Bretayal
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Harbinger froze. The whirling of its maw slowed slightly, its red optics adjusting to track the new anomaly before it.
Leonhardt Vale’s breath came in ragged gasps. His silver and navy armor—once pristine—was now marred with streaks of dirt, blood, and scorch marks. The golden phoenix of Eldoria, embzoned on his chest pte, was barely visible beh the grime. His hands trembled, exhaustion weighing heavily on him as he steadied himself against the t metal struct before him. His fingers pressed against its cold, metallic surface. Beh his gauhe texture was unnervingly smooth—like polished steel, yet warm in a way no lifeless golem should be.
The battlefield was silent now, the echoes of age still lingering in the air. Leonhardt could barely keep himself upright. Blood and dust g to his armor, sweat stung his eyes, and his pulse thundered in his skull. But none of that mattered. Not now. Because before him stood this—a thing that had nht to exist in this world. A struct beyond dwarven iy, beyond a golems, beyond the are. It fought like a camity inate.
Yet, despite the destru it had wrought, it did not strike him down. But that did not mean it had spared the others.
Leonhardt’s golden eyes darted across the battlefield, searg for survivors. The golem’s attack—a colossal beam of searing energy, like the breath of an elder dragon—had torn through both mages and knights alike. It had not been a precise strike; it did not o be. The sheer force of it had carved a molten path through the nd, redug stone and steel to sg in an instant. Those caught in its wake… were simply gone.
Leonhardt ched his jaw. “Fuck.”
Only four of Selene’s are schors remaiheir robes were tattered, their faces pale with exhaustion. One of them—an e with bloodied hands—clutched his side, dark, corrupted ichor seeping through his fingers. A demon had torn into him before being sin. The others barely mao stay on their feet, their magic reserves dangerously low.
The knights had endured no less suffering. Nine remaianding. The elite warriors of Eldoria, once paragons of unwavering strength, were now battered figures, swaying as they struggled tain crity. Each of them—knights who had fallen uhe succubus’ spell—now staggered forward, the broken entment leaving their minds clouded and sluggish. Their breaths were uheir vision blurred, and even the weight of their own bodies felt fn, as if they had awoken from a dream too deep to fully escape.
One knight had borhe brunt of the golem’s fury. The sheer force of the bst had hurled him across the battlefield, his armor scorched, the bahat once bore the sigil of Eldoria reduced to a sm ruin. He y motionless, his chest barely rising, and for a terrible moment, Leonhardt feared he had lost ahen—faint movement. Alive, but barely.
Leonhardt exhaled sharply, fists g. No, the golem had not struck him down. But it had still taken much from him.
And then there was Vaelith.
The elven Sylvan warden ander y motionless, his breath shallow. His emerald and silver armor—desigo blend with the forest—was now stained with his own blood. A jagged wound marred his back, a deep stab just below his shoulder bde. But it wasn’t the wound that was killing him. It was the poison. Demon venom, ied through the bde of a succubus, reading through his veins like wildfire. His silver eyes were dull, his body twitg slightly as he struggled against the creeping paralysis.
Selene k beside him. Her silver hair, usually as pristine as moonlight, hung in disarray, tangled and damp with sweat. Her sapphire robe, once resple with a runes, was now dirt-streaked and ging to her trembling frame. Blood traced a faint path from her nose, her fanaturally pale, drained from exertied breaths escaped her lips as she pressed shaking hands against the wound, a faint, flickering glow f beh her palms while she still whispered intations, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes, once filled with determination, had also been dulled—whether from exhaustion or the unbearable weight of everything she had withe battlefield blurred around her. Her wyvern—her beloved panion—was dead. Elias and the are schor’s brutal death, repyed in her mind, a siing echo she couldn’t silence.
She no longer cared—not about the succubus being dragged toward the golem’s maw, nor the age unfolding around her. Her body was failing, her mind unraveling, caught betweeion and the relentless horrors of the day. Whether it was the toll of mana exhaustion or the numbing grip of trauma, she couldn’t tell anymore. All that mattered was Vaelith, pale beh her trembling hands.
She had lost too much already. She wouldn’t lose him too—not after watg him suffer. Even if they had only known each other for hours, she refused to let him bee just another name among the dead.
