For hours, the line held. Amoto crashed against our defenses, tearing through bamboo and flesh with equal ease, but he couldn't break through. My soldiers, exhausted and traumatized, dug trenches in the hard soil of the corridor, taking turns sleeping in the mud while the Beast King raged a few hundred yards away.

  "He doesn't stop," Bells muttered, landing next to me on the rampart. He looked haggard. "He hasn't rested in hours. Does he have infinite Qi?"

  "It seems so," Goros noted from my pocket. "Beast Cultivation draws from the primal energy of the environment. As long as he is on the earth, he feeds."

  The attrition was brutal. I wasn't used to this. My previous conflicts had been skirmishes—quick, violent bursts. This was a grind. This was a pre-Collapse war, where the days blurred into a single, bloody smear.

  "Alert!" a sentry screamed from the watchtower. "Movement on the flanks!"

  I looked through my binoculars.

  Vehicles were swarming out in the distance. Modified trucks with spikes, motorcycles with sidecars gunners.

  "Harvest Fleets," I spat.

  "They're back?" Bells asked, disbelief in his voice. "You destroyed their bases!"

  "Of course they're back," I said. "They're cockroaches and they smell blood."

  The Fleets couldn't breach the main corridor—my walls were too thick—but they could harass us. They started picking off supply runners, sniping at the sentries, and launching Molotovs over the walls. It was death by a thousand cuts.

  I had to divert two divisions to deal with them. I expanded the corridor, pushing the walls out to create a buffer zone, stretching my resources even thinner.

  "This is a mess," I whispered.

  The fight dragged on for days.

  On the fifth day, the sky changed.

  A red light appeared in the clouds to the south. It was an unnatural crimson glow that spread like a bloodstain across the horizon.

  Then came shapes.

  Hundreds of them. Small, fast silhouettes blotting out the red light.

  "Air support?" Bells asked, squinting. "Drones?"

  "No," I said, a smile spreading across my face. "Brooms."

  The Cove had arrived.

  They descended like a flock of angry birds. Women in red robes, riding on literal broomsticks.

  The leader landed directly in front of me on the rampart.

  Misty hopped off her broom furious. Her sunglasses were gone, revealing eyes that burned with rage.

  She marched up to me and grabbed me by the collar of my armor.

  "Are you out of your mind?!" she screamed, shaking me.

  "Hello to you too," I said, grinning.

  "You dare play with me?!" she yelled. "You dragged my entire faction into a war over a grudge! Do you have a death wish? Or do you just love chaos?"

  "I love survival," I said, removing her hand from my collar. "White Hill attacked me. They had troops on the ground. They fired first."

  "Because you teleported into their line of fire!" Misty yelled. "I analyzed the footage! You used your own man as bait!"

  "Details," I said, waving a hand. "The clause is clear. Defense Only. We were attacked. You are here to defend. We are allies, right?"

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  I leaned in.

  "And allies always help each other."

  Misty looked like she wanted to turn me into a toad. But before she could respond, a roar shook the ramparts.

  Amoto launched another poison attack and a cloud of purple mist rolled over the front lines, melting the bamboo barricades and the soldiers behind them. Thousands died in seconds.

  Misty turned, her eyes widening.

  "What is that?" she whispered.

  "That," I said, pointing at the hulking beast ravaging my army, "is the Final Boss. Have fun."

  Misty stared at the monster and realized that her anger was irrelevant. The threat was real.

  She signaled to the figure hovering behind her.

  Lily

  The silent witch, still wearing her veil, stepped forward. She looked at Amoto and cracked her knuckles.

  She began to chant and her hands moved in a blur.

  "Watermelon Man."

  The ground in front of Amoto exploded.

  A massive, green, humanoid shape pulled itself out of the earth. It was ten feet tall, made entirely of watermelon flesh and rind and looked ridiculous.

  Amoto charged it, claws slashing.

  His claws sank into the fruit flesh, getting stuck but the Watermelon Man didn't feel pain. It grabbed Amoto in a bear hug, its sticky juice binding the beast's wings.

  For the first time in five days, Amoto was pushed back.

  "Reinforce the line!" Misty ordered.

  The Cove witches descended and landed among the wounded soldiers and began casting healing spells. Green light knit flesh and bone together.

  I noticed something. Every single witch was a woman… And they looked disgusted. They healed my men with a grimace, wiping their hands on their robes afterward.

  "Where are the men?" I asked. "You can't be all female."

  "They're coming," Misty said tightly.

  Ten minutes later, a second wave of transports arrived. But these weren't brooms. They were flying shipping containers.

  Men poured out wearing grey tunics and red metal collars around their necks.

  They knelt in rows behind the witches and the collars glowed. I saw streams of Qi flowing from the men into the women.

  "Batteries," Goros noted. "Nice slave operation she's running."

  I chuckled. "Nice slave operation," I repeated to Misty.

  Misty glared at me. "I prefer the term 'unpaid labor.' They serve the Cove. It is their honor."

  We turned back to the fight.

  Lily and the Watermelon Man were a wrecking crew. The construct acted as the perfect sponge, absorbing Amoto’s attacks while Lily rained down spells from above.

  The morale of the combined army skyrocketed and we pushed forward. We reclaimed the lost ground.

  For seven hours, we advanced.

  Then, Lily stopped while the Watermelon Man continued to hold the line.

  She flew back to the camp and headed to bed.

  "She's out," Misty said. "She needs some hours to recharge."

  "We hold the line until then," I said.

  The cycle repeated. We fought, we held, Lily woke up, we pushed.

  It took three days.

  Three days of grinding warfare. But we did it. We pushed Amoto all the way back to the zoo.

  I stood on a hill overlooking the gates. Amoto was cornered. He was bleeding from a thousand wounds, his fur matted, his wings torn. He was on his last legs.

  "He falls today," I said.

  The soldiers cheered for the end was in sight.

  Then suddenly, the ground rumbled.

  It shook the trees.

  I sighed. "One more last stand? He really doesn't know when it’s time to end a show."

  "That's not Amoto," Misty said, her voice dropping.

  She pointed East.

  A cloud of white dust was rising from the horizon.

  Hundreds of tanks. Armored personnel carriers. Heavy artillery trucks. Attack helicopters swarming like wasps.

  They bore the White Mountain sigil.

  "Why are they here?" I whispered. "They shouldn't be here."

  There was no reason for a full scale invasion. The mercenaries were a small unit. Did Axehill know? Was he monitoring them?

  Panic flared in my chest. If White Hill was here in force...

  Misty grabbed my arm. "I didn’t know you had summoned the entire army!"

  "I didn't!" I shouted. "I don't know why they're here!"

  It didn't matter. The reality was in front of us.

  To the West: Amoto, the Beast King.

  To the Flanks: The Harvest Fleets.

  To the East: White Hill.

  We were surrounded.

  I forced myself to calm down. Panic killed. Strategy survived.

  "Change of plans!" I said to the confused army.

  "Focus fire on the East! We hold the approach!"

  Misty looked at the cornered beast in the zoo.

  "The Cove will stay locked on Amoto," she said. "We can't let him loose behind us."

  I nodded.

  "It's time for round two White Hill," I said.