"Could you tell us that story?"

A few days ago, during a night camp while heading to the no-man's land, Roberto had brought up the topic. As usual, Maxime, Roberto, and Paola spent their brief rest periods chatting idly. Paola shot Roberto a look as if to ask, "Why would you even ask that?" Roberto simply shrugged.

"We’re going to face it soon enough, aren’t we?"

He urged Paola to share more. Paola sighed and tossed a loose stone into the campfire.

"That was 15 years ago. My memory might not be exact."

"You’ve told us plenty of stories before. Don’t tell me you're suddenly going to claim you don’t remember now," Roberto teased, but Paola seemed more troubled than irritated. Maxime, also curious, tilted his head.

"Roberto’s right. We’ll be fighting it soon, so it wouldn’t hurt to know more beforehand."

Paola picked up another pebble and tossed it into the fire. Maxime and Roberto watched her movements closely, almost as if it were a child's prank or some kind of ritual. Paola squinted at the flickering flames.

"Honestly, I’m reluctant to talk about it because we’ll be facing it soon."

"What do you mean by that?" Roberto asked.

Paola scratched her head awkwardly.

"To be honest, if I tell you the truth, you probably won’t believe me. But if I understate it, you might underestimate what Behemoth truly is."

"Underestimate it?" Roberto pressed further.

"I mean, it’s not something to be taken lightly."

"Alright, alright, just tell us already, old man."

Paola grumbled that he shouldn’t have mentioned encountering Behemoth 15 years ago in the first place.

"Isn’t it just that you don’t want to remember it?"

"...If I’m being honest, that’s part of it."

Paola surprisingly admitted it openly, and Roberto fell silent. Everyone knew that behind Paola’s usual chatter and casual demeanor was an experienced knight who had faced countless horrors.

With the mood now heavy, Paola began to speak.

"What do you two know about Behemoth?"

Maxime and Roberto exchanged glances, furrowing their brows in thought.

"Well, all I know is that it’s a legendary monster," Roberto shrugged and listed what he knew.

"The myths say it’s the parent of all monsters. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s supposed to be incredibly ancient, if not the parent of all, then definitely a very old one."

Paola nodded quietly.

"I used to think it was just a creature from old tales. But when I got to the no-man's land, I found that everyone feared Behemoth’s existence."

"People kept saying things like, 'It was seen 15 years ago,' and all that," Maxime added. Paola responded with a faint sigh.

"Whatever you’re imagining, Behemoth is something beyond that."

Paola gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t fully explain it.

"I’m not even sure if we should call it a 'monster.' The first time I saw its outline on the horizon, even the most battle-hardened soldiers, who had fought day and night, froze in terror. They could only see its silhouette, but it was enough to send them trembling in fear."

Roberto shook his head in disbelief.

"It’s only natural to be scared of a powerful monster, especially if it’s something straight out of myth."

"If you had seen the caliber of warriors gathered that day, you wouldn’t be saying that."

Paola clicked his tongue in regret.

"What did it look like?" Maxime asked.

"...I’ve seen many monsters in my time, but none quite like it. If the word 'beast' were to take on a concrete form, it would probably look like Behemoth."

Though Paola had only seen it twice, Behemoth’s image was burned into his memory forever. In the wasteland, it stood like a king behind the countless legions of monsters, a towering nightmare on the horizon.

"It doesn’t resemble any monster you’ve ever seen. To me, it looked less like a living creature and more like a mountain of stone. Its body was jagged and seemed to be covered in obsidian. Every time it moved, the ground trembled."

Paola glanced at Maxime and Roberto, who were listening intently but clearly couldn’t quite picture it. He sighed, realizing they couldn’t grasp what he was describing.

"Well, I only saw it twice, but still."

"Was there a battle?" Maxime asked.

Paola’s expression darkened. Maxime immediately wondered if he had asked the wrong question, but Paola answered in a steady tone.

"Of the knights who participated in that battle 15 years ago... 80 percent of the casualties came from just one fight with Behemoth."

Paola threw another stone into the fire.

"I was lucky to survive. But I’m not sure if I’ll be lucky enough a second time."

The commander continued running back and forth along the wall, encouraging the soldiers and cutting down monsters that attempted to climb over. In less than 30 minutes since the battle had begun, the wall was drenched in the blood of both men and monsters.

Today’s attack was especially fierce. The monsters scaling the wall were far more numerous than usual. The commander prayed that this was just a one-time event and that the next day, the monster onslaught would subside.

Boiling oil spilled from the cauldrons, splashing over the faces of the monsters, causing several to fall writhing from the walls in agony. Those that continued to climb despite the pain slipped on the slick stones and fell to the same fate as their predecessors.

"Pour it...! Keep pouring as soon as the cauldrons are filled, don’t let them climb any higher!"

The commander shouted as he struck one of the cauldrons with his sword hilt, and the soldiers rushed to comply.

"Hey!"

"No...!"

