Apocalypse: Starting With Three Unique Blessings-Chapter 42: The Second Wave.

Vorax returned after some time. The battlefield, once littered with corpses, was now clear. As Vorax appeared before Magnus, it opened its massive mouth, and a small mountain of beast cores tumbled out, cascading onto the ground.

These weren’t just from the fallen beasts of the recent battle. This was the accumulated bounty from Vorax’s relentless hunting sprees throughout the Silent Forest over the past few days.

The surrounding soldiers were instantly captivated by the sheer number of beast cores. The combined aura radiating from them was overwhelming, a tangible pressure that hung heavy in the air.

Magnus smiled, gave Vorax an affectionate pat, and then efficiently stored the mountain of cores within his spatial inventory. Vorax, its task complete, shrunk back to its normal size and coiled comfortably around Magnus’s neck.

Magnus took a moment to relax and catch his breath. His respite was short-lived, however. Kelvin soon approached, interrupting his brief rest.

"What’s the casualty report?" Magnus asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"A few hundred injured, but nothing too serious," Kelvin reported. "They’ll be ready for the next wave after receiving treatment from the healers. As for fatalities..." His voice dropped, becoming grave. "We lost three men in the first wave."

"Three?" Magnus muttered, his brows furrowing. This wasn’t good.

While three deaths might not seem like a significant number in the grand scheme of a large-scale battle, this was only the first wave. Subsequent waves were guaranteed to be larger, stronger, and more ferocious. The initial losses were a grim foreshadowing of what was to come.

Kelvin, having delivered his report, departed, leaving Magnus alone with his thoughts.

Magnus pondered the situation for a while, then sighed and tried to return to resting. Death was an unavoidable reality of war. He was only one man, and despite his strength, he couldn’t single-handedly control the entire battlefield. Accidents happened. Death was inevitable. He couldn’t prevent every casualty. With a heavy heart, he could only hope the death toll remained low in the coming waves, even though he knew it was probably wishful thinking.

Three hours passed surprisingly quickly. Soon, the second wave appeared on the horizon, a massive cloud of dust billowing towards Magnus and his troops. The dust cloud generated by this wave was even larger than the previous one, a clear sign of the increased size and strength of the approaching horde.

"Advance!" Magnus’s war cry echoed across the battlefield, igniting the fighting spirit of his men.

With a roar of determination, the troops surged forward, Magnus, Kelvin, Kael, and Avice leading the charge.

As before, Magnus was the first to engage, his attack immediately followed by the others. The battle was on.

*Baam!*

Magnus’s fist connected with the body of a large beast, sending it staggering backward.

Without hesitation, he leaped into the air and, with a practiced motion, hurled Vorax towards the heart of the beast horde.

Vorax soared through the air, its body expanding rapidly until it landed amidst the teeming mass of creatures, the impact shaking the very ground. It immediately unleashed a deafening roar, a sound filled with primal fury that echoed across the battlefield. The surrounding beasts instinctively recoiled in fear. This was no ordinary beast; this was a Celestial beast, a creature standing at the pinnacle of the animal kingdom.

Their fear, however, was quickly replaced by a frenzied bloodlust, and they charged forward. Vorax met them head-on, its rage fueled by the memory of the injury it had sustained in the previous wave. These creatures would pay for their audacity.

The rest of the battlefield was a scene of intense combat. No one, not even Magnus, had the time to spare a glance at Vorax’s rampage. Everyone was fully occupied with their own desperate struggle for survival. Magnus, for his part, faced a relentless onslaught of beasts surging towards him.

Undaunted, he charged forward to meet them, his sword gripped tightly in his hand. This was just the beginning.

-

Meanwhile, within the safety of the territory walls, Augustus stood amongst the gathered civilians. They had been brought to the center of the territory for protection, their anxious eyes darting towards the sounds of battle echoing from the surrounding walls. They saw plumes of smoke rising from each of the battlefields, each one holding their breath, hoping for the best.

They silently prayed for the safety of the men fighting on the front lines, their wishes for their protection a constant murmur in the air.

Augustus, too, watched with concern, his gaze fixed on the eastern wall, where the sounds of battle were most intense. "Please be safe, Lord Magnus," he whispered under his breath.

-

Back on the battlefield, amidst the chaos and carnage, Magnus received several notifications, messages from those within the territory walls expressing their worry and concern. He quickly muted them, his focus entirely consumed by the battle raging around him.

The battle raged, reaching a fever pitch. Magnus had no time for distractions.

"Help!" A desperate cry suddenly pierced the din of combat.

Magnus turned towards the source of the plea and saw a young man slumped on the ground, desperately clutching his spear.

A jagged bone protruded from the man’s leg, a gruesome testament to a crippling injury. Towering over him, a massive bear-like creature prepared to deliver a fatal blow.

"Damn it!" Magnus cursed, springing into action.

He covered the distance in a blink, closing in on the young man just as the creature’s paw descended. He had to act fast.

Scanning the area for anything that might help, Magnus spotted a discarded shield near the injured soldier, likely dropped during the chaos of the fight.

Without breaking stride, Magnus slid across the ground, snatching the shield as he reached the young man. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, raising the shield over his shoulder, shielding the young man with his own body.

The bear’s paw slammed down with bone-jarring force, connecting with the metal shield instead of its intended target.

The shield, not of the highest quality, buckled under the impact. The creature’s claws pierced through the metal, digging into Magnus’s shoulder, sending a searing jolt of pain through him.

Magnus gritted his teeth, suppressing any outward sign of his agony. With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, he heaved against the shield, pushing upward with all his might.

Caught off guard, the bear-like creature stumbled backward, dazed by the sudden counterforce.

Magnus didn’t give it a chance to recover. He snatched the young man’s spear, hefted it, and hurled it with all his strength.

The creature, still reeling from the shield bash, didn’t see the spear coming. It pierced its chest, driving it backward with such force that it collided with another beast, impaling them both. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Witnessing their demise, Magnus turned to the injured soldier. "Can you walk?" he asked.

Despite the mangled leg, the young man’s other leg seemed unharmed. He nodded.

"Good. Get back to the territory. The healers will take care of you," Magnus said, helping the young man to his feet.

"Thank you, Lord Magnus," the young man said with a grateful bow, his voice filled with reverence.

Magnus nodded in acknowledgment. The young man turned and began hopping towards the safety of the territory walls.

Magnus sighed, turning back to the battlefield.

The fighting had intensified. Casualties were mounting on both sides. He braced himself to rejoin the fray, but just then...

*Screech!*

A piercing cry ripped through the air, drawing Magnus’s attention skyward. His expression darkened.

Dark Clawed Eagles. He recognized them instantly. Large, eagle-like creatures with silver feathers and distinctive, jet-black claws, sharper than any blade. Their wings, tipped with razor-sharp edges, were equally deadly.

’This is bad,’ Magnus thought grimly.

"Everyone, watch out!" he roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield. But it was too late.

One of the Dark Clawed Eagles swooped down with terrifying speed, its target fixed on one of Magnus’s men engaged in close combat, oblivious to the impending danger.

The eagle’s wide wings cast a fleeting shadow as it descended. By the time the soldier registered the threat, it was too late. With a swift, brutal strike, the eagle severed his head, sending a spray of blood across the battlefield.

Magnus watched in grim silence, his jaw clenched. The arrival of the Dark Clawed Eagles had added another layer of danger to an already desperate situation. He knew he had to act quickly to prevent further losses.