ALL NOVEL Chapter 290: Morale
Lyerin stood at the entrance to the next cavern, the flickering torchlight casting his shadow long and imposing against the jagged rock walls.
He took a deep breath, his expression hardening as he looked upon the weary, bloodied soldiers before him.
There was no trace of pity in his gaze, only a steely resolve that seemed carved from the same stone as the cavern itself.
"Here they are," he said, his voice low and reverberating like distant thunder.
The simple words were laced with a weight that made the soldiers stiffen. "Beyond this chamber, you will find them—more of those beasts. Stronger, faster, more ruthless than the ones you have faced."
The soldiers exchanged glances, fear flickering in their eyes. Some shifted uneasily, hands tightening around their weapons.
Lyerin's eyes swept over them, catching each gaze and holding it.
"You think you have seen the worst? That this... trial is something you can conquer through sheer desperation alone?" He laughed, a cold, humorless sound that echoed eerily. "You are mistaken."
His voice dropped, and the air seemed to thicken with every word he spoke.
"These Trilobites, the ones you will face now, have slaughtered entire tribes. They have consumed the hopes and lives of those who once dared challenge them.
"Their strength is not a myth—it is a reality. It is a reminder of what it means to fight against something that sees you as nothing more than prey."
The words sank in, heavy and suffocating. The soldiers' faces grew pale. One of them, a man with a jagged scar running down his temple, spoke up hesitantly. "You... you mean they're stronger? Even stronger than before?"
"Yes," Lyerin replied without hesitation, his gaze like ice. "Much stronger. Faster. More cunning. The ones you defeated earlier were merely scouts, expendable fodder sent to test your resolve. What awaits you now are true warriors—beasts honed by countless battles."
Murmurs rippled through the soldiers. Panic threatened to rise like bile in their throats. Lyerin's eyes narrowed, and his voice cut through the noise like a blade.
"You call yourselves warriors? Soldiers of a cause? Then know this—you are nothing to these creatures. Less than insects beneath their feet. They will not hesitate. They will not stop until you are ground into the dirt."
He took a step forward, his presence almost suffocating. "And yet," he continued, his tone hardening further, "they are not the worst enemies you will face. The families—the ones you have defied and turned your backs on—are far, far worse."
The soldiers stared at him, frozen. Lyerin's voice dropped again, now a low, venomous growl.
"The families are the rulers of humanity's ashes. Their strength is ancient, their power unfathomable. The Borgias, my own bloodline, rule with cruelty you cannot fathom. Do you think these Trilobites are dangerous? Compared to the families, they are nothing but an inconvenience. A distraction."
He paused, letting the silence draw out until the weight of his words pressed down on every one of them. "If you want to win—if you truly want to survive—then you must be forged in fire. You must face this challenge head-on and emerge stronger for it."
One of the soldiers, his face pale and drawn, forced himself to speak. "How... how can we? We're not Titans anymore. We're just... human."
"Human?" Lyerin spat the word like a curse. "You think being human is a weakness? No. It is a strength. You are not bound by blood curses. You are not chained to ancient rules that dictate your every move. You are free to fight, to adapt, to conquer."
The soldiers' eyes widened. Another spoke, his voice shaking. "But... what if we fail?"
"If you fail," Lyerin said, his gaze cold and unyielding, "then you die. There is no second chance this time. No revival. No rebirth. But know this—if you hesitate, if you falter, if you allow fear to consume you, then you are already dead."
Silence fell again, heavy and oppressive. Lyerin took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, but the intensity behind it made every word cut deep.
"The only way to overcome the families is to become stronger than anything they could ever imagine. And that starts now. It starts with defeating these creatures. This is not a battle—it is a crucible. Prove you are worthy to stand against what lies ahead."
The soldiers' breaths came in ragged gasps. The scarred man spoke again, his voice filled with determination and fear. "How... how do we fight them, then? What do we do?"
"You adapt," Lyerin said, his eyes blazing. "You fight together, not as individuals but as a unit. You think, you move, you strike as one. Use every weakness, every ounce of strength. You have faced death before—you have tasted its bitterness. Use that fear. Turn it into power."
