My Primordial Demon System

The commander turned, scanning the shocked faces of his men as their eyes locked on the Goblin King. He let out a frustrated sigh before roaring,

"What the hell are you doing?! Fire at it! Kill it before it hurts anyone!"

The men snapped out of their daze, pulling their triggers and unleashing a storm of bullets from their high-powered assault rifles. The Goblin King spun its massive mace in a blur, the weapon whirling like a vortex, deflecting every shot.

The commander and his men froze in disbelief.

Grinding his teeth, the commander yanked a grenade free, pulled the pin, and hurled it. The explosion tore through the street with a deafening blast, half of the Goblin King's body was obliterated in the blast. The monster collapsed, dead.

Cheers erupted from the soldiers, but their celebration was short-lived.

From the gate, another Goblin King emerged, larger and more ferocious than the last, wielding a massive battle axe. Behind it poured a wave of Hobgoblins, their vicious eyes gleaming as they charged in every direction, tearing toward the nearest victims.

The soldiers opened fire again, clips rattling as they cut down some of the Hobgoblins, but others pushed through, slipping past the gunfire. And the more they fired, the more goblins poured from the gate. The defensive line cracked.

The horde surged.

Snarling, the commander drew his sidearm, not a standard-issue pistol, but a custom, high-powered weapon. He fired with deadly precision, each bullet tearing through a Hobgoblin's skull. But even as bodies dropped, a new shadow loomed.

The Goblin King.

It thundered forward like a truck, its towering frame shaking the ground. The soldiers scattered as it slammed down, the impact splitting the street in a violent explosion.

Boom!

A crater gaped where the strike had landed. The men stumbled to their feet, gasping for breath, their faces slick with sweat, fear etched into their eyes.

"Take him down!" the commander barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "For the sake of everyone in this city! If we don't hold them back before reinforcements arrive, the entire city will be in trouble"

His words lit a fire in their chests. They raised their rifles and poured lead into the horde once more.

But the Goblin King was too fast.

It blitzed across the street, a blur of muscle and fury. In an instant, it was among a cluster of soldiers. One brutal swing of its axe, and heads flew, blood spraying in fountains.

The monster's gaze swept to the rest. They fired without stopping, but it slipped through their bullets with frightening speed, cutting them down one after another.

And still, the gate spewed more horrors. Goblins, hobgoblins, even generals began to emerge, flooding the battlefield.

The commander's jaw clenched. The soldiers' line was broken. The scene had become dire, far beyond their strength.

They would never hold. Not without reinforcements. But despite being unable to stop the goblins, the commander forced his courage..

"Get on your feet and fight! We have to hold the line!" he bellowed.

He raised his pistol and leveled it at the Goblin King as the horde crashed into his men.

Gunfire thundered through the streets, grenades exploded in flashes of fire and smoke, and the wet sound of teeth tearing into flesh filled the air. Agonized screams cut through the chaos, but the commander stood his ground.

The Goblin King's gaze locked onto him. It let out a bone-rattling roar that shook the very air, the sound reverberating through the street like a quake.

Then, with terrifying speed, it lunged.

The commander took a deep breath, bracing himself as the monster barreled toward him like a living storm.

The commander thought bitterly, 'So this is what they face… fighting every single day behind those gates.' He couldn't imagine what those people had endure, and yet here he was, incapable of killing even one of these monsters.

A pained chuckle slipped from his lips as he raised his pistol and opened fire. One bullet slammed into the Goblin King's side, another tore into its shoulder, and a third pierced its neck. But still, the beast didn't fall.

The Goblin King leapt into the air, its massive weapon raised high. It came crashing down in a savage arc.

In that moment, the commander yanked a grenade from behind his back, pin already pulled. His intent was clear, take the monster with him, even if it meant his own death.

But before he could act, something blurred past. The grenade was snatched from his grip and hurled skyward, exploding harmlessly above.

Both the commander and the Goblin King froze in shock.

The commander's eyes darted to the source. A man stood coolly a few meters away, a long spear in his hand. His black hair flowed down his back, his clothes reminiscent of traditional martial garment.

He pointed the spear at the Goblin King.

"Leave the man alone," he said coldly. "Come fight me."

The Awakened had arrived.

All across the city, Awakened had been signaled by the Guild and directed to the gate. This man was the first to reach it.

Sensing the greater threat, the Goblin King's focus shifted immediately. With a roar, it charged.

The man spun his spear with effortless grace, the tip igniting in a surge of fire. He thrust forward with such speed that the Goblin King could barely react. Flames erupted, lancing through the monster's chest and blasting it off its feet.

The Goblin King hit the ground with a heavy crash, dead in an instant.

The commander stared, eyes wide in awe. The same creature he had fought with every ounce of strength, struggled against, and nearly died facing, erased in a single strike.

Only then did he truly grasp the chasm between ordinary soldiers and the Awakened.

The man gave the commander a small nod, a gesture of respect for holding the line until he arrived. Then he launched forward, a blur of speed, his spear carving through Hobgoblins faster than their eyes could follow. His movements were clean, precise, deadly, cutting down enemies one after another as he advanced toward the gate.

But he wasn't alone.

One by one, more Awakened dropped into the fray, each carrying their own weapon and unleashing their unique abilities. Fire roared, water surged, blades flashed, and winds howled as the battlefield exploded with power. The tide shifted instantly, the Goblins were forced back, their numbers thinning as Awakened tore through them.

In seconds, corpses littered the streets, and the civilians had already evacuated. For a moment, it seemed like the situation was finally under control.

At least, that's what everyone thought.

Because then, something else stepped out of the gate.

An Orc.

It towered over the battlefield, its massive frame dwarfing the Goblins, a spiked mace clutched in its hand. Alone, it would have been dangerous but manageable. The problem was that more followed behind.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

The number kept climbing, each one as massive and menacing as the first.

The Awakened froze for a moment, eyes narrowing. Orcs were C-rank monsters, terrifying enough on their own, and yet they had emerged from the same gate as mere E-ranked Goblins. It made no sense. But retreat wasn't an option.

Most of the Awakened present were C to B-rank themselves. It would be difficult, but if they could take down the Orcs and push into the gate, they might still save it before worse things came through.

With a wordless roar, the Awakened surged forward. The battle against the Orcs began in full force.

. . . . .

On the other side of things, Silva and his sister Ella entered a dusty warehouse. As the heavy doors creaked shut, a sudden light flickered on, filling the vast space in a pale glow.

It was strange, after all these years, the warehouse still had power.

The place was barren, the sound of their footsteps echoing, until their eyes caught the far end of the room. Piles of objects sat draped in white cloth, ghostly shapes lined up under the sheets.

Curious, Silva walked forward, Ella and Peter close behind. His chest tightened, his breathing short, each step heavier than the last. He stood before the covered objects, heart pounding.

This was it.

Beneath these cloths lay the things their parents had left behind. Maybe answers, maybe clues to where they had gone, maybe even the truth of what had happened to them.

"Are you okay bro? You seem a little hesitant." Peter said.

"Yeah, whatever is under here is what our parents left for us, and might tell us what happened to them. But if there is nothing under here that's useful, then everything about my parents are gone.

But if i leage this closed, then i still have hope yuat there might be something important there that they left behind" Silva said, pouring his heart.

"Boy, will you open the freaking cover already, the hell do you mean by all that" Peter said.