Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

Xander stood alone on the palisade two days later, staring into the darkening horizon. The wind was cold, biting through his armor, though he hardly noticed. He fixed his eyes on the north, where the shadow of the undead army lingered, hidden behind the last vestiges of daylight. He wasn't sure if it was bad luck or planning by the approaching army, but they had timed their arrival with twilight. Every sense was alert; every muscle tensed as if waiting for something to snap. He could feel the tension building in the air, the inevitable violence approaching like a storm ready to break.

Around him, the safe zone of Starlight was alive with movement, soldiers and civilians alike making last-minute preparations. Yet, despite the crowd, he felt utterly alone. The rest of the team was on standby in a warehouse nearby until the enemy leaders revealed themselves. Until then, they were the quick reactionary force, ready to rush into battle the moment things took a turn.

But Xander didn't think about that now. His thoughts were elsewhere, drifting to a memory that haunted him like a specter. The weight of Alex's death, failing to protect him during the attack on the Saint Joseph safe zone, gnawed at the back of his mind. He had sworn to never make the same mistake again, never to lose another person he was responsible for, but he knew that was also a false promise. It was unreasonable to think that no one he cared for would die again in the awakened world. The regret was a constant companion, clawing at him even now as he faced an army of the dead.

The wind shifted, bringing with it an eerie silence. The usual sounds of the city faded, leaving an oppressive stillness in its wake. He stared harder into the distance, his heart pounding in sync with the quiet dread creeping into his bones.

Beside him, Cabbot sat on the palisade wall. The spectral cat was unusually still, her translucent fur barely stirring in the breeze. She wasn't looking out toward the northern threat, though. Instead, her gaze was directed inward, toward the city. Xander noticed the odd behavior and reached out to pet her. Typically, Cabot attuned herself to danger, constantly scanning for threats or moving with restless energy. But now, she sat poised like a statue, staring.

"What are you looking at?" Xander said, casting a quick glance in her direction. His love for cats was something of a running joke among his team, but with Cabbot, it was different. She was more than a pet, more than a companion in the traditional sense. She was intelligent, far beyond what even he could fully understand, and their bond was unshakable. Still, her aloofness sometimes made him wonder who was truly in charge of their relationship.

She didn't respond, but her gaze remained fixed on whatever had captured her attention. Xander's eyes followed the line of her stare, but there was nothing. There was no movement, no danger he could see. Just empty stairs leading back toward the staging ground of the Starlight defenses and the people moving beyond them.

A chill crawled up his spine, more from Cabbot's strange behavior than from the stiff wind. He trusted her instincts implicitly, and her refusal to look toward the north made his skin crawl. But there was no time to focus on that now. He had to keep his mind sharp, his attention on the task ahead. The dead were coming, and his team's role would soon be critical.

Turning his eyes back to the horizon, he exhaled a slow breath. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, creating pockets of shadow and darkness across the landscape. In those shadows, Xander could see them with the aid of his Spectral Sight. The skeletal warriors, the rotting flesh, the hollow eyes that burned with unnatural hunger. Everyone on the wall knew they were out there, moving slowly but steadily, an army that knew no fear, no pain.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. "You're on edge."

Xander startled, the greeting jarring him from his intense focus. His heart leaped into his throat as he whirled, spear half-raised, before he realized who it was. Lyra stood nearby, her calm presence starkly contrasting with the tension in the air. Xander hadn't even heard her approach, and that fact unsettled him more than the army of undead lurking in the distance.

"Lyra," he breathed, lowering his weapon. "I didn't hear you."

"I know, I can tell," she replied.

Xander frowned. How had she gotten so close without him noticing? He prided himself on his awareness, his ability to sense danger and react quickly. Yet Lyra, with her usual calm demeanor, had slipped past his defenses without so much as a whisper.

"Sorry, I'm a little preoccupied," he said, more to himself than to her. He was supposed to be at the height of his awareness, prepared for anything. Yet here she was, appearing out of nowhere like a ghost.

"Understandable," she replied gently, her eyes flicking to Cabbot, now staring back at her intently. "But something's bothering you."

"It's nothing." His voice was sharper than he intended, but the truth was something was bothering him. He didn't know how to explain it. How could he describe the feeling of wrongness creeping over him? The weight of Alex's death, Cabbot's strange behavior, the eerie silence that now filled the city, that the simulation was actively trying to wipe humanity off the map. It was all stirring something existential inside him, something he didn't want to face. If this was a simulation, then did any of it really matter?

