Brent.

This young man in Jeremiah City was extremely frightened at the moment.

He sat down on the ground, and the two little brothers who had been working hard were long gone—not that they were too timid to abandon their masters, but ...... They have long been the food for the monster in front of them.

That's—

A tree?

Trees, trees...... Dryad?

Obviously, the eldest young master from Jeremiah City did not pay attention to the lecture, and his barren knowledge could not tell him what kind of monster and what kind of evil he had encountered.

His fears came from instinct alone, and ......

Companions—companions, let's all, maybe it would be more appropriate to use the same kind here?, but there was no need to delve into that anymore, he just watched them, and watched the rest of his team get knocked down by the monster in front of them, and then skewered by tentacles and thrown into that big, foul-smelling mouth to eat.

"Ahh......h Ah......h

Beyond imagination, even more beyond the fear of cognition, he could not say even a meaningful word, not even a room for struggle, he just stared blankly, staring blankly at the evil thing in front of him that was above the demon and even the higher demon.

- It is about eight to nine meters tall, and from a distance it looks like some kind of tree: its stubby feet are tree trunks, its body full of tentacles is the canopy, and there are one or several huge mouths around it, from which green slime is constantly dripping, and several thick black tentacles are constantly circling and flying overhead, accompanied by exclamations, unscrupulously catching the scattered Holy Cult soldiers.

Wolves into the flock.

It was a massacre.

It's not that no one resists, but human weapons can't hurt this terrible monster at all—

The volley of firebolts could only pierce its skin, causing it to twist its body in pain, waving its tiny tentacles like a canopy above its head, attacking everything around it in a furious attack.

The power of the steam-powered greatsword was good, but it couldn't do too much damage to it, the terrible demon - a few "lucky ones" caught in tentacles were in a mortal situation, and this steam-powered greatsword that could rival the full force of the great sword-wielding swordsman slashed off several of its tentacles, splashing sparks of dark green blood, but that was all.

There is no pain at all.

Even if you have enough strength to slash at its thick hooves, although you can see blood, although it can make it painful, but ...... It's like a knife slashing a wound on its body, and it will let out a sharp hiss at best.

Then, those who dared to swing their swords at it were either swallowed into the belly, or they were reduced to a piece of flesh after a random trampling, and there were at least a dozen warriors who were not afraid of death, but none of them really hurt it, hurting this monster with a twisted shape.

However, the Holy Cult did not stop the offensive, and after the initial confusion, the scattered forces regrouped at an extremely rapid pace.

"Protect the Sword Wielder and assist the Sword Wielder in their offensive!"

A Cult soldier who was probably the leader of the squad roared loudly, his voice like a small wave in the storm, loud but insignificant.

And then—

He led the charge, launching a mortal charge, the steam-driven greatsword completely overloaded, the red-hot water emitted from the vents almost smothering the palms of his leather gloves, but he didn't snort, just roared, roared—

Swing your sword!

But...... Nothing was chopped.

He slashed into the void - the terrible monster had already anticipated the trajectory of his attack with extraordinary intelligence, and the black, thick tentacles churned out, rolling him up, and before he could struggle, several thin branches pierced his head directly from his ears, and hung the corpse with angry eyes, and sent it to the mouth that emitted a foul smell that was stronger and worse than the corpse.

Fortunately, his sacrifice was not without merit.

Black goats—the terrifying monsters that inhabit the deepest depths of the night, they are powerful, but they are not inexplicable—at least, their main tentacles are limited.

More than a dozen people launched an offensive together, and finally three of them luckily avoided the net woven by the tentacles, and while shouting, they slashed the full-power greatsword in their hands on its feet.

Blood splattered everywhere, of course, but before they could confirm the results further, the massive four-hoofed monster let out a hoarse, creepy cry, followed by ...... Trampled mercilessly.

Lives were crushed into mud under the gaze of the young man of Jeremia, and the horrors of war and death were almost overwhelming.

But there is something faintly in my heart.

The disparity in strength is so great that the struggle and resistance of human beings are like a ridiculous joke.

It's just that no one laughs, even Brent, who has always been ignorant of advance and retreat, and who doesn't know whether to live or die, realizes his ridiculousness and insignificance at this moment.

- he opened his mouth.

It seemed like he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't say anything.

Because—

He had been thrown to the ground.

"Be careful!"

It wasn't until he could see the other's face before he could see the other's face, and a black tentacle full of fine particles, like a plant branch and an animal's torso, burst out of his chest.

