Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 181. A Horde (2)

The clash happened almost instantaneously.

A streak of gold flared through the battlefield—Art, his entire body sheathed in golden mana, moved like a vengeful spirit. Behind him, his conjured chains writhed mid-air like sentient serpents, slithering in arcs and coiling with hunger. On the other side, Zyon descended from above, his leap carving spiderweb fractures across the ground he’d launched from.

And then—

BAMMMMMMMM!!!

The world quaked.

Their simultaneous impact cracked open the forest floor. A shockwave roared outward like thunder given form, blasting through the clearing as withered trees were uprooted and flung aside like matchsticks.

The air turned to blade-like wind, howling as it cleaved away the mist. Ten... no, dozens of monsters were instantly reduced to nothing more than dispersing purple-black haze, vanishing with screams that curdled the blood.

The students at the rear stumbled, shielding their eyes from the wind as dirt and splinters flew. But when they looked—what they saw was not salvation.

It was madness.

Art was laughing.

Zyon was grinning.

Those two didn’t falter. They didn’t tremble. Surrounded by twisted nightmares, they didn’t blink. Their eyes burned—not with fear, but with ecstasy.

One girl, pale as snow, pointed a trembling finger toward the battlefield. "A-a-are we... sure they’re human?" Her voice cracked as she recoiled in horror. "Who the hell laughs in front of a monster horde like that?"

Someone beside her shook their head, equally stunned. "Whatever they are, be grateful they’re on our side..."

But another barked, his voice raw with rising panic. "The hell do you mean?! We can’t just let them do all the work! What if they fall?! Then who’s gonna save us?! Who’s gonna stop those things if they die?!"

Murmurs rose among the students. Uncertainty bloomed like rot in the crowd.

And then, from the front lines, a voice snapped the silence.

CLANG!!

Lilith slammed the base of her summoned spear into the earth, cracking the dry soil beneath her. Her crimson hair fluttered in the wind, her eyes glaring daggers into the gathered crowd.

"Listen up, you spineless dimwits!" she barked. "If I see any one of you backing away from the fight, I swear—you’ll wish for death. You’ll pray those monsters find you before I do."

Before her rage could spiral, Freya rushed in and grabbed her from behind, quickly pressing a hand over Lilith’s mouth. She leaned in, whispering with urgency, "Stop! What are you doing?! You’re just going to scare them more—if they fight like this, they’ll die. You’ll push them to their graves!"

Lilith brushed her off with a scoff. "Then let them die. If they can’t conquer fear when death’s right in their face, then they deserve to be corpses. They’re just wasting space."

As tension thickened, another figure stepped forward—Celeste.

She placed a steady hand on Lilith’s shoulder, a calming gesture. "Enough. All of you." Her brown eyes narrowed coldly. "We’re not here to fight each other."

Celeste turned to the crowd, and her voice rose—not forceful, but piercing. "You’re scared. I get it. But here’s the truth—if Art and Zyon lose, we all die. There will be no second chance. No escape." She stepped forward, expression unreadable. "I’m not going to order you to fight. But I want you to understand this: the only chance we have is together. We can’t win this if we all hide."

The students exchanged glances, torn between cowardice and survival instinct.

Their gazes flicked back to the battlefield.

Art’s chains were now dragging a monster mid-air before incinerating it in a brilliant flare of purple flames. Zyon’s fists exploded with insane impact, sending monsters flying like ragdolls. Together, the duo tore through the chaos like demigods of war.

It was awe-inspiring. Terrifying. Hopeful.

And yet... a dangerous thought began worming into some of the students’ minds.

"What if we don’t need to help? What if they win on their own?"

It was the seed of apathy, and it spread like wildfire. Quietly, some students began stepping back. Just a little. Just enough to feel like they weren’t running—but not close enough to fight either.

But not all of them were the same.

A few clenched their teeth and stepped forward.

One student picked up a dented longsword, his hands shaking—but he held it steady. Another summoned a barrier spell, stepping beside Lilith.

Then another.

And another.

Slowly, a frontline began to form. Patchy, trembling, but determined.

Freya stood among them, her hands shaking faintly—but her voice steadier than before. "Even if we’re scared... even if we’re weak... we’re still alive."

Lilith let out a toothy grin. "That’s more like it."

Celeste nodded, flicking a thin dagger into her palm. "Let’s make these bastards regret crawling out of their rifts."

"YES!!!"

A collective roar erupted from the students like a tidal wave of fury.

There was no coordination. No battle plan. No perfect formation.

