Shadow Being System

The atmosphere in the tunnel was suffocating. Fear clung to the air like a dense fog, wrapping around the soldiers, teachers, and students who stood in formation, waiting for the inevitable. The students, about 250 of them, huddled together in the middle, surrounded by their teachers and the soldiers.

Their faces, once youthful and vibrant, were now pale and grim, etched with the horror of what was to come. Some clutched each other's hands, trembling. A few quietly whispered prayers, while others remained stone still, too frozen by fear to move.

At the front and back of the formation, the soldiers stood guard, their postures rigid, their eyes locked forward. Their hands gripped their weapons tightly—knuckles white and veins bulging, as if clinging to their weapons was the only thing keeping them grounded. Around the perimeter of the students, the teachers formed a protective circle, their expressions solemn.

Among them was Miss Mona, her jaw set, eyes scanning the tunnel, preparing herself to shield the young lives behind her with her own if necessary.

The darkness of the tunnel seemed to press down on them, but a faint light from the blown roof above cast an eerie glow, illuminating their faces in a ghostly hue. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the occasional nervous shuffle of feet or the quiet, strained breaths of the terrified students.

Then, without warning, the silence was broken.

A distant wail pierced the air—a haunting, bone-chilling sound that echoed through the tunnel. The students flinched, their faces tightening in fear. Some of them winced, and a few even let out soft gasps. The soldiers shifted, gripping their weapons even tighter, their bodies going rigid. The wail grew louder, more ominous, as if a storm was approaching, and with it, death.

Commander Charles, standing at the front of the formation, didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his hand and gave a signal to one of the soldiers. The soldier nodded, stepping forward and pressing a button on a small device. A moment later, the tunnel shook as the sound of explosions erupted from the distance.

A chain of detonations rang out, echoing through the tunnel walls, drowning out the enemy's cries. The ground vibrated beneath their feet, and the students, already on edge, jolted in fear.

Commander Charles watched with narrowed eyes. "That should keep them off for a while," he muttered to himself. It'll reduce their numbers.

After a minute, the explosions ceased, and a thick, smoky silence returned. William, standing among the students, glanced at his system notification. The quest description had changed. The number of enemies has been reduced by 508. 1,812 remain.

He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The hidden bombs had been effective, but it wasn't enough. The real threat still loomed. He knew that. The system chimed in his ear, as if reading his thoughts.

"The Heretic is still alive," the system said.

William's stomach dropped. The Heretic.

"How powerful are Heretics?" William asked, dreading the answer.

"A Heretic is powerful enough to destroy an entire country's military force," the system replied.

William's face paled. An entire country? He looked around at the soldiers, the students, and the teachers. How are we supposed to fight that?

He felt a sinking feeling in his chest. This wasn't fair. The government never revealed to the public just how powerful the Heretics truly were, and now one was coming for them. How are we supposed to win?

The system's cold response echoed in his mind. "Life is always unfair."

Suddenly, the tunnel's oppressive darkness was interrupted by movement. It started slowly at first—shadows flickering in the distance. But then, the figures of the enemies appeared, emerging from the darkness like phantoms. They were running, sprinting forward with savage intensity, their beast weapons and armor gleaming in the dim light.

As soon as they came into range, the military's spell technology sprang to life. Machinery built into the walls and ceiling of the vehicles activated, casting a mechanical hum throughout the space. The weapons were designed with magical enhancements—guns that never ran out of bullets, cannons that fired for days without overheating.

They were all powered by spell technology, a fusion of human ingenuity and arcane energy.

As the machines fired, they cut through the enemy ranks like a scythe through wheat. Bullets, infused with destructive spells, tore through the air, incinerating the first line of enemies in a flash of heat and light. The stench of burning flesh filled the tunnel, and the enemy's cries of agony were deafening.

Commander Charles raised his hand again, and this time, he shouted the order. "Attack!"

The soldiers with long-range abilities responded immediately, unleashing their powers upon the approaching enemy. Fireballs, conjured from the surrounding atmosphere, shot forward, roaring through the tunnel and engulfing enemies in flames. Streams of water blasted forward, knocking back entire groups with the force of a tidal wave.

Lightning cracked and danced through the air, striking down enemies in a flash of blinding light.

One soldier's strange green slime ability seeped out from his hands, moving like a living creature. The slime shot through the air, passing through up to ten enemies at once, dissolving them on contact. Others fired arrows—arrows that never missed, piercing through the air with deadly precision.

The tunnel was no longer silent. It was a cacophony of explosions, battle cries, and the screams of the dying. The once suffocating darkness was now ablaze with fire and light, the shadows chased away by the relentless assault of the military's forces.

But even as the soldiers unleashed their might, there was an uneasy feeling in the air. William could sense it, and so could the others. Despite their strength, despite the machinery and the spell techs, the odds were still against them.

The tunnel's natural occupants, rats and mice, scurried in every direction, disturbed by the violence in their home. Their tiny feet pattered against the stone, darting in and out of cracks, fleeing from the battle that had invaded their sanctuary.

The enemy, though diminished in number, retaliated with equal ferocity. They unleashed their own abilities—fire, lightning, and water, mirroring the soldiers. But something felt strange to the students. These were not wild beasts or mindless creatures; these were humans. Flesh and blood, just like them. And they were fighting back with lethal intent.

William watched in horror as a soldier was struck by a bolt of lightning, his body convulsing before crumpling to the ground, lifeless. Others were burned alive by flames, their screams of agony filling the air.

