Threads of Crimson and Gold

The first rays of dawn struggled to break through the oppressive crimson sky, their light swallowed by the eerie glow that cloaked the camp. The beast tide surged forward with unrelenting ferocity, their snarls and howls echoing across the battlefield. The ground beneath the soldiers' feet trembled with each strike as creatures threw themselves against the shimmering mana barrier, testing its resilience.

The barrier held, its glowing runes pulsing with each impact, but it was no longer as steadfast as it had been in the early hours. The mana stones powering the formation had begun to wane, their light dimming as they drained rapidly to maintain the barrier's integrity. With each strike, the barrier's healing process grew slower, leaving fleeting but dangerous gaps in its defense.

The two-headed devil stood atop its rocky perch, a cruel smirk spreading across both faces as it observed the battle below. The left head, its voice soft and mocking, sneered, "Look at them scramble. Their precious barrier weakens."

The right head chuckled, its tone deeper and filled with dark satisfaction. "And now the gaps appear. Send the smaller ones through—sharp teeth, quick claws. Let them bleed for every inch."

From the forest's edge, smaller but more agile beasts slipped through the momentary fractures in the barrier. Saber-wolves with glowing eyes, venomous lizards the size of hounds, and agile shadow beasts darted into the camp, their movements swift and deadly. Each creature was a precise instrument of chaos, targeting soldiers and equipment with unnerving intelligence.

In the northern quadrant of the camp, Micheal crouched behind a barricade, his knuckles white as he gripped his spear. Around him, the clash of steel and the hum of mana weapons filled the air. Soldiers from Armond's vanguard clashed with the intruding beasts, their movements swift and brutal.

"Micheal! Incoming!" Claude's sharp voice rang out over the din.

Micheal barely had time to react before a saber-wolf lunged at him, its jaws snapping inches from his face. With a desperate thrust, he drove his spear into its chest, the force of the blow knocking him backward as the creature dissolved into wisps of mana.

"Thanks!" Micheal shouted breathlessly as Claude appeared beside him, his sword gleaming with fresh blood.

Claude smirked, his sharp hazel eyes darting to another approaching beast. "Don't thank me yet, Prince. We're just getting started."

Nearby, Garrick swung his massive axe with devastating precision, cleaving through a pair of shadow beasts that had slipped through the barrier. His gruff voice carried over the chaos as he barked orders to the recruits around him. "Hold the line! Don't let them through to the formations!"

At the central glyphs, Magda and Edran worked tirelessly to stabilize the barrier. The mana stones embedded in the formations glowed weakly, their once-brilliant light now flickering like dying embers. Magda's crimson eyes narrowed as she recalibrated the glyphs, her hands moving with practiced precision.

"The stones won't last much longer," Edran said grimly, his voice strained from exertion. "We need more."

Magda shook her head, her jaw set in determination. "We're already sacrificing more than planned. If we don't hold the line here, the camp will fall."

She adjusted the encryption patterns on the runes, her mana flowing into the glyphs in controlled bursts. The formations flared brightly, their light momentarily pushing back the tide, but it was a temporary reprieve.

Edran glanced at her, his expression a mix of admiration and concern. "If we keep draining at this rate, we'll have nothing left for the night."

Magda didn't answer immediately, her focus locked on the glyphs. Finally, she said quietly, "Better to burn out than let them breach."

As the battle raged on, Micheal found himself moving instinctively, his earlier nerves replaced by a fierce determination. Breeze darted at his heels, barking sharply whenever a beast drew too close. Despite the chaos, Micheal couldn't help but feel a strange clarity, his mind honing in on each threat as it came.

A venomous lizard slithered toward him, its fangs dripping with a glowing green liquid. Micheal sidestepped its lunge, driving his spear down into its back with a satisfying crunch. He barely had time to catch his breath before another creature—a shadow beast with sleek, black fur and glowing red eyes—emerged from the fray.

"Behind you!" Claude shouted, throwing a dagger with deadly precision. The blade embedded itself in the beast's neck, and it collapsed in a heap.

Micheal turned to Claude, his chest heaving. "I owe you."

Claude grinned, his fox-like ears twitching as he wiped his blade clean. "You're keeping count? That's dangerous, Prince."

Near the southern perimeter, the gaps in the barrier grew more frequent, each one allowing another wave of creatures into the camp. Soldiers fought valiantly to contain the breaches, their shouts and cries a testament to their resolve.

From his perch, the two-headed devil watched with cruel delight. The left head tilted slightly, its voice a low murmur. "They fight well, but even the strongest will break eventually."

The right head chuckled darkly. "Let them tire themselves. By nightfall, the real tide will begin."

Despite the mounting odds, the camp held. The combined efforts of Armond's vanguard and Shelb's long-range fighters kept the tide at bay, their coordinated attacks a testament to their training and discipline.

Micheal glanced toward the central glyphs, where Magda stood like a pillar of resolve amidst the chaos. Her presence, unwavering and determined, filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

"We'll hold this," he muttered to himself, gripping his spear tightly. "We have to."

As another wave of beasts slammed into the barrier, its light flickered dangerously low. The soldiers braced themselves, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and determination. For now, the camp stood firm.

But the crimson sky above seemed to pulse with malevolent intent, a silent reminder that the worst was yet to come.

The battlefield soon turned to chaos incarnate—crimson skies pulsed overhead, the ground quaked beneath the clash of steel, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of blood and mana. Micheal's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted through the carnage, his heart hammering in his chest. Around him, the relentless tide of beasts swarmed, their snarls and roars blending into a deafening cacophony.

Separated from Claude, Garrick, and the rest of the Rowdy Barracks, Micheal found himself alone near the weakened southern barrier. His spear had been lodged in the skull of a venomous lizard moments before, leaving him armed only with the salvaged, splintered remains of a broken spear he had picked up from a fallen soldier.