"Wow-"

Another mouthful of blood, a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs spat on his body.

Please, please......

Although no sound came from the mouth that kept opening and closing, through the eye contact, Brent understood the message that the other party was trying to convey at the end with great subtlety.

"No, it's impossible—" the eldest young master of Jeremiah City let out a moan (crab) that he couldn't even hear, "this monster, this monster...... Woo wow wow wow wow!"

He panicked and wanted to retreat, but he didn't take a few steps back, but he stopped on his own.

- Can't escape.

In the bottom of his heart, there was a faint voice like this.

"I can't escape. ”

Behind him, a voice was heard exactly.

The newborn sword-wielder subconsciously turned his head, and then, he saw an ordinary, unremarkable figure, like other Holy Cult troops, with heavy armor covering his whole body, only the medal on his shoulder could explain his identity as an officer, and he seemed to see through the cowardice in his heart: "We can't escape, no one can be left alone." ”

"Reinforcements, reinforcements—"

Brent said in a hoarse voice.

"There are no reinforcements," the Holy Cult Army revealed the brutal truth in a low tone, "and there will be no reinforcements either." ”

There will be no reinforcements.

The young and young people of Jeremiah City naturally knew this, the entire Holy Cult Army was chiseled through by that thick and long tentacle, and a monster like this didn't know how many heads there were in the entire battlefield, how could they escape, how could they avoid it?

It's naïve.

Laughing at himself dozens of seconds ago, the newborn sword-wielder was silent.

Then he shook his head: "Impossible." ”

Even after the baptism of battle, his temperament has changed a lot from the original arrogance, and Brent has no intention of sacrificing his life for this doomed and futile battle.

"But we don't have a choice. The Holy Cult Army officer replied in a steady tone, judging by the deep voice, it should be a middle-aged male, "You and I, and even everyone here, have nowhere to escape—"

He paused, his voice shortened.

"Only by killing it, only by killing that monster, can we live—only by living. ”

You die, I live.

The irreconcilable contradiction between order and chaos is also reflected in their creations, humans and demons, and demons, and even the abominable monsters that have been bred in the deepest night, only when one side completely destroys the other can this battle be brought to an end, a relative end.

Counting on the mercy of the other party -

does not exist.

"But it can't be done!" the scenes of death replayed before his eyes, and finally froze on the image of the Holy Cult soldier dying to protect him, Brent covered his ears with bloodstained hands, and shouted hysterically, "If you can't do it, you can't do it! I'm not Judas, I'm not Webster, I'm just a waste! Just a dregs! I can't kill that monster...... There's no way to save my companions, and there's no way to help you......"

Tears poured down his eyes, and his voice grew lower and deeper, and became more and more indistinct, until at last there was only a whining sound that was missing.

"But all we can count on is you, you are our last hope. The middle-aged Holy Cult Army officer calmly confided this fact, "So-"

The words came to an abrupt end.

Blood spilled once more on the face of the newborn sword-wielder.

The thick tentacles sank directly into his back, directly penetrating him, who was still brewing some emotion, and then without waiting for him to confide the rest of the words, he rolled back.

Brent lost his words.

He had expected him to let out wave after wave of screams, but perhaps the frail shell had lost its last strength, or perhaps he had become accustomed to the cruelty in front of him, and until the end, he did not make any sound.

He's broken, completely broken.

The eyes gradually lost their lustre, and a cloudy color spread through the pupils.

In the depths of darkness, something invisible is being born.

On the back, invisible to the nascent sword-wielder, the bright red stigma faded and eventually lost its luster.

The will from the deepest night corroded the young man's fragile self, distorted his useless mind, and transformed him little by little into what he liked.

And so—

The shape began to alienate, tentacles grew from the thick hair on the top of the head, and the not strong body began to bulge abnormally and multiply, growing into an almost sarcoma shape, and from there, a second or even a third pair of beast-like hooves were born, and then the legs belonging to humans began to shrink, becoming two tentacles that could not see their original shape, hanging next to the fishy mouth.

Then, in the depths of the night, the new heirs opened their eyes from the brutal battlefield.

Food –

The terrifyingly big mouth cracked with joy.

It has completely forgotten the names it experienced when it was born as a human being, and it does not even make any waves when it hears its own name.

Now it's just a cub, a ...... Cubs of black goats.

And this scene, these deaths, these sacrifices, are just a microcosm of the tragic battlefield, a microcosm of insignificance.

- This is war.

The ultimate war between order and chaos.