Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 725: Refusal to Disappoint

The stampede slammed into the basin like a barrier of fangs and clamor.

Vaelira, A-tier Arcane Puppeteer and Nova Circuit's rising star, detected it by sound prior to sighting it. A vibration surged up from her boot soles to lodge in her ribcage, profound enough to throb her dental fillings. Then the skyline shifted. Beasts flooded the innate pathways linking feeding zones in a torrent of scales, chitin, and mindless, howling dread, hunters fleeing beside the hunted, the upper strata's wildlife cascading into the lower areas patrolled by rookie-track guilds.

Her HUD blinked. Competition rankings throbbed with new data. Iron Halo shed ten thousand points. Then ten thousand more. Silver Talon bleeding heavily.

Lives were ending.

"Form up!" Vaelira’s command sliced through the chaos like a knife. She raised her wand, making the surrounding air ripple with arcane power. "Shields up front, ranged in back, no one budges until I give the word!"

Jack stood ready, his hulking build anchored at the forefront with mace-shield raised. Sasha fitted an arrow to her string. Diaz had disappeared.

The remaining nine Runewoven rookies lacked composure. A few gawked at the oncoming surge with pale, rigid stares, their bodies opting for paralysis over action.

"Did I stutter?!" Vaelira growled. "Formation! Now!"

They scrambled into place. Terror of the onslaught jolted them, but dread of her snapped them into proper spots.

"Arise. [Summon Legion]!"

Arcane brilliance tore the air. A hundred ghostly warriors appeared across the basin in precise formations, their bronze plating shining, shields forming interlocking barriers, spears jutting out in all directions. They created a multi-layered defense around the thirteen combatants, three lines thick, each covering the spaces in the row before. The earth shook under their unified steps as they secured their stance.

The stampede crashed against the shield line and the mountain turned to thunderous roar.

Beasts collided with the barrier from all sides, clambering over one another. The front rank took the impact. Shields cracked and spears pierced flesh, and any creature breaching one guard faced two more in reserve. Vaelira directed them with crisp wand motions, commanding a hundred forms simultaneously, repositioning whole segments to handle pressure spikes, drawing in one side to channel beasts into a deadly path lined with spears three deep.

Then came the next surge. Larger ones. The upper elevation predators that ruled those heights. They struck the line like siege engines, splintering the front rank. Fifteen warriors vanished in moments, then twenty, bronze shards dissolving into dissipating mana as the bigger beasts crushed right through.

Vaelira summoned anew. Twenty soldiers materialized in the breaches, the mana drain pulsing her sight. She summoned once more. Thirty additional ones bolstered the eastern side where the stampede raged densest, feeding fresh troops into the defense quicker than foes could dismantle them.

Blood trickled from Vaelira’s nostrils.

Now a hundred and fifty summons. Her mana pool depleted faster than she could monitor, her body protesting via her sinuses, behind her eyes, a piercing damp warmth signaling she’d exceeded her core’s safe limit dozens of soldiers back.

Yet she ignored it.

’If a single one dies,’ she mused, ’he’ll find out.’

That idea pierced the ache and weariness. No bravery stiffened her posture. Not honor, duty, or affection for those she shielded.

Just the profound, paralyzing terror of Kaiden Grey’s fury.

The core in her heart throbbed. A spectral warning, icy and weighty behind her breastbone. The gluttony entity lurking inactive in her heart tissue, poised. The rage that could set her veins aflame remotely. The dominion mark etched on her heart like a claim of possession.

She sensed it still. Each moment of every day since he’d dug his talon into her chest and redefined her grasp of her own fragility. His visage hovering over her in the medical bed, gaze aflame red, the absolute tone when he declared every heartbeat a mercy he hadn’t withdrawn.

Yet.

Vaelira preferred to hemorrhage from nose and ears on this slope than hand Kaiden Grey cause to trigger her implant. But that wasn’t the true horror. The core could slay her. She’d accepted that risk.

What she couldn’t endure was his ire once more.

He’d entrusted her with this squad. Met her gaze and stated these thirteen were her charge, extracting her vow to safeguard them. That vow marked the initial trust from Kaiden Grey, her sole remaining leverage.

Failing it meant the core was irrelevant. No need to burn her blood or consume her inwardly. He’d merely regard her as in that medical bed, confirming her lone shot at redemption squandered.

Monster death came swift. Kaiden’s disdain endured eternally.

Another phantom guard crumbled. She restored it. One more dropped. She filled that gap too, new summons advancing as rapidly as predecessors fell, the shield barrier enduring because Vaelira denied its collapse.

The stampede ebbed.

Twelve minutes passed. It dragged like twelve hours. The beast flood scattered into laggards, then ceased. The basin fell into an unnatural hush broken by far-off cries from guild sectors that had buckled.

Vaelira dropped her wand. Her limb quivered. Blood stained her collar, vision throbbing at the borders with every pulse.

She accessed the competition rankings.

Runewoven: zero point deduction. Full team preserved.

Iron Halo: minus thirty thousand. Silver Talon: minus forty thousand. Casualties still tallying.

Vaelira smeared the blood from her upper lip using her hand’s back.

"Report!" she commanded. Her tone rasped. "Every member, confirm you’re alive. Now."

Confirmations came promptly.

"Then we continue," the blonde proclaimed.

"We just survived a stampede and you want to keep hunting?!" A rookie whose name escaped her, a youth just past boyhood, ashen and shaking.

Vaelira pinned him with a glacial stare. "Yes. We continue until the job is done."

The youth fell silent. Everyone followed suit.

’Thirteen out of thirteen,’ she reflected. ’You’re welcome, you... wonderful man.’

She wouldn’t even think loudly at him.

Instead, the puppeteer lifted her wand.

"Ten minutes. Then we hunt."

...

Magnus Ashborn perched at his desk, palms pressed flat, knuckles blanched.

The live feed replayed in his mind.

His offspring shattered on the ridge. His spouse looming above.

Stampede clips, timestamped, had spread across all key networks. The crescent severing the girl’s limb, her shift, the dual-toned voice. Every instant from Kaiden’s personal view, streamed to millions witnessing his guild’s elite-track hunters pursue a novice squad over peaks under guise of aid.

Magnus’s jaw clenched.

They ought to be gone. That was the intent.

The stampede, sealed paths, strikes masked as mishaps. Kaiden’s group should’ve suffered losses, incurred ten-thousand-point hits per casualty, plummeting rankings to let New Dawn triumph.

Yet all survived intact. The violet-haired blitzer missing a limb yet battling with it gripped in her jaws. The youth morphing into a horned entity with echoing voice that terrified the mountain beasts.

Every one alive. Every one broadcasting.

He rose. Chair scooted back. His heirs failed to eliminate even one rookie. Three elite-track versus seven novices amid monster-infested heights, every edge theirs, yet no deaths. Selena shot to slay and erred. Twins fled in panic, collapsing when the boy’s mana aura struck.