Lusian woke before he understood why.
It wasn't a sound at first, but pressure.Something heavy. Ancient. Moving through the mountain.
Isabella slept beside him, naked, her dark hair spread across his chest. Her breathing was calm, trusting. For a moment, Lusian hesitated. He wanted to stay there, pretend it was just another shadow in a broken world.
Then the alarm sounded.
The horn echoed once.Then again.Low. Urgent. Not panicked… not yet.
Lusian was already on his feet when the third call split the dawn.
"Stay…" Isabella murmured, half-asleep, clutching his arm.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers for a brief moment.
"I'll be back."
Nothing more.
By the time he reached the wall, the air was thick with dense mana—like the calm before a storm that brings ruin instead of rain.
And then he saw it.
The beast was climbing the mountain as if gravity didn't exist.
It was massive—not just in size, but in presence. Each step crushed stone. Each breath made the surrounding mana tremble. Its body was an impossible fusion: overwhelming muscle, bone plates overgrown with moss and natural crystal, horns curling like ancient roots.
Its eyes didn't search for defenders.
They searched higher.
"…S-rank," someone whispered.
Lusian didn't answer.
It didn't need saying.
This was Omega.
A walking calamity.
"It's not here for the settlement," Lusian said, gaze fixed. "It's looking for something."
That was worse.
If it kept climbing, it would find the cave.It would find the Mother Tree.
"We stop it here," he added. "Or we don't stop it at all."
A presence stepped beside him.
Elizabeth.
Moonlight softened her features. Simple clothes. No insignia. No visible aura. To anyone else, she was just a strong woman.
To Lusian… she was something else entirely.
"Can it climb higher?" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
Her lips tightened.
Her fear wasn't of the monster.
It was of Lusian getting hurt.
And if that happened, she would unleash everything—no matter the cost.
But for now, she held back.
As always.
"Lusian!"
Adela landed beside him in a fluid motion, her coat snapping in the wind. The white tiger followed with a low roar, frost crystallizing beneath its paws.
"My partner is ready," she said. "But… that's not normal prey."
"I know."
A soft glow descended from the inner tower.
Emily.
Her presence calmed the surrounding mana, as if light itself aligned around her. Her eyes shifted from the beast… to Lusian.
"It's not like the others—it's not grazing," she said plainly. "If it reaches us, the city will be destroyed."
A whisper moved through shadow.
Dayana appeared almost soundlessly, red eyes fixed on the creature.
"It's hungry," she murmured. "Like it wants something."
Kara arrived next, planting her greatsword against the wall.
"What a beast," she growled. "Let's see if it can take a hit."
Then the air changed.
Selvryn stepped forward, barefoot, pale, eyes not on the wall—but beyond it.
Toward the cave.
Her hands trembled.
"It can feel it," she said, voice breaking. "Like water in a desert."
Lusian turned sharply.
"The Tree?"
She nodded.
"If it bites a root…" she swallowed. "It won't just become stronger. It will become something else."
The monster lifted its head.
For a moment, its eyes locked onto the wall.
Not with hatred.Not with challenge.
With recognition.
Lusian stepped forward.
"We're going to pull it away."
He dropped from the wall, landing on a jutting rock directly in the creature's path. Dust and stone exploded outward.
"Here," he called, his voice amplified by mana. "Look at me."
The beast's gaze snapped to him.
"Human… where is it? Tell me. Where is it?"
The mana around them tightened.
Selvryn shut her eyes.
"It speaks…" she whispered. "How long has it lived…?"
"It doesn't matter," Kara growled. "It dies the same."
"Leave," Lusian ordered. "You're not welcome here."
The monster laughed, shaking the mountain.
"No one tells me what to do. I take what I want."
It charged.
The impact shook the mountain.
Lusian moved at the last instant, deflecting the blow with a shadow-wrapped strike. The collision tore half the rock ledge apart.
Mana burned through his arms.
"It's strong…" Emily murmured.
"Stay back," Lusian said. "You'll have work. Heal the wounded."
She nodded, retreating.
"Be careful."
"Now!" Adela shouted.
The white tiger lunged. Ice exploded beneath the beast's feet, making it slip—just enough. It crashed against the mountainside with a thunderous impact.
Dayana flickered in and out, leaving precise cuts—not lethal, just disruptive.
The monster responded with blind violence.
