Chapter 92: Lightning Manticore

Before him, a massive monster roared under the trembling light of distant flames. A giant lion with leathery bat wings, a metallic scorpion tail, and eyes like thunderclouds ready to strike.

[Lightning Manticore, Beast Captain – Lvl 27]

The Manticore moved slowly. Each step made the ground tremble. Its scorpion tail twitched like a coiled whip, but that wasn’t what unsettled Luke. What truly shook him was that this was the third Captain he’d seen that night.

A roar from afar. A blast. Fire. The Flame Tyrannosaurus still rampaged through the streets, and on a distant rooftop, the giant gorilla bellowed, hurling debris down at the defenders of the Refuge.

Three Captains. Three monsters from the Beast Lord’s army. In a normal invasion, maybe one would appear—and even that was rare.

Why is this happening?

This wasn’t just an invasion. It was something else entirely.

The beast roared again. Yellow sparks exploded around it, leaping through the trees and igniting the foliage. Flame slithered like serpents through the underbrush, fed by raw electricity. Luke’s instincts screamed at him to run. Facing a monster like that alone? Not a chance. He needed backup. He needed the others from the Haven.

But there was a problem. That thing wouldn’t let him escape. Turning his back now would be the same as signing his own death warrant.

And yet… he didn’t flinch.

He couldn’t back down. Not now. If he turned and ran, every drop of blood spilled, every risk taken, all of it would have meant nothing.

So he tightened his grip on the kukris—and charged.

So he tightened his grip on the kukris and charged. A blur of movement. Basic Dark Dash. He appeared at the beast’s flank, ready to slash, but electricity was already arcing through the air. Lightning danced across the Manticore’s body, snapping like live wires. Luke slashed with his kukris, trying to cut through the field of energy, but the tail lashed out, sharp, metallic, fast. It aimed straight for his skull. He dove to the side just in time.

The tree exploded. Shards tore through the air like shrapnel from a grenade. Jagged splinters sliced past him. Charred leaves rained down from above. Luke took the hit, hot fragments ripping into his skin. He clenched his teeth, instinctively shutting his eyes as the explosion’s flash seared across his vision.

That tail didn’t carry venom. It was a lightning rod. If it touched him, he’d be fried from the inside out.

Charlie charged without hesitation. Sword in hand, she reached the Manticore and struck. The monster roared and spun—its tail whipping out again. Charlie blocked each blow, arms trembling under the impact, but never faltering.

Luke circled, eyes sharp, hunting for an opening. The Manticore turned toward him, jaws snapping open. He moved to flank—but a paw caught him clean in the ribs.

The force launched him through the trees, crashing through branches. Momentum threatened to slam him into the ground, but he twisted midair, dug his heels in, and stabbed a kukri into the soil to anchor himself.

Dirt sprayed. His body skidded, then stopped. Panting, he steadied his stance and spat blood onto the forest floor.

“I need to act. Think. Fast.” Allison was out there alone with a fire-breathing dinosaur. Jonathan, Paul, Angelica, each locked in their own hell. If he stalled too long, it all fell apart.

Pattern. Blind spot. Interval. He had to find it. The Manticore charged. Massive. Devouring the forest. Luke launched forward. Another dash. Another blur. He slashed from the side, but the tail met him in the air.

‘ZAAAAP’

Pain exploded through him. He hit the ground, buzzing with static.

This bastard has more electricity than my whole neighborhood.

The tail pulsed with light. The Manticore roared. Charged again. Luke didn’t back down. He punched forward.

Either I give Charlie an opening, or I make my own.

Kukris flew from his hands, split into copies midair, and he activated magnetic return.

The blades returned like screaming meteors.

He moved.

[Demonic Blade Dance]

The kukris spun around him, carving the beast’s hide. It growled, mouth sparking, ready to bite. Then the sound of an impact shook the forest. Charlie opened with a brutal punch, landing a clean hit to the chin. Without pause, she spun her sword in a deadly arc.

