I was Drafted Into a War as the Only Human

'This Giant is tougher than I planned for.'

Darfin gritted his teeth as he soared nearly three hundred feet above the obsidian battlefield, his body cradled by roaring wind currents of his own making. The sky around him buzzed with the scent of ozone and smoke, while down below, the war raged on like a storm with no eye.

Though Darfin was the best candidate to face the Giant, being the only one who could fly easily, that didn't mean he was a good matchup.

The creature towered like a mountain made flesh—easily over three hundred feet tall. From this height, Darfin locked eyes with it, and a shiver passed through his spine. Its massive pupils, wide as temple gates, narrowed with eerie focus, staring straight into him. He felt like an insect being studied before the stomp.

Suddenly, the Giant's arm lunged forward. The limb alone was the size of a castle wing—slow, yes, but unstoppable. The air cracked with displacement as it moved.

Darfin twisted in midair. With a burst of wind beneath his feet, he dove to the side, spiraling like a leaf caught in a cyclone. He darted around the incoming arm, weaving past skin that looked like cracked marble, before launching himself skyward in a hard climb above the Giant's head.

He pointed his hand downward. Flames gathered into his palm, swirling in a tight, furious core until they formed a dense, whirling column of fire. It wasn't wide, but it was deadly, compressed to the point it hummed with destructive potential.

Darfin flung the cylinder straight down.

It screamed through the air like a comet, but just before it landed, the Giant's skin rippled, turning to shining silver in the blink of an eye. The fire struck with a hiss and vanished. There was no explosion, no burn, just steam and ash.

Darfin's lips curled into a dry smirk.

'I hate fighting these things.'