Every strike could kill.
The sun climbed.
And Lusian felt it.
Each exchange drained him faster than he could recover.
"Fall back!" Lusian shouted. "Everyone back—now!"
Too late.
The wave hit.
No fire. No explosion. Just pressure—stealing breath, ripping mana from their bodies.
Lusian coughed blood.Dayana reappeared on her knees.Selvryn collapsed, blood from her nose.
"We're not hurting it…" she whispered.
The monster stepped forward.
Glowing lines pulsed across its body—feeding on the environment.
Lusian understood.
"Its weak points are covered…"
For the first time since arriving in this world—
He didn't know what to do.
The sky answered.
Lightning tore down from the clouds—pure, violent—striking the monster's back.
The mountain trembled.
The beast roared—not in pain, but interruption.
"Now!" Lusian ordered.
Elizabeth stood on the wall, electricity still crackling across her armor. Her hands trembled—not from effort, but restraint.
"Just that…" she whispered. "Just a push."
"Partial retreat! Open formation!" Lusian commanded. "Don't face it head-on!"
The fight shifted.
No longer offense.
Containment.
Arrows rained down—dozens, then more. Not piercing, but forcing reactions. Buying seconds.
Seconds were everything.
The sun began to fall.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
"We won't last," Selvryn whispered.
Lusian said nothing.
He watched the horizon.
Shadows stretched.
The monster stopped.
Something changed.
Subtle. Real.
"Hold," Lusian said quietly. "Almost."
Night fell.
Not abruptly.
Like the world exhaled.
The last light died.
And the mountain changed hands.
The monster stepped forward.
Something cut it.
It didn't see it.Didn't feel it coming.
Only the result.
A clean wound split its side.
It roared, lashing out—mana exploding in every direction.
Nothing answered.
There was no enemy to strike.
Another cut.Another.Another.
From above.From below.From within its own shadow.
It wasn't surrounded by darkness.
It was inside it.
The monster panicked.
Attacked wildly.
Each strike wasted mana.
Each moment bled it dry.
Shadow spears appeared—already embedded—piercing muscle and armor alike.
It fell.
Rose again.
Bleeding.
Confused.
Dying.
It tried to flee.
It couldn't.
Every step punished. Every motion answered.
Lusian wasn't chasing it.
He was becoming the night ahead of it.
When the beast finally collapsed, its mana was nearly gone.
It looked around—
At nothing.
Then it understood.
It wasn't being attacked.
It was being worn down.
One last explosion.
All its remaining mana—gone in a desperate release.
The night swallowed it.
Silence.
Then—
A final strike.
Clean. Precise.
Through its core.
"Don't… don't kill me. I'll leave. I won't touch what's yours."
Lusian's voice was quiet.
"How ironic. You came for food… and now you'll become it."
The final blow fell.
The creature collapsed.
And cried.
Not from pain.
From confusion.
It never understood its enemy.
Lusian dropped to his knees.
The world rushed back—cold, weight, exhaustion.
His mana was gone.
Empty.
If anything had appeared then—anything at all—
He would have died.
"Lusian!"
Lightning flashed.
Elizabeth reached him first, lifting him before he could fall. Behind her came Emily, Selvryn, the elves… Adela, limping beside her wounded tiger… Dayana, pale even for a vampire.
Selvryn knelt.
"He's empty…" she whispered. "Completely empty."
Elizabeth held him tighter.
"Idiot…" she murmured. "If we hadn't come…"
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
That night, the settlement did not sleep.
The calamity's corpse was dragged down, dismantled with reverence and fear. Its mana-rich flesh fed great fires. Elves performed quiet rituals to prevent corruption. Humans set long tables, shared nervous laughter, sang tired songs.
The monster became their meal.
Not a celebration of violence.
A proof of survival.
Wine. Warm bread. Roasted meat. Shared silence.
Children asleep in borrowed arms.Warriors laughing without strength.Selvryn watching the Mother Tree, feeling its roots steady and calm.
Lusian woke by the fire, wrapped in blankets. Isabella slept beside him. Around them, the settlement breathed as one.
They had survived.
Not through miracles.Not through invincibility.
But because no one had fought alone.
And as the mountain kept the memory of a night that hunted a calamity, the settlement learned a dangerous, beautiful truth:
Even monsters… could feed a home.