But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much she poured into him, the wounds refused to heal. The poison was demoni nature—are magic could stabilize his body, but it couldn’t purge it. He needed something sacred. Something like holy magic. But there was none here.
And that was his failure.
How could he have fotten? He had prepared for everything—scouts to navigate, schors to analyze, knights to protect. But no cleric. He should have knower. Should have expected this. And now Vaelith aying the price. And he wouldn’t st much longer.
Leonhardt exhaled sharply, then turned his gaze back to the golem.
“You hear me, ’t you?” His voice was hoarse, strained. “You’re not some mindless golem. I know you uand something.”
Harbinger remaiterly motionless, watg.
“Listen!” Leonhardt pressed harder against the etal, willing it to respond. “We need help! Vaelith—the Warden—he’s been poisoned. We don’t have time!”
Nothing. No response.
Leonhardt’s gut twisted. The mae’s eyes—those eerie, glowing optics—remained fixed on him, unblinking. But there was ion. No twitch of uanding. It didn’t uand him.
"Shit"
Leonhardt inhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his o stave off the pounding headache building behind his eyes. He should’ve realized soohis thing—whatever it was—wasn’t from this world. Why would it know their nguage?
Fine. If words wouldn’t work, he’d make it uand another way.
Slowly, he stepped back, then raised both hands, palms open. He moved carefully, deliberately, ensuring the thing could see every motion. Then, with slow precision, he poio Vaelith. He mimicked someone falling—his fingers curling into a limp shape, his other hand shaking slightly, imitating a weakeate. Then, he moved his hands outward, gesturing in an unmistakable plea.
Help us.
Harbinger’s optics flickered. It processed the human’s motions. Gestural unicatioed.
> Input: aniit exhibiting physiological distress. textual analysis: Human requires external assistance. A evaluation…
For a long moment, it did nothing. Then—
Click. Click.
Two partments on Harbinger’s thoracic pting slid open. From within, two spherical drones emerged, their hover systems flickering to life as they lifted into the air.
Leonhardt tensed as the strange maes—small, metallid eerily smooth—whirred toward them. Their outer shells rotated at high velocity, emitting a low hum. Tiny red sensors flickered to life, sing the area with razor-sharp precision. They were… anolem? But they were something else entirely.
Leonhardt barely had time to react before one of the spheres hovered over Vaelith’s limp form, its core pulsing softly. Then—a thin, trated ray of sonar-pulse energy rippled outward. The pulses washed over Vaelith’s body, iing with his bloodstream at a microscopic level. The drug c through his veins, The energy waves tore through the fn substaneutralizing toxins, breaking down impurities, stabilizing his vitals and closing wounds.
Vaelith’s breathing, once shallow and weak, began to steady.
The sed drone moved toward the others, sing the remaining Knights and Are Schors. It emitted another pulse—ohat accelerated cellur regeion, mending torn muscle and sealing wounds as if weeks had passed in mere moments.
Leonhardt watched, utterly speechless. For a long moment, all he could do was stand there, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what he had just withis thing—this t metal golem—had just undone what should have been a slow, agonizih. With just… teology beyond prehension.
Before he think more, he noticed Selene. Despite the visible relief in her expressioe the fact that Vaelith’s wounds had closed, she was still doing it—still eling her magic, p what little remained of her energy into Vaelith. She was running on sheer instinow, too draio realize she didn’t o anymore.
“Enough,” Leonhardt muttered, moving to her side.
She barely reacted when he reached out, gently gripping her wrist to stop the flow of magic. Her breathing was unsteady, her body swaying slightly—she had already pushed herself far past her limit.
“Selene.” His voice softened. “It’s done. He’s stable. You don’t have to—”
Her knees buckled.
Leonhardt caught her before she could hit the ground. With a sigh, he shifted, adjusting his grip before lifting her with practiced ease. She was lighter than she should have been—too much time spent exhausting herself, too little time taking care of her own damn needs.
Selene murmured something i against his shoulder, tooo resist.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, adjusting his hold as he carried her. “Just sleep, you stubborn fool.”
She was out before he even fihe sentence, her exhausted body finally giving in.
A, despite everything—the result was the same. The creature they had feared, the golem that had reduced aire battlefield to ruin, was now the very thing keeping them alive.
