Some were uncertain, others angry.
A few warriors glanced toward Orun, as if trying to confirm theyâd heard him right.
He didnât repeat himself.
Instead, he turned to the side as a few veteran warriors stepped forward to receive more direct instructions.
"Weâll strike the stronghold from four directions," he said. "The first group will attack from the west side. Once the humans move to defend it, the other three will strike from the north, east, and south. You donât need to push deep. Just cause chaos, and buy time. Your main objective is the farm at the eastern edge. Thatâs where the farmer will be."
"Should we kill him?" asked one of the younger warriors, her snake-like hair hissed as she tried to suppress the tremors in her voice.
Being suppressed by the human governor wanted her to kill the farmer that the humans treasured.
"No," Orun said. "Hurt him if you must. But do not kill him."
Several warriors glanced at each other.
Orunâs daughter stepped forward before he could finish.
"I will go too."
He turned to face her.
She was barely past her teen years in naga terms.
Her face still held traces of youth. But her eyes had aged too quickly. Orun knew the reason for the cause, and that was why he couldnât allow her to leave with warriors.
"You will stay here," he said simply.
"Iâm not weak. I can fight."
"I know you can. But you wonât be fighting this time."
She clenched her fists.
But she didnât argue again.
He looked to the rest of the gathered warriors.
"You are not to kill civilians. Target the strongholdâs defenders and the farm. Strike, cause fear, and return. Thatâs it."
The warriors grew furious at his command.
Not kill the civilians?
"Why...."
A naga warrior spoke up,
"Why should we not kill them when we finally have a chance!? Theyâve been tormenting us! My brother was killed by that human awakener Vale just because they wanted to instill fear in us!"
Orun looked at the warrior, HâGael.
"HâGael, if we kill the civilians do you really think we will be able to live in this city when that human governor will overtake it? Public opinion will in favor of killing us all if we harm civilians too."
"So what? Weâve already harmed their awakeners! Now, no matter..."
HâGael suddenly closed his mouth.
He looked around and noticed the civilian nagas.
They were still clinging on hope that they could survive.
HâGael couldnât say it in front of them that the human governor was just using them and would kill them later.
Grinding his teeth hard, HâGael turned around to leave.
The others naga warriors followed behind HâGael, who was the next in command after Orun.
Since Orun would stay back at the base, HâGael would lead todayâs assault.
In total, twelve champion-ranked warriors moved through the tunnels, armored and ready.
Though they had not fully recovered from their previous injuries, each of them still held power far beyond that of ordinary awakened humans.
The moment they emerged onto the surface outside the cityâs central sector, they scattered and moved towards the Sanctum of Masters Stronghold.
It stood proud even in the half-ruined cityscape, shielded by a transparent golden dome of light.
HâGael stood to the west of it, hidden behind the remains of a shattered building.
"Is this really worth it?" one of his men asked quietly beside him. "What if humans have more monsters like that Vale?"
"He is an anomaly. Itâs clear he isnât human. Normal human Champion rank awakeners are no match for us, who are mid-rank species. Moreover, according to the spies, only seven human Champion rank awakeners are in that stronghold. Our assault will proceed without issues," HâGael replied.
Even five human Champion rank awakeners would have difficulty winning against a Champion rank awakener of a mid-rank species.
But with Nagas ability to summon contracted beasts, a single naga Champion rank awakener could defeat ten human Champion rank awakeners.
Twelve naga Champions had come to attack.
They had nothing to fear.
As if in agreement, a faint hum echoed as several of the naga warriors called forth their contracted beasts.
Shadowy shapes moved in the ruined streets.
Some were hulking brutes.
Others resembled serpents with wings or wolves made of mist.
They waited for the signal.
Then, just as HâGael was about to raise his handâ
"Leader," a voice buzzed through the communicator.
HâGael frowned. "What is it?"
"Look to the south, towards the wall."
HâGael twisted in place and peered out from behind a crumbling chunk of reinforced concrete.
There, faint at first, was a light fog rolling over the streets. It glided across the cracked pavement in eerie silence, weaving through broken lampposts and rusted vehicles like a living thing.
The mist thickened with each passing second. It wasnât like the polluted dust or natural vapors that sometimes rolled through the city.