Lyra took a step closer to lean against the palisade wall, her presence calming, though it only made Xander more uneasy. She had a way about her, an almost therapist-like quality that could disarm even the most hardened warriors. Usually, he appreciated it, but right now, it made him feel vulnerable. Too much was riding on this, and he couldn't afford to lose focus.

"You've been through a lot, Xander," she said, her eyes meeting his as she reached out to pet Cabbot. "But don't let it cloud your judgment."

"My judgment is just fine, thank you."

"Are you sure? I only ask because you seem to approach this as the simulation actively trying to wipe humanity out." Lyra continued.

Xander raised an eyebrow at that statement. Of course, the simulation was trying to kill them. Instead of responding, he gestured back toward the army as if to illustrate his point.

"It looks pretty obvious to me, not to mention the level-zero filter that caused the death of billions," Xander tersely responded. "Dungeons, monsters, all technology just stopping. Planes falling out of the sky, plus who knows what happened to all those ships on the ocean. It's not like they can break out sails…" He was getting more agitated the longer he talked. "Then, just when we're making even a little headway toward clawing out a scrape of safety, out pops an army that has its sights set on Starlight."

"Not sure about you, but that feels like the simulation holding a grudge to me," Xander fumed.

"Then why issue quests to save people? Or find lost races? There are many other beneficial interactions," Lyra replied.

"No, Xander. The Simulation is not good or evil. The danger is real, but I think the goal of the AI is to provide challenges for players to overcome. If it just wanted to wipe everyone out, then I'm sure it could have done it more directly," Lyra explained.

"Is there a point to this? This isn't a distraction I need at the moment." Xander said tersely. Anytime now, Xander would be up to his knees in blood and sweat; this didn't feel like a good time to have a philosophical discussion regarding the simulation.

"My point isn't to distract you from the coming battle, but to get you to see it from a different perspective. Is this a genuine danger, and are people going to die? Most likely, but think back to every game you've ever played. Aren't there normally mechanics in these events that bring about a win condition? From what I heard, there was a control stone in Seymour that ended the encounter."

"So maybe you need to change your way of thinking," she said before hopping off the wall to look back at the approaching army with him.

He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. She was right, of course, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. He wasn't one to dwell on emotions when there were enemies at the gates. And yet, as he looked at her, standing so calmly amid impending chaos, a thought wormed its way into his mind: How does she do that?

How does she remain so calm, so composed, when the world is falling apart? It wasn't just her demeanor. Something deeper, something gnawed at him both times he spoke to her. Something he couldn't quite place. And now, with Cabbot's strange behavior and Lyra's unsettlingly quiet approach, the feeling was growing stronger.

"If I'm following you here, you're saying that this isn't about defeating the army in a straight-up fight, but there is some kind of goal or mechanic the defending forces need to achieve?" Xander said after taking a deep breath to let the tension drain from his shoulders.

"I wouldn't know. I was just pointing out that while this is not a game, the army is a construct of an AI designed to challenge the players." Lyra said with a smile.

He shifted his spear in his hand, Lyra's words ringing in his mind. She had a point. There may be other ways to win this fight, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with an obvious method. He stood atop the ridge, scanning the field below. The ground stretched out in muted shades of grey and brown, the once fertile soil now marred by the weight of approaching death. He could see the first flickers of green light. The unmistakable, eerie glow of the undead, bathing the field in a sickly radiance.

The temperature seemed to drop the closer the army got. Xander didn't remember a temperature drop, unlike any previous undead encounters. Did that mean something? Something wasn't right. He swept his gaze across the field again, looking for any sign of what Lyra might have meant. Something else at play, something he hadn't yet noticed. His eyes darted across the ground, searching for any terrain advantage or hidden features that might turn the tide. But the land was flat, midwestern United States flat. He wouldn't have been surprised if a trip across America's heartland gave flat-earthers that idea. What was he missing?

He frowned, unsettled by the lack of clarity. The unnatural cold deepened, wrapping around him like a vice. His breath fogged the air again as the temperature dropped even further, making the metal of his armor bite into his skin. He glanced around, half-expecting Lyra to elaborate. When it became clear he wasn't catching on to whatever she was trying to point out, but when he turned to speak to her again, she was gone.