Suddenly, a guttural roar tore through the chaos, freezing Micheal in his tracks. Emerging from the shadowed treeline was a hulking yellow troll, its glowing eyes locked onto him with predatory intent. Its massive fists, crackling faintly with energy, slammed into the ground as it advanced, each step making the earth tremble.

Micheal's mouth went dry as he instinctively raised the broken spear in defense. Yellow trolls were notoriously intelligent compared to their green-skinned kin. They followed no master blindly and often acted as independent commanders within beast tides. This one had clearly found the weak spot in the barrier and slipped through while the camp struggled to repair it.

"Stay calm," Micheal muttered to himself, though his hands trembled. "Just stay calm."

The troll snarled, baring jagged teeth as it lunged. Micheal dodged clumsily, his armor's modified aura-threaded joints saving him from a crushing blow. He tried to counter, but the broken spear skidded harmlessly off the troll's thick, hide-like skin. The troll's laughter rumbled, a deep, mocking sound that sent chills down his spine.

The next few moments were a blur of desperate defense. Micheal ducked, rolled, and scrambled, each movement growing more sluggish as exhaustion set in. His man-bra and customized armor absorbed some of the impacts, but it wasn't enough. A glancing blow from the troll's fist sent him sprawling to the ground, his head ringing and vision swimming.

Flat on his back, Micheal stared up at the blood-red sky, the sounds of battle fading to a distant hum. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, the weight of his own mortality crushing him.

"This is it," he thought bitterly. "This is how I die. Not at home. Not with my family. Not even near Magda…"

Images of the Shelb estate flooded his mind—the warm sun filtering through the garden trellis, the scent of tea wafting through the veranda, Adrian's endless antics, Ethan's confident smirk, his mother's concern. He saw Magda, her crimson eyes soft as she laughed at something he'd said, her black hair catching the light.

"I should have spent more time with her," he thought, regret searing through him. "I should've—"

The troll's shadow loomed over him, blocking out the sky. Micheal squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the end.

A fierce, defiant howl shattered the air.

Micheal's eyes snapped open just in time to see Breeze—a small, seemingly insignificant wind-dog—throw itself between him and the towering troll. The pup's fur bristled as it growled, its diminutive frame trembling with determination.

"Breeze, no!" Micheal croaked, his voice raw with desperation.

The troll hesitated for a moment, bemused by the audacity of the tiny creature. Then it raised its massive, glowing fists, ready to swat Breeze aside like an insect.

Before the blow could land, a blinding surge of energy erupted from Breeze's body. The air around them crackled with electricity as a swirling vortex of mana enveloped the wind-dog, its howls of defiance morphing into something primal and powerful.

Micheal shielded his eyes, the sheer force of the transformation sending shockwaves through the battlefield. When the light subsided, Breeze was no longer a frail wind-dog. Standing in its place was a majestic thunder elemental wolf, its sleek fur crackling with arcs of electricity that danced along its massive frame. The wolf's intelligent eyes gleamed with a fierce light as it turned to face the troll, its growls deep and resonant.

The troll hesitated, its predatory confidence faltering for the first time. With a thunderous roar, Breeze lunged, its movements swift and precise. Lightning crackled as the wolf's fangs sank into the troll's arm, the beast howling in pain as arcs of electricity surged through its body.

Micheal scrambled to his feet, his shock giving way to exhilaration as he watched Breeze drive the troll back. With one final surge, the wolf sent the hulking beast crashing through the barrier, its massive body landing in the enemy's ranks beyond.

Micheal stared at Breeze, his chest heaving as he tried to process what had just happened. The wolf turned to him, its piercing gaze softening as it approached. Despite its newfound size and power, Breeze lowered its massive head, nuzzling Micheal's shoulder gently.

"You… you saved me," Micheal whispered, his voice trembling with gratitude. "You're incredible."

He rested his hand on Breeze's crackling fur, feeling the warm hum of electricity beneath his fingers. For the first time since the battle began, hope surged in his chest. Breeze nudge him to its back, indicating to Micheal to mount it.

As Micheal climbed onto Breeze's back, the wolf's massive frame easily supporting his weight, he realized the depth of their bond. This transformation—this evolution—could have been triggered by multiple possible factors, such as the mana stones that he fed him or the high-level beasts Breeze had scavenged earlier, but what stood out was the unshakable connection they shared.

Elemental wolves were rare and revered, their origins shrouded in mystery. For centuries, scholars had assumed they were born from dense mana concentrations, never suspecting that humble wind-dogs could be their true forms.

"Guess you're not just a scavenger anymore," Micheal murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You're a force of nature."

Breeze let out a soft growl, as if in agreement, before bounding into the fray. Together, they moved through the battlefield, Micheal aiding injured soldiers and repairing barricades while Breeze's electrifying presence kept the beasts at bay.

Around the camp, soldiers paused in awe as they caught glimpses of Micheal and Breeze. Whispers spread quickly, their presence becoming a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.

"An elemental wolf," one soldier breathed, his voice tinged with reverence. "That's a sign of fortune."

Claude, spotting Micheal in the distance, let out a low whistle. "Of course, the Merchant Prince has a legendary beast for a mount," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Garrick, his bear-like frame bloodied but unbowed, grinned through the carnage. "That pup always had spirit. Guess it runs in the family."

As the day wore on, Micheal and Breeze became an inseparable force, their movements synchronized as though they shared a single mind. For Micheal, the battle had become more than survival—it was about proving to himself, and to those around him, that even in the face of overwhelming odds, courage and connection could turn the tide.

And with Breeze by his side, he knew they would endure.