A dry, almost amused chuckle broke the silence, cutting through the weight of that realization. It was weak, breathless, yet dripping with mockery.
Leonhardt turned his gaze toward the source. The succubus—the st surviving enemy on this bloodied battlefield—was still pinned where Harbinger had caught her. The golem’s strange, meical limb had impaled her midse, holding her aloft like a skewered i. Dark ichor dripped from the wound, yet despite her state, she ughed.
“Ah… hah… hah… Unbelievable,” she rasped, crimson lips curling into a sharp, cruel grin. “Did you just five it?”
Leonhardt’s eyes narrowed.
The succubus’ grin widened, sensing his rea. “This thing—this monstrosity—just annihited your knights. Your people. Your rades.” She tilted her head, voice ced with mog disbelief. “A here you are, thanking it?”
Leonhardt exhaled slowly.
“I didn’t five it,” he said evenly. “I aowledged reality.”
The succubus blinked, caught off guard by the answer.
Leonhardt’s golden eyes remaieady.
“It’s a on—built for war. You see it in how it moves, how it fights. Precise. Effit. Every a calcuted. That’s not something mindless.” He exhaled. “A, it didn’t kill us when it could have. It only struck those who attacked first. That means it chooses. And if it chooses not to be our enemy, I won’t waste that ce.”
He g the fallen, at the destru left in Harbinger’s wake. His jaw tightened, but his voice remained firm. “It’s not about fiveness. It’s abnizing what is. If I let hatred blind me, if I waste my breath cursing something beyond my trol, I lose. We lose. But if I use what’s in front of me—then at least…” He adjusted his grip on Selene’s unscious form. “…At least I’ll live.”
The succubus’ grin faltered. Just slightly. A shadow flickered across her expression, somethiween realization and irritation. She had expected rage, blind fury. Not this.
Leonhardt smirked. “Ah, silence. Ued.”
The succubus clicked her tourning her face away. “Tch.”
But Leonhardt wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice l into something sharp, pressing. “Now, tell me. How did you know it would be here?”
The succubus stiffened. Her nails dug into her palms, torween survival instincts and the crushiainty of death. She was dying—she khat. Even with a demon’s resiliehe wound was too severe. And soon, the golem would devour her. And so… what did it matter?
She let out a slow, pained exhale, then smirked weakly. “Because we were watg.”
Leonhardt frowned, realizing that Vaelith had been right.
“Your so-called scout,” she purred, though her voice was weak. “The one you thought was just part of your own squad…? They were never human.” Her eyes gleamed despite the blood on her lips. “They were all Heralds.”
Leonhardt’s fiwitched.
The succubus chuckled again, enjoying the realization dawning in his expression. “You humans. You think your eyes see everything. That your little patrols, your little guards, are enough.” Her lips curled. “Expecially Silverwood That sacred, protected forest of the elves? Their watchers, hidden irees, believing themselves untouchable?” She leaned in slightly, whispering, “We killed them.”
Leonhardt felt his breath still.
“They never saw it ing,” the succubus tinued, reveling in the moment. “A bde in the dark. A throat slit before they could raise an arm. Silehs, one by oheir protective wards? Useless against us. By the time we moved, there was nothio warn you.” Her grin sharpened. “By the time you realized? It was already too te.”
Leonhardt ched his jaw. The elven watchers were some of the most skilled vanguard ierained feions in silent observation, ambush tactics, and magical dete. A, aire watch had been eradicated without so much as a whisper reag them. Which meant…
“The demons had already infiltrated before we eve foot in this forest,” he murmured.
The succubus let out a weak, breathy hum of satisfa. “Clever,” she murmured, her voice fragile but steady. The blood that had once spilled freely from her lips and stomach had finally slowed.
Leonhardt exhaled through his eadying himself. The battle had ended, but the sequehey were only beginning.
---
> SYSTEM ALERT: Energy reserves critically low.
Current Level: 0.87% – Immediate energy restoration required.
Processing viable biomass sources...
Target Acquired: aniit [Whore] – Status: Terminal Failure
Biomass version Protocol Still Actived.
Harbiood motionless, their optical sensors dimmed as they processed the unfolding sario. The exge between the human ander and the captured aniit—a succubus—held little relevao their primary funs. The vocal exges aures between them registered as insignifit noise, devoid of critical data. From Harbinger’s perspective, their iion was irrelevant to their immediate objectives.