"Lyra?" he called, but the words fell into the stillness.

The spot where she had been standing was empty. Xander blinked in confusion, his eyes scanning the immediate area, searching for any sign of her. She had vanished without a sound. Not a whisper, not a trace of movement. One moment she had been beside him, and the next, she was gone. Disappeared as if she had never been there at all.

"Did you see where she went?" he asked as footsteps sounded across the now-frozen grass behind him.

Harvey, Mason, and JT approached, their faces shadowed in the dim light. Harvey carried his massive war hammer slung across his back, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dying light. Mason, his gaze locked on the approaching horde, calm but focused. JT wore a faint smile, though there was a tightness around his eyes that Xander hadn't seen before.

"Who?" JT asked, scanned the space where Xander had been looking.

"Lyra. She was standing right here," Xander said, his voice edged with confusion. "Now she's gone."

Harvey exchanged a glance with Mason and JT. "We saw you talking to someone, but couldn't make out who it was," he said, his voice gruff. "Didn't see her leave."

"Is this the same Lyra you mentioned before the expedition left Starlight?" Mason commented.

"Yeah, that was her. Did you guys ever find her?" Xander replied.

"No, we couldn't find anyone by that name or your description," Mason said, his face twisting into a frown. "This is most concerning."

Xander frowned, his discomfort growing. First, Lyra's strange words about alternative strategies, and now her sudden disappearance. People didn't just dispense advice and vanish without explanation.

"We've got bigger concerns unless you feel her intent was hostile. This would be a bad time for a saboteur," JT said, nodding toward the distant green glow and changing the topic. "Enzo and his crew were working beyond the wall all day yesterday, setting something up for the attack. He didn't tell me much, but its gotta be something good, right?"

"This cold is new. We haven't seen that before when fighting undead," Harvey commented.

"Yeah, it is new. Could be important, so pass the word along to make sure anyone speaks up if they see something strange," Xander said.

"You mean beyond the giant army of undead coming to pay a visit?" JT said with a strained chuckle.

The blast of a horn ripped through the stillness, cutting off further conversation. All four men turned toward the battlefield. The eerie green glow had intensified as the first wave of the undead surged forward. Their moans echoed across the field, rising in a twisted, discordant symphony. The ground seemed to tremble beneath their collective march, a mass of decayed soldiers, skeletal warriors, and hulking brutes clattering in rusted armor. Their eyes glowed with a malevolent light, flickering like ghostly lanterns in the encroaching darkness.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The First Battle of Starlight
Question Notification! The First Battle of Starlight has begun! You stand on the threshold of conflict. The undead forces march forward, their ranks spreading across the battlefield like a plague. Starlight's walls represent your final defense. The horns have sounded. You are the last line between the stronghold and its destruction.
Victory Conditions: Survive for 48 hours while maintaining the structural integrity of the Starlight stronghold or destroy a significant portion of the enemy forces. The value of each defeated unit will vary based on the type and quality of the enemy combatant. WARNING! Failure to meet either condition will result in the fall of Starlight and its destruction as a safe zone.
Rewards: Variable based on participation

Accept? Yes/No

Quest Update! Proximity to the event location automatically accepts the First Battle of Starlight quest.

Xander felt a cold sweat run down his back as he watched them. There was something deeply unsettling about their movement. It was not the slow, shambling gait one might expect from the undead, but an organized, purposeful march. They were coming, and they would not stop. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the thrum of the undead army's advance. The sound of armor clanking and bones rattling grew louder, mingling with the unnatural cold that seeped into his very bones. The earth felt frozen beneath his feet, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with tension.

"Here they come."

A second horn blast echoed across the field, and this time the undead answered it as a deafening wail that sent a shiver down Xander's spine. Their advance quickened, the moans turning into something more feral, more hungry. The skeletal archers at the back of the formation raised their bows, the strings pulling taut with a hollow, bone-on-bone creak. The hulking brutes at the front snarled as they closed the distance, their rusted weapons gleaming with the same sickly green light that surrounded them.

Xander could feel the tension in the air thickening, the cold growing more intense. It was as if the very essence of death was rolling toward them, an unstoppable tide of decay. He glanced at JT, seeing steely resolve replace his usual cheer, and then at Harvey, who had already positioned himself for the first strike.

