BTE (64) — The Nightmare Never Ends IX (Patreon)

Everyone heard a loud boom and watched as the security shutter was torn apart with animalistic ferocity. Metal screamed as it twisted and shattered, filling the room with an ear-splitting cacophony.

They all stood there, stunned, as more than a dozen monstrous beings burst inside, their bloodshot eyes gleaming in the dark like hungry fireflies. It was as if every Galvathian in the airport had gathered right in front of Leandro. 

"Hello~" One of the reptilian-looking monsters grinned at Leandro, baring its jagged teeth at him. “Not talking anymore?”

"Ah, I see the circus has come to town." Leandro drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes swept over each one of them. "And here I was thinking we might have some intelligent company."

The creature snarled, taking a menacing step forward. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

Leandro tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips. "Clever enough to realize you’re not worth the effort it takes to mock you properly. But you came here for a purpose, so take up that stick you call a spear and swing it at me.”

"Tsk! You insolent piece of shi—" The Galvathan stopped, its words catching in his throat when Leandro vanished from view, a flicker of white, and appeared in the next moment behind it.

Leandro smiled at the others, his hand gripping the creature by its scaly shoulder. The Galvathian hadn’t even noticed him move, let alone seen him. "You should keep that mouth of yours shut, boy. Such a big talker for a cute little thing as yourself."

Before the reptilian could even process the insult, a flash of silver went through the air. A flash, and then it found itself staring at the headless corpse of a reptilian on the floor. ‘Huh… is that me?’

Blood spurted from the creature's neck in an arch. Leandro had a clean decapitation on his hands—a nice clean cut right across the throat. He shook the blood off of his hand.

The rest of the Galvthians knew better than to get any closer to Leandro after witnessing the scene unfold before them, but the fool that was closest to Leandro moved quickly to the side, raising its claw in a panic—

And then stopped dead in its tracks when the air suddenly turned sharp, when a bright silvery flash swept through the room.

It happened in a blink of an eye.

Before it knew it, the creature felt its body cut in half, blood spraying all over the floor as a thin, crescent of energy sliced its waist, like gutting a fish. Its top half was separated from its legs, its torso now sliding down on top of its waist. 

The monster blinked.

It died miserably a few moments after.

The room went silent after that, except for the dripping of blood.

The rest of the Galvathians, after the momentary bout of surprise, growled threateningly and drew out their guns—sleek, dark metal with glowing runes etched into the barrels. Leandro’s pupils shrunk; time slowed down. There were roughly almost twenty of them, pointing their guns not only at him, but at everyone behind him as well.

A breath slowly left Leandro’s lips. It echoed off in his ears like a rush of wind. 

The monsters—in his mindscape—seemed immobile. Should he move, engage in a quick melee? No. Not enough time. Another sword form, maybe? No. Too many of them; if even one of them survived, he couldn’t ensure a stray beam wouldn’t hit one of the girls. The creatures were spread out. Around 16 of them. He had to be quick and efficient. 

His Aura swirled like a storm inside of him. It churned painfully for something it wasn’t quite ready yet.

A headache was coming. 

Fuck it. 

His pupils constricted further and his sword blurred, his figure a bright light that was almost like a bolt of lightning in the dark room. Energy was stored and released in a quick burst. Those wisps of energy followed a predetermined path in the air, coalescing into familiar shapes. 

Moonblade Style — 8th form — Waning Crescent. 

Behind Leandro, ethereal blades of lunar light materialized and multiplied, quicker than the eye could perceive. They tipped down, poised to strike. The air around them hummed and cracked with pulses of bright light. 

The Galvathians had long sensed the danger coming off him and unleashed a barrage of laser jets that, under any other circumstance, could have turned a tank into swiss cheese. With a gesture of Leandro’s hand, the hovering lunar swords sped forth, colliding and relentlessly slicing through the bright, crimson beams. 

A shower of magma-hot embers, the residuals of sliced Galvathian ammunition, flew through the air. 

The reptilians cried out in surprise, then in absolute pain. 

“Gaaaah!!”

“Ughk!”

“I-Impossible… who are y—!!”

Carnival came early this year for Leandro and the Galvathians. Except that he used their reptilian bodies like confetti cannons; limbs flew high up in the air. And their cheers were not of celebration, but agony. 

One by one, they were stabbed, bisected, and beheaded. Whether they tried to fight until the end or flee. 