Yet, they reized the purpose of the interrogation. Even without uanding the specifics, they aowledged that extrag information could enhance mission efficy. The human unit sought data, and data could lead to aable outes. Allowing the interrogation to proceed had been the most logical decision.
However, Harbinger’s systems fgged a more pressing : their energy reserves still pretty low.
Now, the captured unit’s vitals were also failing.
Her breathing had growic, her pulse slowing to a near halt. The grievous wound in her abdomen—inflicted by Harbinger’s grappling hook—bled sluggishly. Her biological form roag terminal failure.
Leonhardt flicked his gaze to the succubus, his sharp eyes catg the subtle shift in her demeanor. Her once-mog grin had faded, repced by a thin ft expression. Her crimson lips, now pale and trembling, parted as she struggled to draw breath. She was dying.
For a moment, he hesitated. She was an enemy, a murderer who had reveled in the deaths of his rades. Yet, watg her life gone, he felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. Not pity, exactly, but a grim aowledgment of the fragility of life, even one as vile as hers.
The Harbinger es to mind that the interrogation could no longer yield useful data.
Without hesitation, Harbinger’s meical limbs shed out, their massive grasp enveloping the succubus’s weakened body. Metal closed around flesh with cold, calcuted precision. Leonhardt eyes widened realizing what was happening as he took a half-step forward, his hand instinctively reag out try to stop this inhumane way execution.
“W-wait—” he started, his voice rough but tinged with urgency. But it was too te.
With a seamless, meical motion, Harbihrust the broken, barely alive succubus into their maw.
A grotesque, unnatural sound followed.
Flesh tore. Bones shattered. A wet, siing squelch filled the air as Harbinger’s internal systems began processing the remains. The jagged meisms within their structure worked methodically, disassembling, breaking down, and ing. What had once been a living being—a creature capable of speech, taunts, as—was now reduced to mere biological fuel.
> Biomass ption plete.
Analyzing aniposition...
Primary Tissue: Unknown Hybrid [Unknown Variant]
Energy Yield Efficy: 89.72%
Traces of Alpha 731 Flux detected—Potential Intellegent, requires further study.
> Energy Reserves Replenished.
Current Level: 37.89% – Operational efficy restored.
Initiating system recalibration...
The humans who were unfortunate enough to already be watg could only stare.
One knight took an unscious step back, only able to curse as he muttered, "Fug hell, it eat too?!"
One of the mages, an older schor who had been injured before but was already healed, clutched his book tightly, his breath hitg in disbelief. His wide eyes shimmered with a mix of fear and intrigue, yet his firembled not with terror, but with exhiration.
"This... this is unpreted! A golem that e a living being? Truly remarkable!"
Another schor, younger but no less shaken, recoiled, his body teh barely restrained panic. His breath hitched, his eyes dartiween the monstrous strud their unmoving ander. He ran a shaky hand through his hair before g his fists, his voice crag with fear and anger.
"Heaven…! We’re doomed! Why the hell isn’t ander Leonhardt striking that thing down?!"
The weight of the realization pressed down upon them all.
Harbinger did not aowledge their reas. Fear was an anic response—insignifit to mission parameters. With their energy reserves restored, only efficy remained a priority.
Leonhardt, oher hand, was still thinking about the succubus.
She had been an enemy. A killer. She had boasted of sughter, reveled in the deaths of his allies.
But even then… even this? He knew he wasn’t naive, but he had at least hoped for a better execution than this. Yet as he stared at the se before him, a cold weight settled in his chest.
Leripped Seleighter, his body tense, every muscle coiled, ready to move. His thoughts raced—was this creature going to e them as well? The possibility g him, a primal fear creeping in, but he forced his mind to follow the logic that this being was an ally, not an enemy.
Because for once, he was afraid.
Afraid of what they was truly capable of.
About the cold, unfeeling efficy that made it so terrifying.
Finally, after a long, suffog silence, he let out a sharp breath and turned away.
"Fet that thing for a sed, alright" he muttered, his breath unsteady. But then he ched his fists, f the fear down. His gaze hardened, and his voiapped like a whip.
"Everyone—Focus! Regroup—now! We need a new pn!"
Bretayal