The first undead wave thundered closer. Xander could see their individual features now. The tattered armor, the decayed flesh hanging loosely from bones, the empty eye sockets glowing with eerie, unnatural light. The stench of rot and death reached him even from this distance, making him gag.

The horns blared a third time, and the ground beneath Xander's feet vibrated with the force of the undead charge. The cold was biting now, a deep chill that crept into his armor, into his very soul. He could hear the voices of the men around him and the clinking of weapons as they braced for impact.

The undead horde surged forward, a tide of decayed flesh, rusted armor, and soulless eyes glowing faintly in the twilight. Their march was relentless, the thud of boots and the clatter of bones mixing with the eerie chorus of moans. Xander tightened his grip on his spear, every muscle in his body coiled for action. The battlefield stretched like a twisted sea of death, but he had no time for fear. Only action. His eyes flicked across the advancing line, scanning for weaknesses for anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, without warning, the front ranks of the undead vanished from view.

There was no explosion, no violent clash of weapons. Just the abrupt disappearance of the first wave as they tumbled into the ground. A trench. Xander hadn't seen it before, camouflaged beneath layers of debris and earth, but now the undead were pouring into it like water into a basin. Limbs flailed as they tumbled, their momentum dragging more of them into the pit.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, a brilliant flash of orange streaked through the dusk.

Crackling with energy, a fire bolt shot from the palisade to Xander's left and arced gracefully toward the trench. It struck with pinpoint precision, and the pit erupted into flames in the next instant. Fire exploded upward, consuming the undead that had fallen inside. The flames raged, fueled by something more than simple kindling. The undead, mindless and unfeeling, barely reacted as their bodies ignited, but their tortured forms thrashed in the inferno as the fire burned hotter, fiercer.

Mason's chuckle broke the tension. "Looks like Enzo and his crew had a little surprise waiting for them," he said, standing a few paces from Xander. He nodded toward the inferno, a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Must've filled the trench with oil. Nasty stuff."

"Remind me to buy that psycho a drink if we survive this," he added.

Beyond the burning trench, the rest of the undead continued their advance, seemingly undeterred by the fiery demise of their comrades. More poured in from the dark, their eyes glowing with that sickly green hue. Skeletal archers, with rusted but functional bows, took up positions further back. Their arrowheads gleamed, drawing back in unison before loosing a volley toward the Starlight defenders.

Arrows sliced through the air, clattering against the fortifications. Some arrows found their marks, embedding in shields or armor, but most arrows deflected or missed. From atop the walls, the defenders of Starlight answered in kind. Bolts of energy, arrows, and the occasional burst of magic streaked down toward the advancing horde, finding targets among the mass of undead. The air buzzed with the sound of arrows cutting through the wind, the dull thuds of impact, and the sharp crack of magic striking home.

Xander's focus sharpened as he scanned the approaching forces. The pit had taken out a portion of the undead, but the bulk of their army remained intact and still advancing. He wasn't looking for individual kills. Those wouldn't make a difference here. He needed something more significant. Something that would tip the scales.

A volley of arrows whistled overhead, and Xander ducked reflexively as they thudded into the earth nearby. The ranged attackers were relentless, volley after volley raining down on the defenders. He glimpsed Mason nearby, his usual stoic demeanor barely visible beneath the strain. Despite everything, Mason still fought with an unnatural energy, directing his men while firing off his shots from the crossbow he was wielding toward the incoming undead.

"Keep it together!" Xander called. They couldn't afford to lose focus now. Not with the horde so close.

Mason gave a quick thumbs up, wiping the sweat from his brow before sending another burst of energy into the fray. "We've got this, Xander! Just don't let them through."

Xander wasn't sure he agreed with Mason on that point, as their defenses were quickly becoming overwhelmed. However, he was unwilling to disagree openly with the man in the middle of the siege. The last thing Xander felt they needed was for a moral issue to cause people to panic. Thoughts become actions his father used to remind him. If you think you're going to fail, then you will fail.

A crash of bones and armor brought Xander's attention back to the frontline. Several undead had bypassed the trench and were now engaging the defenders directly and trying to raise ladders to climb the fortifications. Xander lunged forward, his spear driving into the chest of an armored corpse. The undead soldier staggered halfway up the ladder, but its eyes still glowed, its decayed hand reaching out for Xander's throat. He yanked the spear free and drove it home again, twisting, ensuring the creature wouldn't rise again. Across the palisades, more leaders slammed into place. Undead swarmed over the top to engage the defenders in hand-to-hand combat.

