The tension in the base was suffocating. Every soldier, every vilger, even the wind itself seemed to hold its breath. The air carried an unnatural weight, thick with the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang of approaching danger. Somewhere beyond the fortified walls, a fierce aura was condensing—an omen of the beasts that would soon descend upon them.

  Mary stood at the edge of the watchtower, her fingers clenched so tightly around the railing that her knuckles turned white. She was a widow. Her husband had fallen in the st beast tide. Even now, she could remember the proud look on his face when he first awakened his martial spirit.

  "I will protect you and our son. I promise."

  But promises meant nothing to the tide.

  She let out a shaky breath. In this world, only nobles were born with the privilege of awakening their martial spirits at six years old. Commoners, on the other hand, could only awaken when their bodies absorbed soul power from sin beasts. It was unpredictable, cruel even—most commoners never awakened at all. And even if they did, their martial spirits were usually simple things—bdes, nces, needles—cking attributes, unable to compare to noble bloodlines.

  A tremor shook the ground.

  Mary’s heart lurched. In the distance, the dense fog of soul energy began to take shape. Snake-like creatures slithered into view, their bodies unnaturally long and glistening like oiled leather. Their crimson eyes burned with madness, and their forked tongues flicked greedily at the air. There were so many of them.

  "They’re here."

  From atop the gate, a powerful voice thundered.

  “DEFEND THE BASE!”

  Lord Brandon’s command rang through the air, his presence like an unshakable pilr. The soldiers roared in unison, their martial spirits fring to life. Swords gleamed, spears hummed with soul power. Though their spirits cked elemental attributes, they stood firm, bracing for impact.

  The battle erupted like a thundercp.

  The first wave of snake-beasts lunged, their bodies twisting and writhing like demonic tendrils. Soldiers swung their weapons, severing scaled bodies, but the creatures refused to die easily. Some bled bck ichor, their wounds hissing, regenerating at unnatural speeds.

  Mary's breath hitched. The front lines were breaking.

  Suddenly, a gentle glow bathed the battlefield in shimmering light.

  A luminous fluorescent mushroom floated above, releasing a cascade of warm, golden spores. Where the spores touched, wounds closed. Soldiers gasped as their fatigue melted away, their weary limbs surging with renewed strength. A battle cry erupted from their ranks.

  “It’s Madam Banitar!” someone shouted.

  Banitar Nitiditas Mycetum stood at the backline, her eyes alight with power. Her first soul ring—Soothing Spore—was a blessing upon the battlefield. Under her glow, the soldiers surged forward once more, their morale bzing.

  Then—

  A chilling, inhuman screech cut through the chaos.

  From the depths of the beast horde, a figure emerged.

  Its humanoid upper body loomed over the battlefield, its greenish skin rippling like liquid. The lower half of its body remained that of a massive serpent, coils unduting like shifting dunes. Its blood-red eyes gleamed with cruel intelligence.

  The leader of the tide had arrived.

  A shockwave burst forth as the beast howled, sending soldiers staggering backward. The walls groaned under the force of the vibration. Dust rained from above.

  Lord Brandon stepped forward, eyes cold as steel. His soul rings glowed—

  “First Soul Ring: Spore Arrows!”

  In an instant, thousands of tiny spores condensed into razor-sharp arrows, whistling through the air toward the monstrous leader.

  But the creature sneered—a hideous, distorted expression.

  With a single sh of its tail, it sacrificed a dozen of its own kind, using their writhing bodies as a shield. The spore-arrows struck, sinking into flesh. The lesser beasts howled, their bodies rotting away in seconds, poisoned by the spores.

  But the leader remained unscathed.

  Or so it thought.

  A moment ter, bck tendrils sprouted from its own scales. The spores had stuck.

  Brandon’s eyes fshed.

  “Second Soul Ring: Poisonous Bind.”

  The spores grew into twisting, vine-like mushrooms, wrapping around the beast’s body like unbreakable chains. The creature screamed, its flesh sizzling where the tendrils touched. A horrid greenish hue spread across its skin as the poison took effect.

  Victory was within reach.

  But—

  From within the base, two snake-beasts had slipped through.

  A young girl’s ugh rang out like silver bells.

  Linder Psychios Mycetum stood in their path, grinning from ear to ear.

  She had expected to just watch.

  But now?

  Her first real fight.

  The creatures lunged at her from both sides, their fangs dripping with venom.

  Blueish-pink soul power erupted from Linder’s body. Her martial spirit—a psychedelic mushroom—hovered above her, its glow warping the air around it.

  Her fist clenched, wrapped in pulsating energy.

  With a fierce kick, she sent one beast crashing into the wall. Before it could recover, she spun—her soul-powered punch smming into the second creature’s head. Its skull cracked, ichor spttering across the ground.

  The remaining beast hissed, rearing back for a final strike.

  Linder only grinned wider.

  With a burst of soul power, she leapt forward—

  And with a single, crushing punch—

  The battle was over.

  She stood amidst the fallen creatures, chest heaving, a wild exhiration coursing through her veins. She was still only a child.

  But she had won.

  —

  Outside the walls, the final moments of the battle unfolded.

  Lord Brandon stepped toward the bound serpent leader, his expression unreadable. The creature was writhing now, its strength fading.

  He raised his hand.

  And with a single, decisive strike—

  The beast’s life ended.

  A pure white soul ring emerged from its corpse, hovering in the air.

  Linder rushed to her father’s side, eyes alight with curiosity.

  “Now what, Father?” she asked, excitement in her voice.

  Brandon chuckled, but before he could answer, Banitar’s voice drifted in from behind them.

  “We must seal it into a ring gem, darling,” she said smoothly. “A white soul ring isn’t beneficial for direct absorption. We’ll let your your friend, Smith Bckmish, embed it into a soul weapon.”

  Linder scrunched her nose. “He’s not my friend, Mother. He’s older than my father!”

  Brandon ughed. “Yes, yes, your mother is just joking, dear.” He ruffled her hair. “You should find more friends your own age.”

  The sun began to rise over the secured base, casting golden hues over the battlefield.

  Linder stared at the fallen creatures, then at her own small hands, still pulsing with soul power.

  This was only the beginning.

  Her first battle.

  Her first victory.

  And one day—

  She would be even stronger.