The ongoing fight had a push and pull, not unlike the ocean tide. The monsters ebbed and flowed, pushing against the line before receding back into the darkness to regroup. There was an intelligence to their actions, one I could feel.

  Like the ticking of a clock, the tapping of a foot. I could almost feel the rhythm of the conflict, the fight we were in. With each clash, my soldiers gained far more worrisome wounds. Being made up of metal and ice, they knew not fatigue nor wariness, but when they fell, it would be for good.

  The bloody moon continued to beam down. Bathing all it could in its crimson glow. The streetlights beamed out. Fighting against the grim light. Offering small spots of salvation, where the world wasn’t dyed red. The paths were all white due to the lighting, and as we fought, I realized how important that was.

  Under the blood moon, the monsters healed at a rapid pace. Flesh knit back together at a visible pace. Their strength and hardiness improved to an absurd degree. The sheer amount of magic in the air made them nigh unkillable. Even my charged bullets had trouble penetrating their flesh when they were entirely bathed in the blood moon’s light.

  The lighting along the paths was our salvation and only refuge. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wander the streets now, not as I was.

  With every pause, I would do what I could. Refilling my supply of ammo, and at one point, even providing what I could to the police. My magic could revitalize, even bolster the soldiers at the forefront a bit. The cold aura that emanated from Cobalt had the same result as well, speeding up their recovery.

  It was the only reason we held on for so long. Inside, Liche and Joan watched us work. Waiting for the call, or for when I truly needed help. On some level, I’m sure they understood that I was best suited for this. Liche had a lot of firepower, but due to her magic’s nature, her actual stamina was lacking. Joan was better, but her healing and protection were better served for later.

  The officer’s, however, proved to be quite a surprise. I had thought them mundane, but they didn’t appear to be. They moved not like police, but like seasoned veterans. No, even that description could do them justice. They moved less like men and women, but more like beasts in the guise of men. Not once had they been hit, nor had they cowered or backed away when a monster had broken through the line. Hell, when one particular monster had broken the line, one of them had charged the beast fearlessly with knife in hand… and won.

  It made me reassess the purgatory police force. It also made me aware, that I should never cross them. There was something about them that seemed off. The way they coordinated with each other, simple glances or motions. Or how their seemingly mundane weapons and bullets tore through these magical beasts and their flesh with startling ease.

  Luckily, I had no plans to go against the police, not now, nor the future. Some of my plans would run close to crossing the line, but without ever crossing it. At least, that was the plan.

  With each rest, we would recover and rest. The police would take a small break inside the building to warm up and check their munitions, which were running low. They didn’t say anything, but it was clear, the sheer number of monsters had unsettled them.

  It was during one such break, my foot tapping to an unseen beat, a rhythm and song that only I could seem to hear, that I realized something. An oddity. My foot tapped… and stopped.

  The music had stopped… No…

  Listening to the silence, my head cocked to the side. It felt familiar. I replayed the movement of the song, from the start to end.

  Typically… a pause, or a sudden stop in the midst of a song or movement means…

  Ah… I barely had time to ready, when they came crashing into the line. All at once, the white light dimmed, only to be replaced by a crimson veil. A blur smashed into Cobalt. Ice scraped against stone. Large gashing claws dug into Cobalt’s frame. I raised my rifle to assist, when a group of blurs smashed through the line and made for me.

  With barely a breath of time, with bayonet already formed, I swung out. The first creature had its forelimb cut off. A twist of my body placed the rifle before another’s swipe. The strength of the blow sent me flying to the side, right into the pathway wall. I felt the ice covering my frame crackle. Dispersing the blow, only just.

  Downed, but not disoriented, I raised my rifle, blocking an overhead swipe. My foot lashed out, smashing into the creature’s face, just as it craned its neck forward to rip into my stomach. Teeth cracked under the blow, chips flew, and its face was pressed in, but… it barely budged. It was too heavy, too strong.

  It pressed into me. Pressing me against the wall, pinning me against it. One claw pressed down from above, another dug into the concrete giving it purchase while it pressed. Its head shifted, dull, empty eyes gazed at me, reflecting my own face back.

  Then… Nothing. The head vanished into nothing. It went slack. With a push of my legs, I pressed it back. Gunfire ripped out, blasting apart the other horrors that had pressed in. Standing above me was Liche, her arm coated in shimmering black.

  “You good Boss?” She asked, offering me her other arm. Not the one covered in magic.

  Without hesitation, I took it.

  “For now, we need to help the others.” I answered back, ice burying any lingering fear.

  “Joan’s already on it.” Liche said, and that she was.

