"Alar is right!"
Jazz rose beside him, a tower of a man with his shield already back in hand.
He slammed it twice against the ground.
"I am not tired!"
"I have energy to spare!"
His eyes were red, his breathing heavy, as though someone had injected him with stimulants.
"Frontier Marshal, Voidbeasts are most active at night."
"This is when they gather in the greatest numbers."
"It is like..."
Jazz struggled for several seconds before finally forcing out a comparison.
"It is like the grand opening of an all you can eat buffet. If we arrive too late, someone else will have licked every plate clean!"
Joren stared at him.
So that was the truth at last.
"Everyone."
He made one final attempt to stop them.
"We are deep inside the Fallen Zone."
"Visibility is worse at night, and the Voidbeasts become more vicious."
"My Mental Force is limited too. If something happens..."
"Nothing will happen!"
Dax stepped forward.
"Frontier Marshal, leave it to us."
"We do not need to stay within the range of your Mental Force."
"We will be more careful this time."
"Even if we have to crawl, we will drag those Voidbeasts out for you."
He paused and rubbed his fingers together with a slightly embarrassed look.
"As long as..."
"As long as the Military Merit payments keep coming."
Well then.
If these people were this determined to work for him, what else could Joren say?
They were even willing to risk their lives for overtime.
"Fine."
He shrugged and sat back down on the roof of the armored vehicle.
"But hear this first."
His expression grew more serious.
"Night is ten times more dangerous than day."
"If any of you gets killed chasing a few Military Merit, do not expect me to reimburse the funeral."
"Heh!"
Alar turned toward the soldiers already itching to move and thrust one fist into the air.
"No one sleeps tonight!"
"Our goal is to empty the Frontier Marshal’s Military Merit account!"
"Empty it!"
"Empty it!"
Three thousand voices struck the night at once.
The roar shook loose part of a crumbling building nearby.
Anyone hearing them from a distance might have assumed they were about to tear the three beast kings apart with their bare hands.
Before Joren could give another order, the resting units had already reassembled.
No one wanted to leave late and watch another squad claim the best prey.
"Team One, with me! We are taking the unfinished towers to the east!"
"Team Three, head for the mall. There has to be a nest in there!"
"Stay away from that sewer. Team Five saw it first!"
More than a hundred combat squads poured from the stadium like sharks catching the scent of blood.
Their backs were filled with longing for wealth and hope for a better life.
Joren watched them disappear into the night and could not help sighing.
"Tch."
Kyo appeared beside him without warning.
The Half Step Rank Six expert was looking at Joren as though he had discovered a particularly strange creature.
"You know, Antares Command has existed in Norcrest for fifty years."
"I have never seen them this eager."
"This method of throwing money at people is inspired."
Joren smiled and lit a cigarette.
"You are wrong, Kyo."
"This is not throwing money around."
"It is a properly designed performance incentive system."
"Once the rewards are distributed correctly, everyone becomes a war god."
Kyo paused.
Then his laughter rolled across the stadium.
"I finally understand why Manester insisted on forcing this position onto you."
"Your methods are a little wild, but they work."
Joren watched the last squads vanish among the ruins.
There was one thing he had not said.
Their eagerness came from trust.
They trusted that Joren could protect them.
They trusted that once a target was found, his blade would arrive before death did.
That trust had been purchased with the heads of two Rank Five enemies.
And Joren valued it more than anything else.
"If they are going to work this hard..."
He stood and stretched, a sharp light passing through his eyes.
"I cannot afford to fall behind."
Buzz.
An invisible wave of Mental Force spread from him like a rising tide, sweeping outward into the night.
...
Deep within the Fallen Zone, atop an abandoned skyscraper, a massive shadow lay across a swaying billboard.
It was more than ten meters long.
Eight scarlet eyes looked down over the dead city.
A middle stage Rank Four Voidbeast.
Demonface Spider.
It was not the only ruler of this area.
Three kilometers east, near the entrance of an underground shopping complex, an Ironspike Dragon had claimed its own territory.
Farther away lurked a Frostmaw Crocodile.
Each possessed its own domain, and under normal circumstances they avoided one another.
Tonight, all three were restless.
Hiss.
The Demonface Spider ground its mouthparts together, producing a sharp and irritated rasp.
Voidbeasts often fought over territory or mates, but never with noise like this.
Then all eight eyes contracted.
Several beams of light had flashed through the ruins in the distance.
Light?
The spider hesitated.
It had taken part in enough sieges to recognize human searchlights.
What were humans doing here?
The Ironspike Dragon and Frostmaw Crocodile noticed the same thing.
Even before that monster named Joren appeared, human armies had only dared defend from behind their walls.
They had never entered the Fallen Zone openly.
Now they had marched in with lights blazing.
They were even using searchlights.
"Roar!"
The Ironspike Dragon reacted first.
Its furious bellow erupted from the direction of the underground mall.
It felt like a master waking in his own home to find a swarm of ants holding torches and throwing a party in his living room.
An unforgivable insult.
The last Beast Tide had failed, yes.
But that defeat had come at the hands of the young monster who fought like a demon god.
Not these ordinary human soldiers.
Did they truly believe Rank Four commanders were harmless?
Had they grown bold enough to invade its territory?
The Ironspike Dragon smashed through the concrete pillars at the mall entrance.
Boom!
The ground trembled.
Its enormous body charged forward, every spike along its back standing upright as it tore toward the distant lights.
It would teach these humans what cruelty meant.
The ruler of the underground mall came storming through the ruins with all the rage of something dragged from sleep.
Like a heavy tank with no brakes, it crushed everything in its path.
"Roar!"
Its huge tail swept sideways and pulverized a concrete utility pole.
It wanted blood.
It wanted those reckless humans to understand who ruled this place.
The scene had already formed clearly in its mind.
The instant the humans saw its towering body, they would lose control of themselves.
They would scream.
They would fall to their knees and shake, begging for mercy.
Then it would crush them one by one beneath its feet.
Slowly.
Elegantly.
The thought alone made every spike across its body quiver with excitement.
In the darkness behind it, eight scarlet eyes watched.
The Demonface Spider did not share the dragon’s impatience.
It crept silently along the outer wall of a building, keeping to the shadows.
Its plan was simple.
Let the Ironspike Dragon scatter the humans first.
Then it could descend at leisure and feed on the terrified survivors.
A perfect hunt.