Each ethereal blade struck its mark with deadly accuracy. They tore through scales and sinew, leaving behind a gruesome pile of dismembered bodies and splattering blood. The blades danced in the air, dicing and slicing. It was a whirlwind of death. 

The residual force of Leandro’s Waning Crescent tore through the tiles of the floor, upending it. The walls sported many fissures, a web of cracking that led up to the ceiling, the latter of which shook under the onset. 

Leandro felt the force of his skill drain his Aura. It took a significant toll on him. His body ached, his shoulders sagging a bit. Fortunately, he could still keep going, but it was an expenditure he could only make one more.

His eyes quickly scanned for threats. There were none. The reptilian beasts lay dismembered and bisected on the floor. They twitched a bit as blood gushed from their severed limbs and bleeding stumps. He wished he could have spared a couple for the others, but he couldn’t risk their lives. 

Then his gaze roamed over the others; no one was injured, not even Alfred. Good.

"Are you okay, Mom?" He asked.

Myeong felt dizzy. Her ears were still ringing from the sheer force of Leandro's sword. But she still smiled. "I... yeah. I am... and you?"

"All good."

Hari and Nari stood there in stunned silence. Yuhee, Yuna and Bada were further back, yet their hearts were pounding hard in their chest. It took them all a moment to process the carnage.

Hari, of the two sisters, was the first to react. She stepped forward and embraced Leandro's waist, her soft bosom pressed against his lower back. “Leandro, you’re a little pale…” 

“I’m going to be fine, Noona.” He assured her; his Aura would slowly regenerate, so it wasn’t the end of the world. His gaze swept over the room. The place had turned into a massacre. 

Yuhee stepped up, her eyes staring at the severed bodies and the bloodied floor.

Those mighty and arrogant lizard motherfuckers were all diced up like onions

Leandro really showed no mercy to his foes, Yuhee thought. It was not about the way he calmly killed them, it was the method as well. It was almost like magic, and maybe it was. 

How much despair did they feel before they died? A strange feeling bubbled in her stomach. It was not a new one—she was already accustomed to it. It was a familiar heat. One she knew all too well. The adrenaline in her blood spiked as she recalled the fight that happened moments before.

“Everyone, you might as well pick up their guns for self-defense. It’s not like they need it any longer.” Leandro said, gesturing at the Galvathian rifles lying in puddles of alien blood. “Be careful, though. These are powerful weapons, so they might hurt you by accident. Get a feel of them first and don't randomly shoot, especially if you're all huddled up. I'd rather not scrape someone's remains off the ground."

The vivid imagery of his words made all of them wince slightly.

Yuna went first and grabbed one of the guns. Despite the appearance, it didn't weigh a lot. It was sleek, black, and futuristic. The glowing runes on the barrels hummed with energy.

She had handled guns before, so she quickly got to grips with it. "They are... very light."

Nari grabbed a rifle, pointing the barrel upwards, carefully observing the weapon in her hand. Hari hesitated, but ended up holding one tightly in her hands. Yuhee was ecstatic; no surprise there. Bada curiously inspected it, before she reenacted some sort of 007 action sequence. 

Myeong geared herself up nicely, a look of determination in her face. 

Leandro stored a couple of rifles and spears in his inventory, just in case. There was no ammunition—he figured the runes were what powered the guns. It didn’t matter. For now his sword would do.

Alfred was dutifully assisted walking, courtesy of Myeong and Yuna. 

“I must stress this. Do not be afraid of shooting those things. They are powerful, and if they get the opportunity, they will shoot first. Be ready, always, but also remember to remain calm and composed. Understood?"

The girls nodded in unison. They cut quite the figure in their disheveled, armed up selves. Leandro stared at the destroyed shutter. Only a few working lights were left functioning in the terminal, and even those were flickering. 

“Good. If we’re lucky, we might reap enough contribution points to get something nice out of it. Keep that in mind.”

••••••••••

Minhoo Lee, commander officer of the NPA, tucked a cigarette between his lips. He waited a half a second, out of pure habit, but Joon Park didn’t promptly light it up for him like the previous times. No, that bastard got himself killed. “Damn it..” He struggled with the lighter—his hand just wouldn’t stop trembling. 

The cigarette slipped off his lips. Ah, fuck. It was his last one too.

