Extra Borne: Transmigrated Into A System Apocalypse Soulsborne Novel-Chapter 63 - 61: Birthing War (2)

Boom!

The lightning carved jagged scars across the roiling ashen gray expanse above, the brief flashes of red, white, and yellow painting the desolation in fleeting clarity before plunging everything back into shadow. Each deafening rumble of thunder was like a drumbeat in a slow march to annihilation.

The ground beneath my feet churned with muddy blood, trembling as if alive, as if the earth itself recoiled in horror. Each violent quake sent a pulse through the battlefield, echoing in my chest like the heartbeat of a dying world.

"Something is coming," Geralda said, her voice steady, calm... almost unnervingly so, a sharp contrast to the chaos unfolding around us.

I followed her gaze to the beam of sickly energy in the distance. It rippled like a festering wound, tearing through the fabric of existence, it’s glow more corruption than light. The portal’s edges shivered and spread outward, threatening to consume the already bleak horizon.

The air tasted of iron and ash. Each breath clawed its way down my throat, heavy and sharp, carrying the weight of the cursed landscape. Forcing down the ache in my legs, I straightened. My hands trembled, not from fear but exhaustion... though one could argue there was little difference now.

Ahead loomed the Tower of Rebirth, its jagged spires clawing at the churning sky. Blackened stone jutted at cruel angles, sharp and unyielding, as though it sought to impale the heavens themselves. The tower stood as a monument to this world’s madness, a cruel king ruling over a kingdom of ruin.

And then, the system’s cold, detached voice echoed in my mind, searing itself into my thoughts like a brand.

[NOTIFICATION]

+

TIME BEFORE YADRED’S REBIRTH: 45 MINUTES LEFT.

REBIRTHING.

+

I gritted my teeth. Even now, the system’s omnipresence loomed, a puppeteer pulling unseen strings. Its warnings were not mercy but reminders... reminders of our helplessness in this twisted game.

Du! Du! Du!

A deep, resonant drumming rolled across the battlefield, its rhythm steady and unrelenting, like the march of an inevitable doom. It wasn’t from us, nor from the skies. It came from the portal, a pulse echoing from that widening void, heralding the arrival of something vast and unspeakable.

And then they came.

At first, they were shadows, shapes moving within the portal’s crimson glow. But shadows grew into forms, and forms became an army... a tidal wave of nightmares.

They surged forth like a plague. Not dozens, not thousands. Millions. An endless tide of monstrous abominations spilled into the battlefield, consuming the horizon.

The first wave was massive... a procession of towering behemoths that seemed more mountain than beast. Their bodies were hulking and twisted, their skin not flesh but a void, an abyssal black that drank in the faint light around them.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Behind them came the swarms. Smaller, quicker monstrosities with jagged, angular limbs that sliced through the air. Their movements were erratic, each step a violent jolt as though the act of existing pained them.

Above, wyverns screamed into the ash-laden sky, their vast wings casting shadows across the battlefield. Their cries pierced the thick, suffocating air, sending shivers racing down my spine.

Goblins scurried below, their hunched forms wielding crude weapons that dripped with black ichor. Snake-like creatures slithered among them, their glowing eyes like molten gold, their venomous fangs glinting in the dim light.

And still, they poured forth.

This was no army. It was a flood... a living, breathing force of annihilation.

My breath caught, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of it all pressed down on me, threatening to crush me where I stood. But I couldn’t afford emotions. Not now. Not here.

"Are you ready?" Geralda’s voice cut through the chaos, as steady and calm as her stance.

I turned to her. She was unshaken, her golden-flecked eyes fixed on the advancing tide. There was no fear in her gaze, no hesitation. Only a calm resolve.

"I’m ready," I said, though my voice felt small against the roar of the approaching horde.

The air around Geralda began to change. A faint, ash-dark energy swirled around her, growing in intensity with each passing second. It wasn’t chaotic... it was deliberately controlled, a force held in check by sheer will. The ground beneath her seemed to respond, trembling faintly as her aura grew.

Then, she raised her hand.

"O forsaken comrades," she began, her voice low but resonant, each word carrying the weight of countless battles, "you who have been with me since the very beginning of this curse… you who have been abandoned to the grieving blight of our emperor…"

Boom!

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the battlefield in sharp, jagged flashes. The ground quaked violently, cracks spreading like veins across the blood-soaked mud.

"Arise!" Geralda roared, her voice a clarion call that cut through the chaos. "Let us see the end to this. However it ends, let it be written that we fought until our last breath!"

The tremors became earthquakes, the ground splitting open as if in rebellion.

"Victory or defeat…" she continued, her voice rising to a crescendo, "our story shall be remembered!"

The earth answered her call. From the blood-soaked ground rose armored figures, clawing their way to the surface. Knights, their armor battered and rusted, emerged from the depths, their movements deliberate despite their age.

Their hollow eyes burned with an unrelenting fire, and their battle cries resonated with a haunting, otherworldly power... a sound that spoke of pain and defiance, of an unyielding will to fight.

Geralda didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained fixed on the horde as she uttered her final command:

"Advance."

The knights surged forward, their charge shaking the earth. They met the tide of monsters with a deafening clash, steel meeting flesh, screams meeting roars.

And I stood amidst it all, the air thick with ash and blood, knowing this was no mere battle. This was war. The grieving war had only just begun.

Boom!

Lightning split the sky again, carving jagged scars into the gloom as the battlefield roared to life.