The soldiers nodded, their fear giving way to a grim determination.
One by one, they stood, weapons in hand, their eyes hardening.
Lyerin watched them, a flicker of approval crossing his features.
"Good. You have chosen to fight. Now prepare yourselves."
The soldiers moved, checking their weapons, adjusting their armor. The fear was still there, but now it was tempered by resolve.
They whispered among themselves, their voices low but urgent.
Lyerin stood back, a faint smile playing at his lips.
He had given them the spark they needed.
Now, it was up to them to ignite the flame.
One of the soldiers turned to him, his face pale but determined. "Lyerin... we won't let you down."
Lyerin's expression hardened. "See that you don't. Because if you do, there will be no one left to bury your bones."
The soldiers nodded, their grip on their weapons tightening.
Lyerin turned his gaze back to the darkness of the cavern ahead.
"Let this be your proving ground," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Show me that you are more than cowards hiding behind false hopes. Show me that you can stand against the darkness."
The soldiers took a deep breath, steeling themselves. And then, with one final nod from Lyerin, they moved forward into the abyss, ready to face whatever horrors awaited them.
As they stepped into the cavern, an oppressive chill washed over the soldiers, their breaths turning to mist in the air.
The chamber was vast and ancient, with walls covered in bioluminescent fungi that cast a sickly, phosphorescent glow.
Shadows danced, elongated and twisted by the flickering light, hinting at shapes lurking just beyond sight. And then they emerged—the humanoid Trilobites.
Unlike their previous foes, these creatures were monstrous.
They stood taller, their segmented exoskeletons gleaming with a dark, wet sheen that shimmered as they moved.
Powerful, clawed limbs dragged across the ground, sending sparks flying.
Their eyes glowed a deep, ominous red, and their gaping maws were lined with serrated, overlapping rows of teeth.
Spines protruded from their backs, and a noxious, acidic steam rose from their bodies with every breath, filling the air with a stinging, metallic tang.
The soldiers faltered, terror clawing at their minds.
One of the Trilobites screeched—a high-pitched, bone-rattling wail that echoed through the cavern and made their knees buckle.
Lyerin stepped forward, his face impassive as he surveyed the scene.
"Form up!" he barked, his voice cutting through the fear like a razor. "Tighten your ranks! Do not let them break you!"
The soldiers scrambled, desperately tightening their formation as the Trilobites advanced. One of the creatures lunged, moving with shocking speed for its size. It crashed into their line, scattering soldiers like ragdolls. Screams echoed. Blood splattered the ground.
"Push it back! Aim for the joints!" Lyerin shouted, his voice cold and commanding. "Their armor is strongest on the surface—pierce beneath it!"
A soldier, wide-eyed and drenched in sweat, steadied himself and lunged forward. His spear found purchase in the exposed joint of the Trilobite's limb. With a sickening crack, the creature shrieked and reared back, its limb spasming uncontrollably. Another soldier followed suit, hacking at the exposed spot with his sword. Black ichor gushed from the wound.
"Do not waste your strikes!" Lyerin barked. "Every hit must count!"
The ground shook as another Trilobite charged, barreling through their defensive line. A soldier screamed as its claws tore through his chest. The creature hurled him aside like a ragdoll, his body crumpling against the cavern wall. Panic surged, and the formation began to waver.
"Focus!" Lyerin roared, his eyes blazing. "This is no different than before! Use your training! Stay together!"
His words rang out, pulling them back from the brink. The soldiers gritted their teeth and fought, desperately lashing out at the monstrous Trilobites. Spears jabbed. Swords cleaved. Shields splintered under crushing blows. The air was filled with the clang of metal against chitin, the roars of the beasts, and the desperate cries of the living.
One soldier, his face streaked with grime and blood, turned to Lyerin, desperation etched into every line of his face. "They're too strong! We can't hold them!"
