Like a tide crashing against a crumbling dam, power surged into Mindy and Cindy—cold, cleansing, unstoppable.
The battlefield vanished. For a heartbeat it feel like time had stopped.
Then comes light.
Mindy's sword burned red. Not just crimson—revolution red, as if forged in the furnace of every defiant scream the world had ever heard. Dragon etchings shimmered along its blade, ancient and alive, their eyes opening for the first time in a thousand years.
Cindy's blade was blue—fluid, elegant, serene as a river and just as unyielding. Her armor formed not with fury, but purpose. Jade laced with bronze, each piece locking into place with the quiet finality of fate fulfilled.
Their feet touched the ground.
The air shifted.
Cindy and Mindy stepped forward..
"Sister, let go. We've got filth to clean up."
"You're too harsh," Mindy murmured, sliding in beside her. "But you're not wrong. Time to take the trash out."
Then came the dance.
Mindy moved first, her blade carving arcs of red across the air like ribbons in the wind. Every swing held precision, not chaos. Her enemies didn't fall—they yielded, as if realizing they had no place before such a flame.
Cindy followed, her blade flowing like a stream in flood season. She stepped between enemies, water dancing around her feet, her strikes echoing with the rhythm of ancient drums. Her blade didn't cut—it flowed through, parting steel and shadow with the grace of tide and time.
[Skill: Twin Currents of Defiance activated]
Two blades, red and blue, weaving patterns no one had seen before—patterns that sang of empires drowned, of voices once silenced rising again.
The battlefield paused. Their allies stared. Not in fear. In awe.
For a moment, the world remembered what heroes looked like.
Mindy spun through her enemies, her blade flickering like firelight on water, never once stopping—never once missing. Her laughter now was not wild, but free.
Now that the space create by Mindy and Cindy had earned Jasmine time to fight back
"Who are you looking ? Your opponent is here" Jasmine smirked
"Don't act so arrogant, b*tch" The scarred man use his gun to shot at her but Jasmine simply tap the word she had prepare in advance
[Miss]
All the bullets avoided her. Angry the scarred man pull out his sword that he been keeping at his waist
Then laughter filled the space.
A child-sized bear in a jester's suit stepped down from nothing, each footfall landing like it was meant to be there since the beginning of time. One half of it was white, soft and plush. The other—jet black, stitched, and grinning.
Verismon's smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with something far more sinister than curiosity.
"There are a few constellations looking over here, and so wherever there is an audience, there is a story to be told," he purred, voice dripping with amusement.
The crimson parchment burned brighter, casting eerie shadows on the terrified faces below.
A distant, monstrous howl shattered the air. It was coming.
The infected.
They were coming—and fast.
Grotesque figures shambled forward, their bodies twisted with blackened veins and protruding bone. Their eyes glowed faintly, mouths stretched open in mindless hunger.
Dozens.
No—hundreds.
The wind shifted, carrying the stench of decay.
The scarred man stumbled back.
"What the hell—"
DING!
A system notification echoed, chilling every survivor to the bone.
[Sub-Stage: Trial of Will]
[Objective: Survive the Horde.]
[Reward: The Pill of Life.]
[Penalty: Total Annihilation.]
[Constellations are looking down Terra-3]
In front of Mindy was a creature that look like it came from hell itself, a skinless, terrifying, disease ridden creature that exalted an aura of infection and decay.
Mindy look at it and saw it name
[The BloodFeaster]
Rank: D+
[A creature that born from infection and eating other infected]
The Cursed Infected Beast's tail whipped toward Cindy with a wet crack. Mindy lunged—
[Skill: 'Sacrificial Block' has been activated!]
[HP: 82% → 17%]
The beast's strike cratered her ribs. She collapsed, tasting iron in her mouth. Her broken bow is a small price to pay but what she is concerned about now is Cindy still standing frozen, sword trembling as she look at Mindy.
"R-run…" Mindy choked.
A laugh slithered into her ear—not the beast's.