A black shadow shot up over the wall. The monster, having leaped, descended directly toward the soldiers carrying the cauldrons. The commander immediately recognized the silhouette looming over him and cursed.

"Damn it-!"

It was too late. The wolf-like monster bared its teeth in a gruesome smile, its claws gleaming darkly. If it started rampaging on top of the wall, killing the soldiers, their defense would crumble in an instant.

With a battle cry, the commander hurled his sword to try to buy a moment’s delay, but it missed its mark.

The beast’s massive arm swung down like a guillotine toward the soldiers. The commander squeezed his eyes shut. This was the end. His heart sank.

Sslash.

The sound of steel slicing through flesh echoed. When the commander opened his eyes, the wolf monster’s head had been severed and its body was tumbling to the ground. Even as its head rolled, the monster’s body continued to twitch as though unaware of its decapitation.

"Sir Knight!"

"You’ve saved us!"

The commander looked in stunned disbelief at the pale-faced, golden-eyed knight who was casually holding the severed head of the wolf monster.

"Th-thank you..."

"Return to your command. The situation is urgent."

Maxime responded coolly. The commander fumbled to retrieve his sword, only to remember that he had thrown it in a failed attempt to stop the monster. He looked embarrassed, ashamed that the knight he had once dismissed as incompetent had saved his life.

But Maxime seemed to have forgotten that slight, as he kindly retrieved the fallen sword and handed it back to the commander.

"Give your orders to the soldiers."

Without another word, Maxime turned and walked away, leaving the commander standing there in stunned silence. Watching Maxime leave, the commander eventually raised his sword once more.

"Get the cauldrons moving again! The monsters are still climbing!"

The soldiers responded to his shout, once again hauling the cauldrons into place. Maxime watched for a moment, then let out a sigh of relief.

That section should be safe for now.

The wolf monster had clearly targeted the soldiers carrying the cauldrons. At first, it seemed like the monsters' only goal was to breach the wall, but more and more of them were displaying intelligent behavior.

"The reason must be..."

Maxime stared out beyond the wall. The wasteland stretched endlessly, filled with the teeming horde of monsters, and beyond that, the setting sun burned a deep red. The change in the monsters could only mean one thing: Behemoth was approaching.

Gripping his sword tightly, Maxime slashed open the belly of a monster that had just climbed the wall, spilling its entrails. At that moment, he heard Paola’s voice calling out to him from behind.

"Maxime! Damn it, man, don’t stray too far!"

Paola swung her mace, smashing the head of another monster as she shouted.

"You know it couldn’t be helped."

Maxime glanced at her, frustrated, and Paola sighed.

"You know it’s the vice-captain’s order. It’s not like I don’t trust you, but... besides,"

Paola narrowed her eyes as she looked at Maxime.

"You look exhausted. Are you forcing yourself to keep standing with that sword in your hand? Your eyes are glazed, and your legs look like they’re about to give out."

Maxime shook his head. He had unintentionally used some mana to close the distance on the werewolf. He ignored the searing pain from his scar, pretending not to notice it.

"I’m fine. It’s just fatigue."

Paola snorted.

"Funny how you seem to be 'just tired' a lot lately, Maxime. You were like that during the last training session too."

Maxime didn’t respond and instead focused on slicing through the next monster that leapt toward him. Paola shook her head as she watched him stagger slightly.

"I’ve had more than my fair share of soldiers and comrades who pushed themselves like that."

Paola casually swung her mace, crushing the head of another monster that had been about to pounce on Maxime.

"I used to nag them constantly, asking if they had a death wish, throwing their lives away like that. And do you know what happened to all of them?"

Paola swung her mace again, sending blood and entrails flying with a nauseating stench.

"Most of them ended up dead, just as I predicted. And not in battles where I was even present."

Paola’s tone carried a hint of frustration.

"I know you're skilled, Maxime, but I’d rather not see you meet the same fate. If you must push yourself, do it where I can keep an eye on you."

"Understood."

"Look at Roberto. As much as I hate to admit it, the guy is annoyingly good at looking out for himself. Maybe you should learn a thing or two from him."

Paola slung her mace over her shoulder. Her tone was joking, but her words carried weight.

She glanced around the wall and frowned.

"...Looks like the worst of the assault is over. Let’s head back toward the center and help out wherever we’re needed."

"Ah, Sir Paola... speaking of which,"

Maxime recalled the increasingly intelligent behavior of the monsters.

"The monsters..."

Thud.

The ground rumbled.

The wall shook. The tremor wasn’t violent, but it was deep and heavy, like a primal force welling up from the earth’s core.

With that single tremor, the world fell into an eerie silence. The fear that this quake stirred took hold of both monster and man alike. The monsters whimpered lowly, aware of their master’s presence, while the humans, gripped by the same instinctual terror, frantically searched for the source.

Maxime saw Paola’s face stiffen. She knew exactly what that tremor was, and she knew what presence was now looming over the world.

"Goddammit."

Paola cursed under her breath.

At that moment, a deep, resounding roar that seemed to announce the end of the world swallowed everything whole.