1 Humanity has los

"Hold fast!"

The shout echoed in the minds of the soldiers present, who tersely acknowledged the order with a war cry. They dug their feet further into the ground, and leaned even further into their tower shields.

The centurion looked around him in a cursory glance of his soldiers, seemingly satisfied with their spirit and morale.

He stopped his inspection, turning his attention to their horrifying enemy.

The Allied defense line, to which the centurion belonged, stretched for kilometers upon kilometers. Yet, from afar, it would only look like a branch compared to the tree that represented their enemies.

Apart from the overwhelming difference in army sizes, the beasts opposite them far outclassed them in individual combat as well. With a mixture of monsters and humanoid demonic creatures, their riffraff appearance was the exact opposite of their combat capability. A single creature could eliminate 20 well-trained soldiers unscathed - and there were more than forty thousand present. Even if the allies had 800,000 troops, they would not be able to win - let alone the meager 15,000 that were present.

However, the soldiers' job was not to win - it was to stall for time. A party of the entire world's strongest beings were on their way to the enemy base. Once the leader was eliminated, the beasts would lose any semblance of cohesion.

As if the beasts were aware of such a plan, they immediately started the offensive and an ear-splitting roar reverberated through the marsh. The marsh used to be the most fertile land on its side of the world; however, after years of constant battles, the blood seeped into the soil, turning into a marsh.

Now, tens of thousands of earth-shattering footsteps were trampling all over it. Later on, some scholars would refer to this marsh as an example of "the best things in life are fleeting".

Seeing the frenzied charge, the centurion blew his whistle in haste.

"First three rows, shield wall! Brace for impact!"

The soldiers heeded the orders with professional discipline, despite being scared out of their wits. The few veterans in the century had already given up on life, and were practically waiting for death. They knew very well that even retreating from the beasts would cost uncountable casualties, let alone trying to stall for time.

BOOOOOOOOM

An almighty sound resounded from the initial clash between the two forces, followed by the din of combat and the cacophony of screams that accompanied the loss of human life.

The first row of the defensive line were completely decimated, turning into mincemeat. The second row was only a bit better off, but most had already become permanently crippled and unable to fight anymore.

It was only when the beasts reached the third row that the fight actually began. Just like that, in the first couple of moments of the engagement, 3,000 allied soldiers either died or were forced to retire from the battlefield.

The cold, harsh reality started to sink into the minds of those present - there was no way they would be able to survive.

Just the brutality from the first couple of seconds caused even veterans to pale; one can imagine what the rookies were like.

The centurions and tributes were frantically trying to calm their troops down, but to no avail. These leaders were experienced, and knew that only by being calm and organized would they have a chance to survive this calamity. The way the army was now, it was not much better than a chicken extending its neck to be chopped off.

The worst part was that more than a two thirds of the army were fresh recruits. This defensive line was, quite literally, the last human army. There would be no reinforcements coming, and certainly no miracle either. There was only one thing in store for them - death. Realizing this, the leaders stopped trying to placate their men, and simply focused on their survival.

At times like these, several sly and cunning opportunists would use the surrounding soldiers as meat shields, as long as it meant they would survive for even a millisecond more.

Surprisingly, though, there was a group of soldiers who did not flail around, or retreat frantically. They stood their ground, and acted as the last bastion of humanity. They fended off beasts from their position, and were eventually stranded behind enemy lines.

Facing such a situation, there were no cliche lines. There was no-one proclaiming that it was a honor to serve with them. There was only one, singular thought that was shared by all of them. It was the centurion who voiced their thoughts for them.

"Glory to the Eagle!"

As if that phrase was a stimulant, the entire century turned into berserkers, killing everything in its path. However, there was a limit to a human's body. The 100-strong century was slowly whittled down to 80, then 70, then 40, then down to 10.

With only ten soldiers left, they turned even more fearless. They knew they were going to die, so they wanted to bring as many as they could with them.

Since only 10 people could not maintain the usual shield wall formation, they split off from the original rectangular formation, each soldier moving forward at a different pace. However, now that they had separated, they were easy pickings as the beasts surrounded them. They fell after only taking out one or two monsters. Only the centurion was a bit better off, managing to take down five beasts. He had sprang forward and leapt up, stabbing his sword into a centaur's throat with a violent thrust. Slicing through the rest of its neck to dislodge his sword, he used the same motion to chop off the arm of another monster, before landing back on the ground and steadying himself. His next opponent was an orc. Orcs could employ an immense amount of force, but the trade off was that they were slow. Their frame was at least three times larger than a human's, making them cumbersome. With an elegant sidestep, the centurion evaded the orc's heavy right straight which ended up countering the attack that came from behind.

Furious, the orc started spamming punches in a flurry. The centurion evaded all of them, knowing that even one hit would incapacitate him. At the same time, each of the orc's punches would connect with another monster's attacks. If one wasn't aware of the situation, they would think that the monsters were fighting and the centurion was just caught in the crossfire.

After a short exchange, the centurion found the chance he was looking for. Planting his shield onto the ground, he backed off a bit, before jumping on top of the edge of the shield. Using that as a launch pad, he leapt onto the orc's head, stabbing its throat. The orc fell down soon after, powerless. Yet when he tried to retrieve his sword, a monster had come up and beheaded the orc - chopping off the centurion's left hand at the same time.

Blood started spraying, painting the handle of his sword in red. Withstanding the pain, he used his other arm to successfully retrieve his sword. Now, without his shield and bleeding profusely, he was on his last leg. However, an elite was, in the end, an elite. He didn't give up, instead charging once more. He evaded fists and blades, viciously counterattacking once in a while, when he was sure it would be fatal. His goal was to tie up as many monsters as he could. Soon, the occasional stray attack landed on his body, inducing more and more fountains of blood. After a minute, the centurion could move no more. He knelt on his knees, but with his back straight like a rod. Indignation was rife in his eyes. He maintained his ferocious expression even when he was beheaded. The monsters then lifted his head up high, as if claiming, "your champion is dead!".

When that happened, it was like the opening of a floodgate.

The century had been frequently lauded as the best and most fearless century in the entire Allied army.

The Alliance and the Allied Army had formed twelve years ago, just after the advent of the Beast Emperor. The first century was also formed at the same time. The century had always kept a count of over 50 men, even after the most devastating of battles. The current centurion started as a new recruit 7 years ago, slowly working his way up. He had plenty of opportunities to obtain a higher post in the army, but he was always reluctant to leave the first century.

He slowly developed as the strongest soldier in the entire army, and also the calmest - no matter the situation. There were legends that he was stronger than the beasts - which was obviously true.

With his fall alongside the first century's, the allied forces had lost all hope. If even the most elite century had fallen, what chance did they stand?

The army completely fell apart, picked off one by one by the beasts. After they were done with the soldiers, they started slaughtering the civilians. They ravaged the last human city, sealing the leyline hidden underneath. The human heroes, deep in enemy territory, had suddenly lost their source of power. They were swiftly captured and dealt with.

On this day - 12 years, 9 months and 4 days after the advent of the Great Calamity - the Last Human Army was destroyed, and with it, humanity's position as the dominant race was toppled.