[A low-grade constellation 'Lord of Decay' is enjoying the spectacle.]
Struggle to stand up, then Mindy look to her left, the scarred man roared: "HOLD THE LI—"
Thk.
A claw speared his throat. Blood sprayed Cindy's face as he crumpled, his last words gurgling: "I… don't… want…"
[Survivor 'Kael' has died.]
[Survivors remaining: 10/27.]
Cindy screamed. The scarred man's blood pooled around Mindy's fingers. No more tactics. No more lines. Just the wet click-click of infected joints, the stench of rot.
"HELP ME!" A man reached for Mindy—then a jaw clamped his skull. Crunch.
[Survivor 'Jerek' has died.]
The beast loomed, flesh sloughing off its bones. Cindy raised her sword, tears streaking the blood on her cheeks. Hopeless.
[Survivors remaining: 9/27.]
[The constellation 'Lord of Decay' applauds your futility.]
Mindy's vision blurred. This is how it ends? No grand last stand. No meaning. Just—
Boom
[Tilus Has Entered the Battlefield]
A shockwave rippled through the ground. The infected froze mid-lunge, their twisted limbs locked in place as though the world itself had paused. Mindy's breath caught.
Cold.
The temperature plummeted. Black mist coiled around the battlefield like serpents, retreating from a figure walking through the haze.
Tilus.
It wasn't just fear. The air itself warped around Tilus, reality bending under the weight of something older than the apocalypse. Behind him stood a shadow—a faceless entity whose very existence seemed to bend the air around it. The shadow's form flickered and shifted, its faceless visage exuding a suffocating aura that made even the infected hesitate.
[Azazel Fragment: Fabled Realm]
[Aura of Dead] Inflicts [Primordial Terror] on All Non-Allied Entities
The Cursed Beast recoiled, its pustules bursting as it let out a guttural whine. Tilus didn't glance at the survivors. His voice cut through the silence, cold and layered—as if two people spoke at once.
A boot pressed down on the scarred man's corpse. The newcomer stepped forward, his coat untouched by the chaos around him.
"You've done enough," he murmured—not to Mindy, not to the survivors, but to the air itself. His tone was calm, almost dismissive. "I'll take care of the rest."
The beast howled, a piercing cry that sent a shudder through the battlefield.
"Oh my, how scary." He smiled. "But wait your turn, first…"
Tilus moved before Mindy could react. A flash of steel. A body fell.
The infected never had a chance. His blade carved through them with ruthless precision—one step, one strike, another corpse hitting the ground. Their bodies split open, some collapsing mid-lunge, others staggering before crumpling into lifeless heaps. He didn't hesitate. He didn't stop.
He was already turning, already speaking.
"Run," Tilus ordered, flicking the blood from his blade. "To the corner over there. Mortem is waiting. He'll get you out."
Mindy's body screamed for movement, but her mind—her soul—was frozen. She stood caught between the crushing terror of Tilus's presence and the fragile, flickering hope that, somehow, she might survive.
Beside her, Cindy's hand clenched around her wrist. A whisper of urgency.
"Mindy. We need to go."
Tilus didn't look at them. But for a split second—just a fraction of a breath—Mindy thought she saw it. Pain. A flash of something beneath his cold exterior, a crack in the monolithic presence of fear.
This power—this thing that wasn't human—was consuming him.
"I said run."
The command cracked through the air like a gunshot.
This time, they obeyed.
Mindy seized Cindy's arm, dragging her forward as her legs finally remembered how to move. Behind them, the remaining survivors—what few were left—did the same, scrambling toward the ruins, toward anything that resembled safety.
And as she ran, Mindy looked back.
Tilus stood alone in the ruin of the battlefield.
A single figure, bathed in the sickly glow of the system text.
And behind him - A shadow of impenetrable darkness, its form barely distinguishable from the abyss itself.
The infected circled them, but none dared to move. They use that chance to escape. Then the battlefield vanished from sight.
All that remained was the memory of dread.