  Joan was like a beacon of light. Her magic pressed against the blood veil, pushing it back. Weakening the horrors in the process. Allowing my surviving soldiers to push back and take charge once more.

  The rank and file were barely recognizable. Their forms mangled and ruined. Still, they pushed on. Their souls shouted and cried out. Burning themselves out, just to hold on for a while longer, to hold the line even as their bodies began to fall apart and fail. Their last cries echoed in my very being. Reverberating, as if demanding that I witness their final moments.

  Only, those cries failed to break through the ice. There was much yet to be done. Though, with one look, I realized that the situation was both not nearly as dire as I thought it had been, whilst being worse in some ways.

  The rank and file were dead men walking. The bronze ranks were holding their own, but just. The knights were assailed on all sides, doing all they could to keep the pressure off Cobalt, as for Cobalt.

  Cobalt had managed to throw off the silver ranked horror. His body was covered in worrying gashes and cuts that oozed blue blood that froze on contact with the air into cerulean pearls that clattered on the stone. His visage, his very presence exuded the air of a knight.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Instantly I understood. Cobalt wanted to handle this on his own.

  One glance at his opponent made it clear that was the right choice. The silver ranked beast was a menace, but not just that. When it opened its mouth in a voiceless scream, the light dimmed, no, it distorted and flowed into its mouth. The wounds on its body would hiss and close, the ice clinging to its flesh would slough off, revealing newly formed flesh.

  The monster was literally feeding off the light. Including Joan’s. The barriers of light she used, even the healing light she shot out, both were devoured by the beast. Though, oddly enough, it seemed weak to the light. A brief moment where Joan bathed it in her magic light, the horror smoked and hissed before fleeing, only to try and eat it the moment it left its gaze.

  All this happened in the beat of a moment. The world was coated in ice, allowing me to take in all in. I exhaled frost, settling my thoughts.

  “Joan, focus on the soldiers at the front. Focus on bolstering them, not healing. Ignore Cobalt and let him handle the silver. Liche, try to pull the horrors off the knights, I’ll focus on covering you…” I look back at the officers. “And you all, keep doing what you’re doing!” I cry out, and one of them sends me a quick salute before continuing to shoot into the teeming mass of bodies being held back by the line.

  With that final command, Liche shot forward. She didn’t bother hiding, according to my instruction. Focusing only on the magic coating her arm. Another horror slipped past the line and hurtled right for her. She didn’t even glance at it, even as it slobbered and clattered on concrete, barreling right for her.

  Without a single extraneous thought, I aimed and shot. The bullet sang a discordant cry just before impact, scattering into numerous shards of ice that punched into, and essentially vaporized the horror’s body. Wet and partially frozen meat slapped onto the ground, all the while, I ejected the spent casing and chambered a new round.

  A few more creatures made for her as she ran, a few more were blasted into nothing. Liche, completely unbothered by those attempting to stop her, was able to quickly close the distance. She aimed not for instant kills, but maiming blows. Deleting limbs where she could, by simply passing her arms through where flesh lies. Allowing the knights to throw off their assailants and finish them. She moved in and out of the fray. Extending her arm out when she could, all the while I did my best to provide support.

  The front held, only just, thanks to Joan and her barriers fortifying the rank and file. Whereas Cobalt and the silver rank shifted and moved with deadly grace.

  Both entities moved with startling intelligence and skill. Cobalt danced and moved, his feet never slowing for a movement as he pressed the horror. All the while, the horror grew more distracted with the turning tide. The horror was simultaneously having to command its troops, all the while Cobalt was entirely focused on the fight in front of him and nothing else. And that made a world of difference.

  As the tide continued to turn, as Liche continued to maim, and the knights killed off those maimed, and as the line continued to hold. A delicate balance was struck and quickly broken.

  A shift in tempo. A new movement in the song, or dance. A rising, thrumming rhythm that found the horrors not only pushed back, but swiftly slaughtered. Sensing the shift, the silver ranked monstrosity attempted to flee but was cut off by the knights barring its path. When what remained of the tide attempted to push forward, to breach the path, they met unyielding ice and metal in the form of my soldiers, who were literally burning their very beings to hold the line.

  Cornered, and without recourse, the silver ranked horror realized, the only way out was through Cobalt, and thus, committed fully. The coordination of the monsters fell away, turning into a frenzied mass of beasts without sense or reason. The few bronze ranks, though stronger, were not any more intelligent than their lesser kin and simply threw themselves into the meat-grinder.

