Oliver's head wanders around, and so are his feet. As he looks around, he notices the others slowly stepping onto the streets. Soon, the army reunites on the road, looking around through the dusty air. Oliver's eyes gradually glance to his right side. He then peers at the broken gate whose sturdy wooden doors have collapsed on the road.

     The sight of the expansive opening left Oliver breathless. He stared through the other side with wide eyes. He then felt a cold chill crawling on his back.

     Emerging from the hazy shroud of dusty brown smoke is a robust, dark figure, moving with its progressive four legs. It passes through the wide-open gateway, placing its weight upon the fallen gates. Its heavy feet stomp, accompanied by a clanking noise, as it releases a swift breath through its nose.

"What is that!?" a soldier frantically yelled as he pointed at the figure.

Gregory hastened for cover in the cafe. "It's a wild Bjorn bear!"

     The creature is a bear. Its thick, brown fur envelops its massive body, accentuating the lethal snout that bares its sharp teeth. With a breathless roar, it sends tremors through the onlooking crowd.

     Everyone scatters. The men swiftly load their riffles, aiming at the bear's menacing visage. Among the countless individuals lining the long street, fear doesn't show in their eyes as they brace themselves against the wild animal.

     The bear let loose another roar before suddenly turning on its heels, rising onto its hind legs. Its keen nose caught the scent of something lurking in the hazy grassland. Retreating, it hastened into the street, running between the ocean of men. As the men on the street step aside for the bear to pass, confusion grips the air as their heads turn slowly towards the gateway's direction.

     Loud, approaching footsteps reach Oliver's ears, making him gaze through the gate. With his senses heightened, he hears the growing number of footsteps, transitioning from hundreds to thousands, drawing nearer with a march. Taking a deep breath, Oliver glares through the gate.

   Edgar follows Oliver's line of sight. His eyes widen, and his jaw quivers. Sharply exhaling, he quickly stands behind his taller cousin.

     Meanwhile, Gregory mirrors their actions. He looks with his unwavering gaze through the gateway. Then, his body freezes like a cold statue.

     Sophia met the impending threat with a steely glare. Hurryingly, she pulled out her sword and pointed her blade forward. She then positioned herself, stepping forward with her knees bent, ready for battle.

     Sarrah and Bethany's eyes narrowed as they focused on the approaching figures. Bethany stepped back, wrapping her arm around Sarrah, who returned the embrace. Fear gripped them, rendering them petrified and melting into each other's trembling forms.

     From the other side of the gateway, a pair of violet, glowing eyes pierced through the mist. The stomping feet multiplied, echoing louder as more pairs of eyes emerged. Each creature raised an unmistakable, sharp glare, some crouching close to the ground while others towered like giants.

     The Pyrovoidians are here. They have reached Asbranne and are ready to cause chaos and havoc throughout the region. They will show no mercy.

     Oliver clenches his teeth as he glares back at the incoming creatures. He then steps forward and bends his knees. Suddenly, he charges towards the monsters, startling everyone in surprise.

"Gahh!!"

     Oliver traverses the expansive gateway, propelling himself into the air with a leap. As he soars, he swiftly crosses his arms. Then, he releases two luminous, light grey orbs from his palms.

     Instantly, the orbs undergo a mesmerizing transformation, morphing into two sleek, airborne blades. The blades descend towards two Pyrovoidians nearby. Swiftly, the sharp metals fly and slice through their necks, decapitating the monsters.

"Let's go!" Oliver's voice echoed through the ranks of the assembled army. "For Asbranne and the world!"

A man stepped forward and raised his sword. "For Asbranne and the world!" he yelled.

"For Asbranne and the world!" everyone shouted together, lifting their swords high.

     As a united force, the army surges forward from the streets with their footsteps hastening towards the grassland. Battle cries erupt from their mouths, filling the air with a resounding roar that ignites the spirit of war. The sheer volume of their shouts is blaring and invigorating, fueling their courage for the imminent clash.

     Passing through not just one, but multiple nearby gateways, everyone storms towards the enemy. Men, and even some women, charge forward with unparalleled ferocity, akin to raging bulls in the heat of battle. The symphony of their footsteps reverberates like drums.

     As the army crashes with the Pyrovoidians, the clash of swords replaces the thunderous march. The metallic blades fill the atmosphere, intermingled with the cries of slashing strikes and the anguished screeches of dying beheaded beasts. The lush overworld floods with the sound of sharp swords, bathing the greenery in blood.