[Whirlwind Strike]

She became a steel hurricane, blades carving through the air in vicious spirals, trying to make space. Luke stepped back, repositioning himself, ready to strike the final blow, but the tail came again, fast as lightning.

Charlie gathered all her strength.

[Heavy Strike]

She intercepted the strike with overwhelming force, halting the momentum of the tail mid-swing. But the creature hadn’t aimed to pierce — it had aimed to unleash.

The tail plunged into the earth. In the next instant, raw energy pulsed underground, alive and searching. Lightning surged beneath their feet.

The forest floor detonated in a violent eruption. Chunks of stone and soil blasted skyward. Smoke twisted through the air, mingling with the smell of scorched roots and ozone. For a heartbeat, the world became chaos — a vortex of flying debris and flickering electric arcs.

Luke launched upward, leaping from branch to branch like a ghost of the forest, climbing with wild, desperate agility. His breath was ragged, blood streamed from open wounds, but his mind remained sharp—razor sharp.

If I keep this up, I’m dead.

Each movement stretched his muscles to the brink, every branch he grabbed sent fresh fire lancing through his injuries. Flesh tore. Bones ached. Still, he climbed.

Think, damn it! THINK!

His pursuer wasn’t just powerful. It was smart. Not human-smart—something worse. A primal, monstrous intelligence. The manticore wasn’t just some lumbering beast. It moved with purpose. With intent.
It was a killer.

It has everything—strength, range, fucking lightning. What kind of monster even is this?!

The crack of shattered branches echoed below, followed by the heavy thud of a tree trunk snapping under pressure. The thing was close. Too close. Luke’s mind raced. He started replaying every moment. Every movement. Every strike. Not just fear—but analysis. Watching the predator’s rhythm. The pattern. Beneath the fury, there was a method.

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It’s not just attacking blindly. There’s a purpose to every lunge…

Instinct. Deep-rooted, predatory behavior.

Wolf. Cat. Killer.

They all aimed for the same thing—the neck. Fast kills. Precision. It wasn’t rage. It was design. He clenched his jaw.

If I can use that…

And now Luke was reading the manticore’s.

Every time it attacked, the tail followed. It wasn’t random—it was a sequence. Lunge. Strike. Tail. If the tail missed, it hit the ground and exploded everything nearby. It wasn’t just brute force. It was a pattern. A trigger.

Below, the manticore roared like a living storm. Luke narrowed his eyes.

Does it fly? It has wings, but it’s staying grounded.

The creature charged forward, tearing through trees like matchsticks, sparks erupting with each impact. Charlie dashed in without hesitation, sword in hand, Iron Fists blazing. She knocked the tail aside, dodged the beast’s snapping fangs, dancing through danger.

Then Luke dropped from the sky, spotting an opening mid-fall. His kukris tore across the monster’s back in a crimson trail of blood and lightning. The creature howled, its aura flaring into a volatile surge.

Explosion.

Luke leapt again, but the metallic tail whipped up like a living spear—just as the rhythm predicted. Mid-air, he hurled the kukris, spun into a spiraling blur. The tail struck a nearby tree. Lightning exploded. The blast flung him like a ragdoll, his body twisting violently before crashing into the earth.

He had read the pattern, but that didn’t mean he could stop it.

The manticore sprinted with wings spread wide, then leapt into the air, gliding with monstrous grace. Luke rose with effort, breathing ragged. The kukris snapped back into his hands with a sharp metallic hum just as Charlie landed beside him.

The tail came again—zigzagging toward them, fast, deadly, crackling with living energy. They dodged on instinct. Charlie deflected; Luke slashed. But the pressure was mounting.

Then the manticore lunged. Its massive body slammed into Luke, claws burying into his chest as he was dragged back across the ruined ground. Gritting his teeth, he fought with raw strength, trying to drive a kukri into the creature’s skull—but the jaws were already closing.