Only raw will.

They charged like madmen, eyes wide with desperation, teeth clenched in resolve. Some were screaming, others silent—locked in that crazed limbo between courage and fear. Leading the madness was Lilith, her scarlet spear raised high like a war banner, and Freya, her expression hardened, strides unwavering.

The distance between them and the horde melted away.

500 meters.

400.

300.

200.

100—

BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!

An explosion ruptured through the battlefield.

A cluster of monsters were blown into the air, their grotesque flesh shredding as bits and chunks splattered across the ground. Veins of corrupted purple gleamed beneath their ebon skin, and a grotesque hiss escaped their lungs.

But they didn’t die.

Not truly.

They hadn’t turned into mist.

Lilith flared her spear, mana boiling around it. With a sharp breath, she hurled it forward like a bolt of divine punishment.

BOOOOOOM!!!

Another detonation shook the air as her spear struck dead center into a cluster, sending shockwaves rippling out. Flesh and black blood painted the soil, but still—they came. Relentless. Crawling, twitching, shrieking.

Meanwhile, toward the side, Art stumbled back, his golden chains retreating into mist. His breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling like bellows. His vision blurred. Blood trickled down from his nose.

"F-Fuck..." he muttered, biting his lip as pain lanced through his skull. "I overdid it... Can’t use any ability for a bit."

He staggered to the nearest tree and slumped beside it, hand pressed against his forehead as the throbbing ache intensified. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Zyon..." he muttered, voice low. "You should pull back too. Rest. We’ll die if we keep going like this."

Zyon landed next to him, panting but far less injured. His fists crackled with faint remnants of the monster’s mana. "Yeah, I figured... We need to regroup."

He looked around, scanning the battlefield. "Where the hell are Cassius and Leon?"

Art shook his head, a bitter smile forming on his lips. "Dunno. Haven’t seen those bastards in a while. Don’t count on ’em."

Zyon laughed dryly. "We’re literally carrying this shitshow."

"Yeah, no shit."

Their brief reprieve was broken by a sudden shout.

"LILITH!!"

Freya’s voice rang out like an alarm bell.

High above, a grotesque vulture-like monster plummeted from the sky. Its wings were torn, jagged bone fused with membrane, its eyes sunken and yellow like rotting moons.

Lilith barely managed to raise her arms.

BAAAAAAM!!!

The beast collided with her like a meteor. She stumbled back, materializing another spear just in time to block its razor-sharp talons.

Its jaws gnashed wildly, drool dripping onto her face—a smell so revolting it made bile rise in her throat. Her vision blurred, her grip faltered.

"Ugh—Gods... that stench—"

The monster screeched, sensing her hesitation. It lunged forward, its gaping maw stretching wider—

—only for a saber to pierce straight into its eye.

A student, face streaked with grime and fear, had struck with perfect timing. The beast howled in agony, rearing back. Lilith seized the chance, spun her spear with force, and drove it through the monster’s chest.

Splat.

The monster turned into mist.

She panted, then bowed to the student briefly. "Thanks..."

No time for more words.

The next moment, something unnatural passed through the battlefield.

A breeze.

Cold. Unfamiliar. Snow.

Petals of frost floated down gently from the sky. Then more. Then more.

The battlefield turned white—not with purity, but with ominous stillness.

The snow petals shimmered, and then, like blades, they transformed mid-air.

WHRRRRRRRRR!!!

They fell like raining shurikens, slicing through the ranks of monsters. Dozens were shredded, their cries echoing into the trees.

SHRIEK!!!

CHIRRRRRPPP!!!

BUZZZZZ!!!

ROARRRRRRRR!!!

The monsters wailed in confusion and agony.

And then...

SLLLLLASSSHHHHHHHH!!!

A massive arc of ice-blue light carved through the battlefield, cleaving hundreds of the monsters in half. Their bodies twitched—then turned to mist.

From the fog... a figure stepped forward.

His hair tousled. His coat swaying. Each step he took left frost beneath his soles.

Leon Stroud.

His eyes were narrowed, his lips curled in a bored smile. In one hand, he held a frost-forged katana, the blade humming with freezing mana. Mist billowed from its edge like dragon’s breath.

Wherever he walked, snow bloomed.

The snow petals continued to whirl around him, moving in perfect harmony—blades of grace and lethality. They cut through the horde without hesitation, as if the battlefield itself now bent to his will.

The students watched in stunned silence.

Leon didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

His sword did the talking.

And the monsters listened—with their lives.