This isn't a fight against beasts, William thought. These are people. His mind raced, wondering how the Heretics had gathered such a force. How could they have convinced so many to fight for them?

The system answered his unspoken question. "There are many who have been wronged by the current world system. It is not surprising that many would join the enemy's cause."

William gritted his teeth. That doesn't make this any easier.

The battle raged on, the once dark tunnel now a fiery inferno of destruction. William's heart pounded in his chest as he activated his third eye. The system's vision blurred his own, and his sight expanded to the entire battlefield. For a moment, it looked as if the forces were in a stalemate—a brutal back-and-forth between the military's spell machinery and the enemy's unrelenting charge.

But William could sense something else lurking in the tunnel's depths. He strained his third eye further, trying to pierce through the darkness. Then, his breath caught in his throat. Two figures—larger than the rest—emerged from the shadows. He couldn't make out their exact forms, but the unmistakable aura of power surrounded them.

Their soul crystals burned like dark flames, and just gazing at them filled William with a bone-deep fear. These weren't ordinary enemies. These were beasts, and they were coming fast. Very fast.

William's system chimed again. "Two beasts with dark soul crystals have entered the battlefield. Prepare for a shift in power."

He swallowed hard, his hands shaking slightly. These things—

"Where's the third one?" William muttered aloud, trying to steady his breathing.

"One is still hidden," the system replied. "But even two are dangerous enough."

The two beasts finally stepped into the light of the battlefield, and the sight of them sent a chill down everyone's spine. The students gasped, their dread palpable. These weren't like the beasts they'd seen on TV. These looks like monsters—straight out of a hell.

The larger of the two beasts stood at an enormous 15 feet tall, towering over the soldiers like a living colossus. Its body was a grotesque blend of blue and white, with the blue forming jagged, icy streaks across its muscular form, as if it had been painted by an artist who reveled in terror. The smaller one, standing at around 7 feet tall, was no less terrifying.

Both beasts resembled cats in the way their lithe bodies moved with deadly grace, but that's where the resemblance ended. Massive tusks jutted out from their mouths, slick with saliva that dripped and sizzled when it hit the stone floor beneath them.

Their eyes glowed with a bloodshot rage, and from their bodies, sparks of electricity crackled, leaping into the air with the intensity of a storm trying to escape its cage. The very air around them buzzed with electric energy.

The students, once frozen with fear, now recoiled in horror. Miss Mona's face turned ghostly pale, her hand instinctively reaching out to the nearest student to pull them back. The beasts were a living terror, something that shouldn't exist. And yet, here they were, barreling toward them with murderous intent.

"Demons," a student whispered, trembling.

William's stomach twisted. We can't fight that, he thought. How can we fight something like that?

The beasts roared, the sound reverberating off the tunnel walls. In an instant, they charged into the fray. Lightning crackled from their bodies, arcing out like whips of raw energy, striking down soldiers in its path. The air seemed to split as the electricity tore through it, the sound like a thousand thunderclaps.

The smaller beast moved with lightning speed, darting between soldiers, its claws raking through them as if they were paper. Its strikes were precise, calculated, and deadly.

Commander Charles watched as the larger beast began its rampage. "A commander-tier beast," he muttered under his breath. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "This is going to be troublesome."

The soldiers fought back valiantly, but it was clear their attacks weren't landing. Spells, arrows, and bullets either missed or bounced off the beasts' thick hides. The fire spells that had once incinerated the regular enemies barely left scorch marks on the beasts' skin. The tide of the battle was shifting, and it was shifting fast.

"We can't stop them!" one soldier shouted, panic creeping into his voice as his fireball spell dissipated against the larger beast's body.

The smaller beast leapt into the air, its hulking form moving with unnatural grace as it soared above the battlefield. Lightning sparked off its body, striking down soldiers below with lethal precision. Each time it landed, the ground trembled. The tunnel, already unstable from the previous explosions, began to crack under the weight of the onslaught.

Commander Charles, sensing the shift, charged into battle. His massive frame bulldozed through the enemy ranks. With a roar, he raised his arms, and in an instant, two enormous hammers made of earth formed in his hands. The ground beneath him rippled as his earth ability took control of the environment.

The tunnel was his domain now, and with rocks and dirt all around, he had an overwhelming advantage.

He swung his hammers with the force of a battering ram, crushing enemies with each blow. The sound of bones breaking and armor shattering filled the air as he plowed through the ranks of the enemy forces. A sword-wielding enemy lunged at him, but when the blade struck Charles' skin, it clanged harmlessly against him as if he were made of solid rock. He didn't even flinch.

"Pathetic," he growled, bringing his hammer down in one swift motion, pulverizing the attacker in a cloud of blood and metal.

But then, the larger beast moved.

The 15-foot-tall monster stormed toward the soldiers, its eyes locked on a group of archers firing enchanted arrows at it. The arrows, no matter how accurate, bounced harmlessly off the beast's hide. With a guttural roar, the beast raised its massive paw, intent on crushing them all in a single swipe.

The soldiers barely had time to react. The beast's shadow loomed over them, its massive paw descending like a boulder.

Then, just as the beast was about to strike, its movement halted. Its massive paw froze mid-swing, inches away from the terrified soldiers.

Commander Charles stood, gripping the beast's arm with one hand. His face was set in a grim, determined expressio

n, his eyes blazing with intensity.

"I'm your opponent," Charles said, his voice low but filled with power.

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