No. This was something else.
He stared at it, unblinking.
"Why.... Why is that thing here?" he muttered.
His eyes wouldnât leave the Phantom Voice that was approaching the Master of Sanctum stronghold.
"Did it follow us here to kill those who survived?"
HâGaelâs breath became heavy.
He gulped.
Every day, he would have nightmares of the destruction of that city.
Countless monsters were coming towards them.
His neighbors and fellow warriors were screaming.
The nightmarish wave of monsters continued to kill and eat their victims.
And in those memories, a single monster stood out to HâGael.
Phantom Voice.
The murderer of his family.
A mix of intense fear and fear made HâGael tremble.
The mist was moving faster now as though it had caught a scent. Or like it knew exactly where it needed to go.
Several warriors shifted uneasily, gripping their weapons tighter.
"What do we do, leader?" someone asked.
HâGael didnât answer immediately.
He exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself.
He wanted to do nothing but attack that Phantom Voice, but he didnât let his anger cloud his judgement.
"We will hold our location," he said at last. "Stay hidden. First, we need to know why Phantom Voice is here. If itâs going to attack the stronghold, we will take advantage of the commotion it will create."
"But if it reaches the stronghold, the farmer mightâ"
"Itâs not our problem to handle. If the farmer dies to the monster, thatâs better for us," HâGael snapped, sharper than he meant to.
Then he looked around at their faces.
The younger ones in particular looked unsure, torn between their orders and this unexpected variable.
"We wait," he repeated, calmer this time.
The warriors with him nodded.
"Send someone to scout the stronghold," he added. "We need to know if the farmer is still there."
One of the warriors gave a quick nod and slipped into the darkness without a sound.
The rest of the team stayed in their positions, scanning the area carefully.
HâGaelâs eyes stayed locked on the pale mist rolling slowly toward the stronghold.
In his mind, he couldnât help but wonder if this city would meet the disaster next, and be wiped out by it just like the nagas.
If that was the case, they needed to escape as fast as possible.
âBut Orun and others wouldnât escape.â
âThey trust in the god too much.â
HâGael couldnât help but clench his fist.
That snake was still sleeping.
He couldnât understand why others believed it to be their god.
Why was he not helping them? Because it was just a monster.
Unfortunately, the none of the nagas listened to him when it came to their god.
Suddenly, something shifted.
The air felt heavier.
The younger warriors didnât notice anything.
Some kept chatting softly through comms, some simply stared ahead.
But HâGaelâs instincts screamed.
He frowned and moved closer to the wall beside him.
Without a word, he lightly tapped the wall with his knuckle.
It shattered like glass.
This....
âMirror Dimension.â
Someone had pulled them into mirror dimension while they were not paying attention.
Their ambush had been caught.
"Get ready to fight!" he barked. "Summon your contracted beasts, now!"
There was no hesitation in his command.
The naga warriors immediately sprang into action, their summoning tattoos lighting up their skin in swirling patterns.
Dozens of beastsâranging from scaled hounds to winged reptiles and misty serpentsâemerged from glowing portals around them.
They waited for the attack to come.
Nothing happened.
No enemy charged at them.
Just when they thought the enemy was hiding and buying time, HâGael turned to look outside the building.
He saw the same mist, drifting slowly toward them.
Phantom Voice.
That monster had been pulled into the Mirror Dimension as well.
And now, it had no stronghold to aim for.
So, instead it was attacking the nagas.
"Shit," HâGael muttered under his breath. "Someone set us up."
He glanced toward his warriors, some already bracing for impact. The beasts growled and hissed as the mist thickened.
"Form defensive lines! Donât let it scatter us!"
...
Meanwhile, far from the east side, the southern team sat in silence, huddled near a broken tall hospital building that overlooked the strongholdâs rear defense lines.
The leader of south-side team, a tall naga with red-tinted snake hairs, watched the golden dome through a scope.
He lowered it and tapped his comms device again.
"Team East, respond. HâGael, do you copy?"
Static came back.
He tried once more. The result was the same.
"Still nothing?" one of the younger warriors asked. His voice wasnât panicked, but there was concern beneath it.
"No," the leader said. "Thatâs the fifth try."