Chapter 118: Chapter 118: Attacking Virel City (part 2)

Hundreds of them, moving as one. Armor glinted under torchlight. Weapons rose and fell in rhythm. And at the front, something massive was slamming against the gates over and over again.

Each impact shook the wall beneath their feet.

For a brief moment, even Caelus went still.

“…How the hell,” he muttered.

Rhett’s grip tightened around his weapon, his eyes locking onto the battlefield below.

“That many…” he said quietly.

Another crash echoed upward.

Wood cracked. Metal groaned.

Caelus snapped out of it first.

“Everyone, hold your positions!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Archers, keep firing! Aim for the ones climbing!”

The soldiers around him reacted immediately.

“Yes, sir!”

Arrows rained down once more, sharper and more focused this time.

“Don’t waste shots!” Caelus continued. “Go for their joints. Slow them down if you can’t stop them!”

Rhett stepped forward, resting one foot on the edge of the wall as he looked down.

His eyes burned.

“They just keep coming,” he said.

Caelus moved beside him, his expression hard.

“They don’t feel fear. They don’t feel pain. That’s what makes them dangerous.”

Another impact slammed into the gates.

Louder this time.

A crack spread across the surface, visible even from above.

A soldier nearby panicked. “Sir, the gate won’t hold!”

“It will hold as long as we make it,” Caelus snapped. “Get the barricades ready behind it! If it breaks, we fall back in order, not in panic!”

“Yes, sir!”

Rhett let out a slow breath, then jumped down from the wall platform to the inner side, landing heavily.

“I’m going down there,” he said.

Caelus turned sharply. “Are you insane? That’s a swarm, not a fight!”

Rhett looked back at him.

For a second, that same hollow fire burned in his eyes.

“I know.”

He tightened his grip.

“But if that thing breaks through…”

Another crash interrupted him.

The gate shook violently. Splinters flew.

“…then we’re not holding this from up here.”

Caelus clenched his jaw.

Rhett didn’t wait for Caelus to finish.

He took the stairs, boots slamming hard against the stone as he descended. The sounds above faded behind him, replaced by something louder.

Closer.

The gate.

Another impact shook the entire entrance hall. Dust fell from the ceiling. The wooden beams groaned like they were about to snap.

Rhett stepped into position just a few meters behind the gate, planting his feet firmly. Around him, soldiers scrambled into formation, shields raised, spears trembling in their grip.

“Hold the line!” one of the captains shouted, though his voice cracked midway.

Rhett didn’t look at them.

His eyes were locked on the gate.

Another hit.

A deep crack split across its surface.

Then one more.

The gate exploded inward.

Wood and iron burst apart, fragments flying across the entrance as something crashed through from the outside.

For a split second, everything went quiet.

Then the skeletons flooded in.

They came in waves, crawling over the broken remains, climbing over each other just to get inside. Hollow eyes glowing faintly, weapons raised without hesitation.

“Hold!” the captain shouted.

The soldiers braced.

Then the clash began.

Spears pierced through ribcages. Swords shattered skulls. The first line of skeletons fell quickly, their bodies collapsing into piles of broken remains.

Rhett moved.

Fast.

His blade cut through the first skeleton cleanly, splitting it in half before it even fully stepped inside. He didn’t stop. Another swing crushed a skull. A third tore an arm clean off.

He didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t slow down.

One after another, the skeletons fell.

And then something changed.

A soldier nearby froze for a moment, staring at the ground.

“Wait… they’re not getting back up…”

Another one noticed.

“They’re not reviving!”

The words spread like fire.

“They’re not reviving!”

“They stay down!”

A surge of excitement rushed through the defenders.

“That’s it! That’s why we lost last time!”

“They kept coming back!”

“But now… now they die!”

Morale shifted in an instant.

Fear turned into aggression.

“Push them back!”

“Don’t let them inside!”

The soldiers roared as they fought harder, striking faster, no longer holding back.

Rhett didn’t react to their voices.

He was already deep in it.

His movements grew faster, sharper, almost reckless. His blade swung again and again, cutting down anything in front of him.

Bone cracked.

Bodies fell.

He stepped forward with every kill, pushing deeper into the incoming wave instead of holding the line.

“Sir Rhett! Stay in formation!” someone shouted behind him.

He didn’t listen.

His breathing grew heavier, but his movements didn’t slow.

“For Lira…” he muttered under his breath.

A skeleton lunged at him.

He tore it apart.

Another came from the side.

He crushed its skull without even looking.

More followed.

He cut through them like they were nothing.

There was something wrong in the way he fought. Too aggressive.

Like he wasn’t trying to survive, like he didn’t care if he did.

The soldiers around him noticed it too.

“He’s… he’s going too far!”

“He’s going to get surrounded!”

And then it happened, the wave shifted.

The weaker skeletons stopped coming forward.

For a brief moment, there was space.

Rhett stepped into it without hesitation, his chest rising and falling as he looked up.

And that was when they came.

The ground shifted slightly as heavier footsteps approached from the other side.

Not like the others.

Then the first one stepped forward.

A bronze-grade undead.

Its body was sturdier, movements more controlled, its presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. The faint aura of body tempering surrounded it, subtle but unmistakable.

Then another stepped out beside it.

And another.

Twenty of them stood behind the front line.

Aiden’s summons.

Rhett narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening.

“…You’re all here.”

The first one moved.

Fast.

Faster than the others.

Rhett barely had time to react before its strike came down.

He blocked it, but the impact still forced him back a step, his boots scraping hard against the ground.

“…Good,” he muttered.

Then he moved again.

Their clash was completely different.

The bronze-grade undead not breaking apart like the others. Rhett’s blade cut into it, but the wound did not slow it down. Dark energy flickered, and the damaged area began to mend.

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