Snow fell silently over Moscow.
But beneath the snowfall, the ground trembled.
The Red Square was cracked open, fire and shadow pouring from a rift above the Kremlin. The air stank of sulfur, and screams echoed through the icy streets as civilians fled into the night.
The demons had returned.
---
The Demons of Moscow
Three new monsters stalked the ruins:
Varloch, the Iron Wolf (Low-Rank). A beast of rusted steel, claws that tore like saw blades.
Skill: Rust Fang — spreading corrosion into aura barriers.
Molgra, the Black Tusk (Low-Rank). A mammoth-like demon, its tusks dripping poison.
Skill: Toxic Stampede — shaking the earth with each poisonous step.
Dravor, the Mountain Breaker (Mid-Rank). A titan of jagged stone, towering as high as the Kremlin walls.
Skill: Earthrend — sundering the ground in massive quakes.
The streets split, cobblestones rising like waves. Moscow shuddered under the colossal weight of their combined aura.
---
Dmitri Ivanov – The Mountain of Earth
Through the snowfall, a massive figure walked steadily forward. His aura rippled through the ground itself, calming the tremors as though the land obeyed him.
Dmitri Ivanov.
His eyes were calm, his jaw unshaken. Snow gathered on his broad shoulders, but melted instantly as his aura rose, hot and steady.
"You think to shake my land?" His voice rumbled like thunder beneath the earth.
"Then face the mountain itself."
---
The First Clash
Varloch leapt, claws screeching against the frozen streets.
"Rust Fang!"
The air filled with sparks as the claws slashed against Dmitri's aura barrier, black corrosion spreading. Dmitri raised his fist.
"Stone Fist."
He slammed it into Varloch's skull. The steel wolf crumpled like tin, its body shattering into shards of rust.
Molgra roared, tusks glowing sickly green.
"Toxic Stampede!"
The ground cracked as he charged, poison dripping into the stone. Dmitri braced himself, arms crossing before him.
"Iron Bastion!"
His aura condensed into a wall of rock. Molgra slammed into it, poison splashing harmlessly against stone. With a roar, Dmitri pushed forward, the barrier collapsing into jagged spikes. They pierced Molgra's chest, lifting the massive demon into the air before shattering it into ash.
Two had fallen. But the third remained.
---
The Mountain Breaker
Dravor stepped forward. Each footfall was an earthquake, sending tremors through the Kremlin. His voice was a grinding roar.
"Earthrend!"
The entire square split apart. Buildings toppled, frozen streets cracked open into bottomless chasms.
Dmitri gritted his teeth, aura exploding outward.
"Titan's Grip!"
Stone rose at his command, bridging the gaps, holding the city together with sheer will. Civilians stumbled across the makeshift bridges, escaping even as the ground collapsed.
Dravor's massive fist came down like a hammer. Dmitri met it head-on, his own fist wreathed in aura.
The impact split the square in two.
---
Dmitri's Resolve
He staggered back, blood running down his arm. The Mountain Breaker loomed, stronger than any Mid-rank he had faced before.
For a moment, the thought of death flickered. And with it, memory.
He remembered the mountains of Siberia, where he first awakened aura while saving his village from a landslide. He had promised then: never to let his people be buried again.
"Even mountains can fall," Dmitri muttered. He raised his fists, aura glowing brighter. "But not before they shield those beneath them."
---
Breaking the Breaker
Dravor roared again, raising both arms for a final strike. Dmitri's eyes narrowed.
"Stone Avalanche!"
The ground erupted. Dozens of stone pillars shot upward, slamming into the titan's body. His jagged armor cracked under the relentless assault.
"Mountain's Judgment!"
Dmitri leapt, his entire body cloaked in rock and aura. His fist struck Dravor's chest like a meteor, shattering the titan's core.
Dravor howled as his massive body collapsed into rubble, dissolving into ash that scattered across the snow.
---
Aftermath
Silence fell over the Red Square.
Snowflakes drifted lazily down, covering the ash of fallen demons. Dmitri stood in the center, bloodied but unbowed, his chest heaving with effort.
Around him, civilians peeked from hiding. They saw not just a wielder, but a mountain that had shielded them from annihilation.
Dmitri closed his eyes, his aura dimming.
"…The ground is steady. For now."
But as he looked up at the rift, still pulsing red in the sky, unease gripped his heart. He could feel it — each victory was hollow. Something darker was waiting, feeding on the struggle.
For the first time, Dmitri Ivanov, the Mountain of Russia, wondered if even a mountain could crumble.