The battleground between Saga and the goblin king was rocking with each of their powerful blows during this battle, the force echoing somewhere within the night- much like thunder. Crouched behind their improvised barricade, the villagers watched in taut silence with broken breath as the duel played out that would help forge their destiny. Saga felt the surge of the system's energy within him, but the goblin king just refused to stop; the onslaught of brute strength and dark magic proved to be too much.
The spiked club of the goblin king whistled through the air, seeking his head with deadly precision. Saga just ducked in time; the club rushed by inches away from him, flaying the ground with enough force to send shards of rock flying everywhere. The goblin king snarled; its eyes hazed with an evilly bright, pointed intelligence that chilled Saga to the bone. This was no mindless beast—it was a creature of cunning, of cruelty, and it would not fall so easily.
"Focus, Saga," the voice of his system echoed in his mind, masking urgency with a tone of serenity. "You have faced your fear; now, you are to conquer it. But use that knowledge, trust in the power located deep within you.
Saga grit his teeth: he willed down the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He had come too far to stumble at this junuscure point; the villagers were depending on him, and if he failed, it wouldn't just be his life lost. Drawing on the power of the system, Saga launched himself at the goblin king once more, his movements a blur of speed and precision.
The goblin king roared with fury, dealing blows with its club that would crush the bones of any man, but Saga was faster. He ducked to the side as the spiked club winged past mere inches from his chest and struck out with his own weapon. His blade bit deep into the goblin king's side, and this time, the creature howled with pain as the blade cut through its thick hide.
But the king goblin wasn't done yet. He staggered back, blood oozing from the wound, but his eyes blazed with ever more rage; with a guttural growl, he raised his club high, black energy arcing around the weapon as it raised to strike.
Saga felt the air around him grow heavy, the dark magic rooting him in place. His heart pounded in his chest, and for just the briefest of moments, doubt flickered through his mind. How could he, an ordinary villager with no weapon but the power of the system, hope to defeat such a monstrous enemy?
"Doubt not thyself, Saga," the system's voice cut through his thoughts. "The goblin king is mighty, but so art thou. Remember all that thou hast learned. Remember that thou art more than a boy out of Willow's End. Remember thou art the Chosen of the System, and thou shalt prevail."
A renewed surge of determination passed through him and Saga braced himself, tightening the grip on his weapon. In came the goblin king and down its club slammed, shaking the earth under the pressure of the club's descent. However, Saga was more than prepared; in a flash, he leaped aside, effortlessly evading the attack, and plunged his blade deep into the goblin king's leg.
The creature's roar of agony sounded through the void as it fell to one knee. The flickering shadow of dark energy around it waned. Seeing this, Saga took advantage of the moment and pulled his blade free, hacking down again, going for the chest this time, and his blade bit through the hide and sank into the flesh. For a moment, his eyes went wide with shock, and time seemed to stop.
Every last bit of strength used up, the goblin king fell backward in one last bellow, his huge shape thudding to the ground. The dark energy that had circled the air around him disappeared into the night, throwing the battlefield into grim silence. The goblins there stopped in their tracks, having witnessed the fall of their master, with their previous ferocity replaced by doubt.
Saga stood over the fallen body of the goblin king; his breath came in ragged gasps with blood dripping from his weapon. He felt the power this system provided recede, the adrenaline that fueled it ebb away, and what that battle had taken from him made him feel exhausted, something that threatened to drag him under. He could not afford to rest yet.
"Now, Saga!" came Lysandra's voice, needled through the relative quiet, fierce and demanding. "Show them their king is dead!"
Saga wasted no time on this. Summing up all what was left of his power, he raised his weapon high—the blade was still dripping with the goblin king's own blood. The sight of their fallen leader combined with Saga's defiant stance could be more than enough to shatter the little remaining reservation within the goblins. It was enough, he was sure; and with a here-and-there-type wail, the twisted fuzzy forms flapped away into the night.
The villagers just stood there, inert, all eyes staring as the last of the goblins just disappeared; murmurs of disbelief and relief rushed through the crowd of people. The murmurs swelled until people were cheering; they had done the impossible, after all, having lived, their village was safe. The danger had been conquered.
Saga dropped his weapon and took a deep breath. The mud-caked villagers' cheer was roaring through him—the experience was numbing. He was misted of sight and the earth was trembling even beneath him. He should be feeling victorious, but at a cost that was way too high. The system's power required that every fiber of his body be pushed to its limits and now, with the match ended, the repayment commenced.
Before he could fall, Lysandra was beside him, her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "You did well, Saga. Better than I expected."
Saga managed to smile weakly. "Thanks. but I couldn't have done it without your help."
Lysandra's features softened slightly. "Maybe. But it was your courage, your strength that won the day. The system may have selected you, but you have proven yourself right in that selection."
Saga nodded, too weary to say anything. Now they all cheered in joyous acclaim, their voices but a steady, muffled roar in his ears. He had done it—actually done it. He had saved them all. Though he stood there victorious, it seemed that the feeling was short-lived as a new thought began nagging at the edges of his mind. This was just the beginning. The system gave him power but set him on a dangerous path. In the direction where the Goblin King had gone, more followed, but it was a long, hard road for him now.
Lysandra seemed to pick up on his mood. "Rest now, Saga. You have earned this much. But remember, this victory is but the first step. There are greater threats out there, and the system will not let you rest for long."
Saga nodded once more, his mind already drifting as exhaustion dragged him under. This battle he had won, but the war was far from over. And as he collapsed into Lysandra's arms, the world rushing to black, he knew that the true test was still to come.
The villagers of Willow's End did not sleep that night but continued making merry, celebrating their unexpected victory over the fearsome creature of the stone in the only way they knew. The name Saga was on everybody's lips—the boy who saved them from submerging into the gulf of time. But Saga himself was oblivious to all celebrations. He had fallen into an undisturbed sleep, the body and mind utterly exhausted, sensing nothing but the soothing escape of rest, in his little shack.
Lysandra joined him outside, her sharp eyes mostly seeking for the horizon. She knew very well that a victory as great as this was not going to go undetected by the darker forces of the world. The system had chosen Saga, and for those who opposed its might, they had great lengths to go before watching him fall.
At the moment, however, the village was safe, and Saga had earned at least a moment of reprieve. Lysandra looked down at the sleeping boy and allowed herself a very rare smile. He was strong, far more than she ever expected. But strength, in and of itself, would not be enough for the battles to come. He needed to be sharper, faster, and he needed to be cunning if he was going to survive the ordeals still ahead of him.
The breeze churned over, and on it came—damp earth, green growth, the calls of night creatures. The smile slipped from Lysandra's face, to be replaced by a cold, calculating mask she usually wore. Much to do, little enough time in which to do it. But for now, she would let Saga rest.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Lysandra turned and walked away from the village, this new challenge already being calculated in her mind. It was the system that put Saga on this path, but she would be the one to see to it that he survived and, come the time, be ready when those forces of dark came to challenge him yet again.
Yet that was a battle for some other day. Today, the village of Willow's End would sleep soundly, oblivious to the dangers that still lay beyond the horizon. And, in his small, run-down shack, so would Saga. His dreams full of promise, dreams of power free from restraint and the shadow of battles yet to come.