"Push them off the walls!" Xander shouted, his voice commanding as he withdrew his spear and repositioned. He could feel the pressure of the battle closing in, the relentless push of the undead testing their defenses. The fire from the trench had bought them precious time, but now the fight was at their doorstep.

"Harvey," Xander called out, his voice loud enough to carry over the chaos. "See anything unusual?"

Harvey, standing nearby with his massive war hammer in hand, was already smashing through a wave of undead that had slipped onto the walkway behind him. Bones cracked and splintered under the weight of his strikes, but he spared Xander a glance. "Just more of the same so far," he grunted, twisting to bring his hammer down on another skull. "They're not throwing anything special at us yet."

"Yet," Xander echoed under his breath. He remained unconvinced. His instincts told him there was more to this battle than what they were seeing. He just hadn't found it yet.

Xander's eyes scanned the battlefield again. Among the mass of undead melee fighters and archers, something caught his eye. A small group of undead that didn't move like the others. They advanced slower, more deliberately. Their armor was different. They moved as a unit and weren't archers or mindless foot soldiers.

"Harvey, look!" Xander gestured toward the group. "There!"

Harvey paused mid-swing to glance in the direction Xander pointed. "I see them." His voice took on a grim edge. "Something's off with those."

Xander narrowed his eyes. These undead weren't the usual fodder.Whatever they were, they were important, and their destruction could turn the tide. Then he saw it; they weren't some type of command-rank undead but sappers.

[Analyze] Undead Engineer | Level: 15 Rare | Status: Hostile | Class: Engineer
[Analyze] Undead Sapper | Level: 15 Rare | Status: Hostile | Class: Sapper
[Analyze] Undead Sapper | Level: 17 Rare | Status: Hostile | Class: Sapper

"Well, shit," Xander said. "Sappers! Quickly, before they reach the wall!"

Without waiting for a response from anyone, Xander lept over the wall, weaving through the battlefield. He dodged a stray arrow, then ducked under a clumsy swing from another undead before driving his spear through its exposed ribcage. Harvey followed, his war hammer smashing aside anything that dared step into their path.

It was too late, Xander thought. He was still ten meters away when the sappers reached the wall. The explosion tore through the night like a thunderclap, deafening and violent. One moment, Xander was racing toward the fight, and the next, the ground beneath him buckled. The force of the blast sent him sprawling, lifting his body off the earth and hurling him backward. He slammed into the dirt hard; the air punching from his lungs, his vision spinning as debris rained down around him.

For several agonizing moments, there was nothing but disorientation. The explosion's shockwave caused his ears to ring and muffled the world. His body felt heavy, pinned by the weight of confusion and the thick cloud of smoke and dust that choked the air. The smell of burning wood filled his nostrils. He blinked, trying to focus through the swirling haze. His fingers dug into the earth, pushing against the ground as he struggled to pull himself upright.

"Harvey…" Xander's voice came out as a hoarse rasp, barely audible over the fading roar of the blast.

The ringing in his ears dulled slightly, replaced by the chaos of battle. Clashing steel, shouting defenders, and the inhuman screeches of the undead. He forced himself onto his knees, coughing, his body protesting every movement. His head throbbed, but there was no time to check for injuries.

"Harvey!" Xander called again, louder this time, his vision still swimming. He looked around, blinking against the dust.

Through the debris, he finally spotted him. Harvey lay sprawled on the ground a few feet away, motionless at first, but then Xander saw his hand twitch. Relief flooded through Xander, but it was short-lived. He staggered to his feet, muscles burning from the effort, and stumbled toward Harvey, yanking him up by the arm. The big man grunted as he got to his knees, shaking his head to clear the fog. His eyes met Xander's, dazed but sharp.

"They've breached," Harvey growled, his voice rough as he took in the surrounding scene. His eyes took in the sight of the gaping hole in the palisade wall, where chunks of wood and stone lay scattered like broken teeth. Beyond it, the undead poured in like an endless, rotting tide.

The defenders had been holding the line, but now… now they were broken. The undead, once held at bay by the walls, were inside. He could hear the screams from the courtyard behind the wall, the panicked shouts of men and women trying to regroup.