Lyerin's gaze never wavered. "You can. You must." He pointed to the creature's exposed flank, where a piece of its armor had been pried away. "There! Strike there, and do not relent!"
The soldier hesitated for only a moment before lunging at the vulnerable spot. He drove his blade deep, and the Trilobite convulsed, letting out a deafening screech. Other soldiers rushed to exploit the opening, hacking and stabbing until the beast fell, thrashing, to the ground.
"Good," Lyerin said, a hint of approval in his tone. "Now, to the next!"
Another Trilobite lunged from the shadows, its claws raking through the air. Lyerin sidestepped, the motion so precise and effortless that it seemed almost casual. He gestured sharply. "Form two lines! The first absorbs the charge, the second strikes from the side!"
The soldiers obeyed, their movements still clumsy but driven by desperation and Lyerin's unyielding commands. The Trilobite collided with the front line, its momentum slowed by the braced shields and spears. The second line moved in, stabbing at its unprotected underside. The creature roared, thrashing wildly, but the soldiers held their ground.
"Do not fear their size!" Lyerin shouted. "They bleed, they fall, just like anything else!"
But the Trilobites were relentless. Another beast surged forward, its claws swiping in a brutal arc that sent soldiers sprawling. One man, dazed and bleeding, struggled to rise. The creature loomed over him, jaws gaping wide. Time seemed to slow. The soldier's eyes met Lyerin's across the battlefield.
Lyerin's voice was cold as iron. "Get up. Or die."
The soldier's hands trembled, but he found his footing, rolling to the side just as the Trilobite's jaws snapped shut where he had been. He drove his spear upward with every ounce of strength he had left. The tip pierced the creature's mouth, skewering it from within. Black ichor poured out, and the Trilobite convulsed, its death throes shaking the ground.
"Next formation!" Lyerin commanded, his eyes scanning the battlefield. "You are not finished yet!"
More Trilobites emerged from the darkness, their crimson eyes blazing. The soldiers' breaths came in ragged gasps. Their limbs felt like lead. But they stood their ground, driven by Lyerin's relentless presence and the knowledge that failure meant death.
"Watch your flanks!" Lyerin shouted as two Trilobites moved to encircle them. "Do not let them separate you!"
The creatures lunged simultaneously, their claws gleaming. One soldier stepped too slowly, and a claw tore through his shoulder, spinning him to the ground. Another Trilobite advanced on him, but before it could strike, a spear pierced its side. The soldiers rallied around their fallen comrade, forming a protective circle. They struck again and again, their weapons finding purchase in the creature's vulnerable spots.
But victory was fleeting. Another Trilobite crashed into their line, scattering them like leaves. A soldier was thrown through the air, his scream cut short as he hit the ground. Blood pooled beneath him. Desperation clawed at the survivors.
"We cannot fall!" one of them cried, his voice ragged with exhaustion. "Hold the line!"
"Your fear is weakness!" Lyerin shouted, his voice harsh. "Banish it, or it will consume you!"
The soldiers fought on, their bodies screaming in protest, their minds teetering on the edge of despair. Every breath was agony. Every heartbeat thundered in their chests. But they fought, clinging to the fragile hope that they could survive.
Slowly, painfully, the tide began to turn. One Trilobite fell, then another. The soldiers' movements grew more coordinated, their strikes more precise. They were battered, bloodied, and broken, but they refused to yield.
"Now!" Lyerin shouted, his voice like a war drum. "Finish it!"
With a final, desperate surge, the soldiers struck as one. Their weapons found the last Trilobite's vulnerable joints. The creature roared, a sound of pure fury and agony, before collapsing to the ground. Silence fell, broken only by the soldiers' ragged breaths.
Lyerin stood among them, his gaze cold and unflinching. "This is only the beginning," he said. "There is no room for weakness. No room for hesitation. You will face worse than this. You will face enemies who will not give you a second chance."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "But if you fight together, if you learn, you may yet stand a chance."
The soldiers stared at him, exhaustion etched into every line of their faces. But there was something else there now—something harder, more determined. They had survived. For now.