Below them, mages fought in different ways, some summoned enchanted beasts that leapt straight into the enemies, while others focused on healing magic, pulling the wounded back, and sealing torn flesh with glowing vines and blooming herbs.

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  And it wasn’t just the guards anymore.

  The citizens of Sicily shed their gentle expressions and showed the ferocity for which they were famous.

  Groups of centaurs charged forward, wooden spears blazing with green light as they crashed head-on into the spiders. Elves formed ranks of archers, releasing volleys so dense they darkened the air, arrows pinning monsters to the ground before they could even crawl forward. Treefolks burst from the earth, branches sharpening into deadly spikes that skewered spider after spider without mercy. Above them, flower-winged butterflies swept their wings, scattering clouds of glowing pollen that left enemies twitching, paralyzed, or unconscious where they stood.

  From the depths of Lake Nerardeusis, massive moss-covered crabs crawled onto the shore, each one as large as a car. Their enormous claws snapped shut with terrifying force, crushing longnight spiders in half and tossing the broken remains aside as if they weighed nothing.

  Even so, the pressure kept mounting, and the enemy numbers kept increasing.

  “Damn it!” Cindara snarled as she braced herself, fighting against four elder-rank spiders at once. Their massive limbs slammed down again and again, forcing her to dodge and back step by step. Blood ran down her arm, but she didn’t retreat.

  More and more elder-rank longnight spiders emerged from the rifts, over twenty now. Below them, ferocious-rank ones swarmed past three hundred, flooding every defensive line. Slowly and visibly, Sicily began to show signs of strain.

  Leonardo’s situation was no better.

  High above the battlefield, he summoned nine chestnut warriors, towering figures of hardened wood and magic, and sent them charging toward Eclipse Cult’s leaders. The warriors fought fiercely, shielding civilians and forcing the enemy back step by step.

  But Leonardo was not having an easy time. Though he was a grand-rank druid, his magic level was suppressed and surrounded by three enemies of equal rank, all while trying to keep an eye on the chaos unfolding across the city. Every moment of distraction could cost him ground.

  His breathing grew heavier. Sweat soaked into his robes.

  “Still not giving up?” a mocking voice rang out.

  The fat man, Nicolas, laughed out loud as he gestured forward. “Stubborn bastard. But honestly? That just makes this more fun.”

  At his command, the grotesque corpse servant lunged forward, her massive body opening wide. In a single, horrifying motion, she swallowed the last two of Leonardo’s chestnut warriors whole, crushing them into splinters and gore.

  Just as the three leaders of the invaders were about to close on Leonardo, a wall of green fire crashed down from the sky to block their path. A giant owl the size of an elephant, feathers banded in gold and black, landed beside Leonardo.

  “You’re finally here, Oowrie!” Leonardo let out a breath of relief.

  “Sorry for being late, let’s finish them now. We must not let a single one escape.”

  The owl spread her giant wings, and three black cyclones spun up at once, screaming straight toward Carlios’s group.

  “The sacred beast of Golden Wheat Valley finally shows herself, heh heh heh,” Nicolas laughed. “Finishing us? Oh, drop the act please. Under the halo of our Lord, you are just in the same situation as him.”

  I can only hold to the prime rank now. We must delay them until help arrives, Oowrie’s voice sounded in Leonardo’s mind, dragging his heart down with its weight.

  Hard to believe two grand beings like us are getting pressed by these three. I really am getting dull, Leonardo replied.

  Stop with those useless thoughts already! If the Eclipse Cult was easy to handle, they wouldn’t still exist while being hunted down by both Olympus and the Council. Just try to hold on, there’s no way this fucking thing can last for too long!

  Leonardo drew a deep breath, took the orange gem from his priest’s hat, and held it in his fist.

  “Egeiroklesis!”

  The spell made the five stone slabs around the Serene Temple open their eyes, sprout limbs, and rise to their feet, the carved runes across their bodies flaring with an eerie, mystical yellow glow.

  “Five peak prime-rank golems, truly impressive. At normal times, even beating them five would already be a huge problem for us. Worthy of Sicily, a small city like this, yet it holds two grand beings and more than ten prime-rank creatures,” Nicolas commented.

  Leonardo’s magic didn’t stop there. Plants all around the valley and the neighboring mountains woke from stillness. They took shape as towering treants, tens of feet tall, brandishing wooden spears as they marched, steady and relentless, to meet the onrushing sea of Dream Realm monsters.

  Luther and Aaron had also thrown themselves into the battle, lending their strength to the desperate fight. Unlike many others, they were not affected by the bone shard; their rank remained the same. Luther summoned hand after hand of shadow, each one crushing the longnight spiders that dared creep too close. Beside him, Aaron swung his flaming sword to finish one off before shouting over the din:

  “The mission must be stopping those three from taking the Gift of Peace. What do we do now, Mr. Acher?”

  “You two had better use your own heads,” Acher replied with a shrug of his wings. “Compared to that time we pulled you out of Tarisel’s hands, this mission is pure child’s play. I’ll give you just a hint: pay attention to what actually decides this battle.”