Bodies kept falling on the battlefield, one after another. But still, not a single soul turned their back. Because behind them lay home. There was no retreat left. All they could do was turn blood and fire into a battle hymn, standing against the eerie creature's fangs to protect everything they held dear. "Mr. Varron! The west shield wall has completely collapsed!" "The archer squads can't hold! Our healers can't keep up!" "The mage squads are down too! Mr. Wyalt fell fighting the eerie boss!" "We… we can't hold much longer!" "Should we abandon the front line and fall back?" "Mr. Varron, give us orders!" At the front, Aimar, the officer in a red robe, listened to the barrage of reports. His chest felt heavy, like it was about to crush him. His right sleeve hung empty, his arm long gone, the wound eating away with a mysterious power. Not even a cleric could fix it."Retreat?" The City Lord, against a Lord-level boss, gravely wounded, was dragged back for healing. As temporary commander, Aimar had the final say. Every fighter fighting for Leafport was counting on him. The pressure was almost suffocating. The three Lord-level bosses leading the charge were already bleeding out, but at this exact moment, the defenses shattered completely. This fight was already lost. If they pushed on, every warrior would die here. If they pulled back, Leafport—already half in ruins—would suffer even worse losses, and countless civilians would perish. On one side, the bloodied fighters. On the other hand, the home they lived in. Whatever choice he made, it would tear him apart. But as commander, silence wasn't an option. Any delay would cost more lives. He didn't have time to think. He took a deep breath, ready to order the retreat. Compared to the few flames still burning, losing a few more buildings didn't matter. Most were already gone. Civilian casualties were tragic but inevitable.War was brutal and merciless. "Everyone, move!" A thunderous roar cut through the chaos. The wind screamed, sweeping eerie creatures into the sky. Then a blurred figure streaked through the air, landing beside Aimar. "Mr. Jones?" Aimar's expression twisted into a mixture of surprise and confusion. Of course, I know the guy in front of me. He's the top-ranked powerhouse of the Hall of Supremes. Thanks to him, a whole district got protected, and one of the bosses got held off, which is why Leafport is still standing. But the real question is… why is someone sitting on his head? Aimar's eyes couldn't help drifting upward, landing on Aiden. Hmm… that's someone I know too. But facing Merrick, Aimar didn't dare press for more. "Mr. Jones, what are your orders?" "You. Send everyone to deal with Northcrest's Lord-level boss. The other two major bosses? Leave them to us." Merrick's voice was low and steady."Really?" It felt almost rude to question a top-ranked powerhouse like him, but right now, every move Aimar made could decide Leafport's fate. He had to tread carefully. "Of course. Do you think I, a top-ranked powerhouse, would treat something like this lightly?" Merrick's tone stayed calm, almost cold. "This is the only way for now. Believe it or not, it doesn't matter. Leafport isn't exactly my problem." Before Aimar could respond, Merrick vanished in a streak of light. The roaring wind lifted Aimar's hair, and his expression flickered, hard to read. A moment later, Aimar gritted his teeth and gave the command. "Shield guard squads, mage squads, archer squads... all units move to Northcrest!" "Yes!" "Understood!" The responses came fast, but not without some hesitation. "Mr. Varron, Northcrest still has a Lord-level boss. It's hardly the safest fallback point. Is there another plan? Or… is this not really a retreat?" "Exactly." Aimar's voice dropped low. "We're going all in. Mr. Jones—the top-ranked powerhouse in the Hall of Supremes—has already promised to handle the other two Lord-level bosses." "I see." "That's great." "Understood." The leaders of the various legions felt their spirits lift. They were still confused. A Lord-level 100 eerie boss wasn't just strong. It was brutal. Its power rivaled the divine, and it was notoriously tricky. They couldn't understand how Merrick could be so confident. But now, they had no choice. "Move out!" Aimar's order cut through the air. Leafport's soldiers surged toward Northcrest. … Boom! Boom! At the same time, Merrick was charging toward Eastguard's Lord-level boss. He moved with lightning speed, and his presence thundered through the battlefield.