  Their numbers dropped at a prodigious pace, and despite committing, it was far too late for the silver rank, Cobalt had gotten their measure. Cobalt moved and flowed between strikes. Each step moved into another, and the horror followed each step as if they were his second. Each strike Cobalt made left gruesome cuts that did not bleed.

  As the fight continued, the horror was quickly backed into a corner. Their wounds healed slower, their own attempts at eating at the light grew more frantic, and less effective. Whatever reserve of magic they had was likely drained. Desperately, they sought the succor of the blood moon’s light, only to be denied by the knights, and soon enough, its wounds stopped healing.

  Its body stiffened, and when it finally died, it did so with nary a whimper. It fell to the ground with a thunk, its body frozen over, its head, removed from what could be called its shoulder hit the ground with a crackle, and shattered upon the concrete.

  For a moment, there was silence. What remained of the tide receded, leaving behind nothing, but the softly falling snow, and the humming lights above and along the path. Then, once the final note played, the battle ended.

  The rank and file, all of those unranked, fell to the ground, their bodies spent, their souls burnt away. Leaving behind nothing but scraps of metal, and ice. The bronze ranks, for the most part appeared to be whole, but only just.

  They carried grievous wounds and could barely stand as it was. Of the knights, both carried scars and wounds, of which, their shields received the brunt of it. Cobalt however, wasn’t better off. His body was covered in ghastly gouges. A large wound on his chest, as if the horror had dug into it exclusively, just about revealed his core to the world.

  Already, the wound was closing, the ice making his body doing what it could to recover. The new ice would start weak, and only strengthen, even growing stronger than it had been given time.

  Not that they had that time. No sooner had we settled down, did we sense another presence. Figures, shadowy figures appear in the periphery, just outside the light. They eyed us with glittering black eyes, more like gemstones.

  Each held intelligence and curiosity, that formed into a yearning hunger as they looked at the building behind us. In the darkness, their forms glittered. Armor, weapons, made of black stone. Some, most, had a stifling aura around them, but fewer still were ever more threatening.

  Their unranked, could easily beat my soldiers, even at their peak. They could even put up a fight with my bronze ranked, as for their own, I sensed bronze ranks within their numbers, eyeing us up and down. Further back, numerous silver ranks held the line, and even further back, I sensed something else, like a yawning void, a hungering presence. They towered above the others, wearing a crown of bone that shone through the darkness they were wreathed in.

  None of us spoke. The oppression over us prevented that, suffocated us. Even Cobalt found themselves frozen stiff, unable to move under their oppressive presence.

  Seconds ticked by. I could almost hear the subtle sound of a rope fraying, a rope that held a sword above our heads aloft, only just so. Slowly, surely, it swayed to and fro. Taunting us and promising us our inevitable end.

  The king regarded us. A hand was raised, its action all too clear. Their forms tensed…

  A bell tolled. All at once, the bloody moon’s light seemed to dim. Every head turned towards the city central. A powerful gust of wind blew, carrying with it a bevy of falling snow, turning the world into a whorl of white.

  Then the bell rang again, a siren whined out.

  When the snow vanished, so too did the king and his army. Leaving us alone at the foundation of the company building. Each of our hearts hammered, even mine hammered against the ice encasing it, not unlike a prisoner demanding release.

  I let it ease, just enough to feel the panic clawing at my psyche. Liche swore and fell to her knees. Joan, remained silent. Her eyes having not left where the king had been, then there was Cobalt, simmering in anger at himself for having frozen in front of his liege.

  I had no words to offer, no comfort. Instead, I focused on the task at hand. Collecting ourselves, the coins, and preparing for what was to come…

  Hoping, praying, that I wasn’t too over my head…

  As we rested and ate, the bell continued to toll, the siren continued to whine. I wasn’t sure what it signified, but the air had shifted again. The wind blew ever fiercer, signifying and oncoming storm. We had to find shelter inside the building as the temperature continued to dip.

  The white snow quickly drowned out the moon’s crimson light.

  With a frown I looked out, and all the while, the others helped themselves to hot coffee to warm their bones.

  Walking up to me, Liche offered me a cup, but…

  “No thank you.” I stated. “I’d rather keep my edge.” Even as my body demanded warmth and heat.

  “You don’t think it’s over?” Liche asked.

  “Do you?” I asked back.

  “No… If anything, it feels like it has only just begun.” She said with a sigh. With those ominous words, we lapsed into silence and stared out into the storm. Letting it bleach our thoughts white, unwilling to imagine what could be worse than that king we had seen.

  In the end, we knew without a doubt, we would know soon enough… Whether we liked it or not.