Chapter 225: Predator at the Gate
byRonan had been stationed at the camp in front of the gate for a long time now, months, in fact. He would return to Bastion for a while, then come back here, over and over again. A year ago, he never would have stayed away from the Safe Zone for so long, let alone linger in one place like this.
Dealing with Marshall had always been complicated. The man was unpredictable and dangerously calculating. Back then, camping here would have been a gamble they couldn’t afford. They would’ve been attacked already. After all, Ronan wasn’t just another soldier, he was one of Bastion’s most important figures. But since Marshall’s death, things had calmed. Walking openly among the soldiers, sharing meals, and sleeping in the same camp served as a quiet statement: everything’s fine now.
This spot had become a neutral ground of sorts, a gray zone between the Wild Zone and the barrier. The Midnight Wardens didn’t come near it, in fact, they kept their distance, lingering deeper inside the city.
It was almost as if the Wardens themselves formed a living defensive wall between the Safe Zone and the barrier. Ronan only began to understand that after spending real time here. They’d even started to carefully explore along the barrier’s length, bit by bit. With Marshall and the Renegades gone, progress was possible. Finding one of the mechanisms was now within reach.
With camps sprouting up in the area and more people arriving every week, the goal had become clear: start searching through the structures and ruins here.
But every time someone looked at the wall they’d built over the gate, layers of metal, stone, and packed earth, they felt the same chill. Because behind that wall lurked the giant serpent. They all knew the day would come when they’d have to face it. The thought alone was enough to keep some men awake at night. It had taken weeks before most of them were willing to sleep anywhere near the gate.
“Want more, Commander?” Eric, one of his most loyal men, stood nearby with a ladle in hand.
“No, I’m good with what I’ve got here,” Ronan replied.
He was sitting on a log beside his tent, enjoying his lunch break. A bowl of stew rested in one hand, and he tore off pieces of bread to dip into it. Nearby, a table was buried under blueprints and half-finished projects, littered with hammers, chisels, and other tools. There was even an anvil close by, and further ahead, a large stone forge.
Ronan liked working his trade as a blacksmith. The soldiers here weren’t just idling between patrols, they were mapping the area, gathering resources, putting their professions to use. Tools were in constant demand for the ambitious project underway: a tunnel linking the Safe Zone directly to this camp.
That meant pickaxes, shovels, carts, things people like Ronan could craft, and even imbue with magic. He could extract iron straight from rock, refine it without even firing up the forge, though not in bulk, and analyze soil for metal deposits with ease. Professions like blacksmiths were invaluable here. Pair one with an artificer or a weaponsmith, and you could start turning out arrows or specialized weapons on the spot.
The only thing he didn’t care for was the presence of Kruger’s soldiers. Assassins. Six of them, four men, two women. They never spoke to anyone, never tried to mingle. They just prowled around the camp, always nearby. Sometimes one would vanish for a few days, no doubt carrying a report back to Kruger.
Still, Ronan didn’t complain much. They pulled their weight, keeping the camp safe. The beasts usually kept their distance even with the campfire burning at night, but every now and then, one would get bold enough to test their luck.
If the Wardens didn’t rush to back each other up, then maybe, just maybe, killing one was possible.
With his current strength, Ronan believed it could be done, so long as he could corner one in a controlled location. He’d already managed, with a group, to take down statues when they were isolated. The problem was, the damned things screamed, drawing others, and were stronger and more vicious than the statues. They were armored warriors, after all, not unprotected archer constructs.
“The nice thing about exploring out here is it’s not as cold,” Eric said as he came over and sat beside him.
“And no sign of snow,” another soldier added.
“Definitely,” Ronan agreed.
Being so far from the great wall meant the air here wasn’t as biting as the Safe Zone’s. They could get away with light clothing instead of heavy coats.
That’s when it hit, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in their bones. Every soldier in camp turned toward it at once. Instinct. Something primal. The quiet dread of knowing this moment might come.
“The wall!” someone shouted, already backing away.
That wall had been built layer by layer, reinforced concrete mixed with iron, hardened further with magic.
“All hands to positions!” Ronan barked. Something on the other side was trying to break through.
There were thirty soldiers here, not counting the distant exploration teams and the assassins who never factored into the headcount anyway.
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This can’t be happening.
“It’s the s-s-snake!” someone stammered.
“It can’t get through the gate!” Eric called back, trying to calm them.
“But it can destroy it,” another voice answered.
Ronan forced his mind to steady. It could be the giant serpent, or something worse, something just as strong but capable of crossing over to this side of the barrier.
He stepped forward. “Together we can hold it. We’ve already taken down statues. Archers, ready! Mages, throw up protective barriers!”
Weapons came up all around him. Sweat rolled down his temple. He was tense but had an ace to play. He was a warrior specializing in unarmed combat and possessed an epic-tier profession skill. If it came to it, he’d use it.
Seconds dragged by, then came a harsh, echoing crash. Stone fragments and twisted shards of metal flew outward. Whatever was on the other side was strong.
“Steady,” he told the soldiers.
Where the hell are those assassins?
He scanned the camp. Gone. They’d vanished just when they were needed most. Faces around him were pale, eyes wide. A section of the metal wall ripped free and crashed to the ground far away.




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