Shouts rang out all around him. Injured civilians and soldiers were dug out from beneath the debris, and then carried off in stretchers, either to be treated or mourned. 

“Minhoo.” 

With bleary, tired eyes, he looked at Kim Joon-seok, the outpost commander. He was a middle-aged, strong-looking man bedecked in the military’s uniform. Minhoo immediately snapped into a salute, though it lacked enthusiasm and was obviously mere formality. “Commander-nim!”

“At ease.” Joon-seok said with a sigh. 

He looked haggard, and more tired than Minhoo, but that was to be expected. 

Minhoo could not begin to understand the weight of the responsibilities the man must bear. He felt guilty, because all he wanted to do was run and hide. But his commander showed no signs of that.

In the distance, he saw the helicopter and soldiers taking the injured off, including some civilians. They were all fighting their own demons, too.

Kim Joon-seok pulled a pack of cigarettes out, and a lighter. He handed one over to Minhoo, and he promptly lit it up for him. Minhoo thanked him and took a long, satisfying drag, holding the smoke inside his chest for a bit, before slowly letting it out. 

The commander was about to light up his own when a young man interrupted them.

"Commander-nim."

"Yes, captain." He looked over at the man who had arrived. He had a hard face that had been through the ringer, with scars to match. "Have we figured out the situation?"

The man nodded grimly. "Affirmative, sir."

Joon-seok paused and closed his eyes. He knew what it was about. "Speak."

"Our air defense failed us, but there were a couple of pilots brave enough to fight against them." The man started, his eyes turning down. "Our army was overwhelmed, but a couple of squadrons were able to regroup. However..."

Joon-seok's expression darkened. "Yes?"

"...Most of them didn't make it, Commander-nim. Seoul's downtown is completely in disarray, with little to no military presence to combat the threat. And that thing is up there, watching. It hasn’t made a move yet, it’s as if it’s waiting for something.”

The man's jaw clenched as his eyes darted back up and stared at Joon-seok with an expectant gaze.

A heavy silence followed, broken by a sharp exhale of smoke by Minhoo, who then glanced at the commander.

The man looked tired, and in great conflict with himself, but he showed no other signs of what he felt. He put out the cigarette on his fingers before flinging it into an overflowing trash bin. "Any news on those so-called Challengers? Weren't they supposed to help?"

The captain hesitated. "That's the issue, Commander-nim. Our beloved Korea has only a handful of Challengers readily available, and they're hardly qualified to hold guns. If... if we hadn't restricted the access to the Tower, we might have had more. 

"......"

That was a valid criticism. Joon-seok felt like laughing. He had to face it, help wasn't coming. “What about that elite team those fellows were hyping up?” 

“They perished whilst attempting to clear the 2nd floor. Due to that team’s specialization and preparedness, we believe there might have been foul play involved.”

Joon-seok closed his eyes, briefly. His brow furrowed with an unspoken weight. The Tower was no laughing matter. If this was just the 2nd floor… how could they ever hope to overcome the threats posed by the other floors?

"So we have no other reliable manpower deployable, correct?" Joon-seok asked the captain, already knowing the answer.

The man looked at a loss for words. He knew it himself. They had nothing to fight against this monster, except a few remaining troops who might or might not last long enough to even see the monster. "Our reserves are already fighting around the country. It will be days before they reach Seoul. But, if that thing stays in its position and does not attack the outskirts of Seoul, there might be a chance, Commander-nim. However, if it does..."

There was fear in the captain's eyes.

"We are helpless."

Minhoo's eyes glittered slightly. Come to think of it. “Hmm… there might be someone, Commander-nim.”

He remembered.

He remembered that young man, that day, a sword in his hand. He didn’t even know why he thought of him, maybe it was the long-lasting impression he left on him. Yeah, maybe…

But even if it was him, could he do anything by himself? What could a sword, a lump of sharpened steel, achieve against a gun? 

“No, nevermind. Forget about it.”

“Now that I think about it—” The captain spoke, a frown on his face. “I’ve overheard some of the civilians speaking about someone with a sword in hand fighting these monsters. I dismissed it as an overexaggerated tale, but after some time, more people started to talk about it.” He chuckled, not really buying it. “They said he could cut those creatures down with bright rays of light.” 

Everyone shook their heads at the ridiculousness of it.

But not Commander Joon-seok. He had a pensive frown on his face.