This was the moment. The moment when everything fell apart.

"Get up," Xander urged, his voice strained as he hauled Harvey fully to his feet. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. There was no time to dwell on the breach or the flood of enemies pouring through it. They were on the wrong side of the wall, exposed, and the undead were closing in.

Harvey wiped the blood from his face, glancing around. "Damn it, Xander. This is bad. Really bad."

Xander nodded grimly. There was no need to state the obvious. The defenders on the palisades above them were firing desperately, arrows and bolts raining down into the undead horde. But it wasn't enough. The gap in the wall was too broad, the enemy too many.

They had to get back inside. Fast.

"There!" Xander shouted, pointing toward a ladder propped against the wall a few paces away. It was likely placed there by the undead that had already scaled the palisade earlier, but it was their only option.

"Go!" Harvey barked, shoving Xander forward as the two broke into a run.

The ground trembled beneath their feet, the weight of the advancing undead pressing in on them from all sides. Xander's legs screamed with each step, the blast having drained much of his strength, but he pushed through it, his grip tightening on his warpick. He had lost his spear somewhere in the chaos, but the weapon in his hand would do.

Just a few feet from the ladder, an undead soldier lunged toward them, its decayed form barely recognizable as human. Xander barely had time to react, twisting his body and driving the point of his warpick into the creature's chest. It staggered, eyes glowing that sickly green, but Xander didn't let up. With a growl, he ripped the weapon free, sending the corpse crumpling to the ground in a heap.

"Move!" Harvey shouted from behind, swinging his massive war hammer into another undead that had veered too close.

They reached the ladder, both men slamming into it with enough force to make it shake. Xander gripped the rungs tightly, the rough wood slick with blood and grime, and climbed. Each step was agonizing, his muscles screaming in protest, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

An arrow whizzed past his head, narrowly missing him before thudding into the chest of an undead below. The defenders were barely holding the wall, but their efforts gave Xander and Harvey a sliver of time to escape.

Halfway up, Xander felt a surge of dread. He glanced down just in time to see another undead, a soldier with half its face missing, clawing at the bottom of the ladder. Its bony fingers stretched upward, grasping at his legs.

Before it could get a grip, a bolt from the palisades above struck the creature in the skull. It fell back into the mass below, disappearing into the sea of bodies. Xander didn't allow himself to feel relief. He climbed faster, his heart hammering in his chest.

At the top of the ladder, Harvey was already pulling himself over the edge. Xander followed, his arms burning as he hauled himself onto the battlements. For a moment, he collapsed on the wall, gasping for air, his vision narrowing. The adrenaline was the only thing keeping him moving.

"Up," Harvey grunted, pulling him to his feet.

Xander looked back down at the courtyard below. The breach was massive. Through the gap in the wall, he could see the horde pouring in, endless and overwhelming. The defenders were barely holding on, their lines buckling under the weight of the undead assault. The sheer volume of enemies made Xander's stomach drop. There were too many. Even with the palisade defenses, even with their best efforts, it wouldn't be enough.

"We're not gonna hold," Harvey muttered beside him, his voice grim. Xander could hear the despair in his tone and could feel it echoing in his heart. For all their preparation, for all their courage, it was slipping through their fingers.

"We have to…" Xander started, but his words died in his throat.

Harvey's arm shot out, pointing toward the horizon, and when Xander followed his gaze, his blood ran cold.

Looming in the distance, barely visible through the smoke and darkness, was a shadow. It was enormous, with ragged wings that stretched wide against the sky. Its eyes burned with the same green light that filled the undead ranks below, but brighter and more intense. The ground seemed to tremble as it walked, its maw opening wide in a roar that instilled fear in everyone who heard it.

[Analyze] Boneflame Wyrm | Level: 20 Elite | Status: Enraged | Class: Dragon

Xander's breath caught in his chest. It was a nightmare made flesh, the kind of creature that you'd only seen in video games or some fantasy novel. And it was heading straight for them.

[Fear Aura] Resisted!

Harvey swore under his breath. "We're in deep now."

Xander couldn't speak. The sight of the dragon, its presence alone, filled him with a cold, sinking dread. This was no longer just a battle. This was annihilation. The defenders below, the men and women fighting desperately to hold the line. They didn't stand a chance, no matter how hard Lyra had tried to convince him otherwise.

And neither did he.