The sky hung heavy with clouds as Rimuru continued its transformation from a simple village to something more—a bastion of hope, a citadel in the making. The cool breeze of early morning whispered through the leaves, carrying with it the tension that now permeated the air. It had been two weeks since the villagers had begun their training, and though they had improved under Marko's relentless guidance, Padrino could feel the weight of time slipping through his fingers.
As the village worked together, there was an undercurrent of urgency in every movement. Farmers who had once tended the fields now practiced swordplay. Hunters honed their skills with arrows and spears, not for game but for survival. The old, who could no longer fight, worked tirelessly to build defenses—barricades, trenches, and makeshift walls that now surrounded Rimuru.
In the village square, Padrino stood with Marko, overseeing the day's preparations. They were discussing the next steps in fortifying Rimuru, but Padrino's thoughts were elsewhere. A scout had returned that morning with troubling news.
"How many did he say?" Padrino asked, staring out over the village as the villagers worked.
"More than we expected," Marko replied grimly. "The scout saw at least three full battalions of Galdros soldiers camped just over the southern border. They haven't moved yet, but it's only a matter of time."
Padrino frowned, rubbing his temples. "And Earlshide?"
Marko shook his head. "Still in chaos. Whatever's left of their council is arguing over who should lead, but they're too divided to mount a defense. We're on our own."
The news wasn't surprising, but it was still disheartening. Padrino had hoped for more time, but time was a luxury he no longer had.
"How long until they reach us, do you think?" Padrino asked.
"Two days, if they march at dawn tomorrow," Marko replied. "Maybe less if they move faster than expected."
Padrino nodded, his mind racing through the possibilities. Two days wasn't enough to prepare the village fully, but it would have to do. He turned to Marko, his voice steady but urgent. "We'll have to fortify the southern approach tonight. Double the guard and set up watchmen in shifts. I want to know the moment they start moving."
Marko nodded, already thinking through the logistics. "I'll get the strongest fighters on it. We'll be ready."
As Marko turned to leave, Padrino stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "And Marko… make sure the villagers know what's coming. They need to be ready, mentally. This isn't going to be like the bandits. This is war."
Marko met Padrino's gaze and nodded, his expression hardening. "I'll handle it."
The day passed in a blur of activity. Every villager, from the youngest to the oldest, played their part in preparing for the coming storm. The sounds of hammers striking nails, wood being chopped, and voices calling orders echoed through the village. Padrino moved among them, offering words of encouragement, but his mind remained focused on the task at hand.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the village in a golden light, Padrino made his way to the training grounds where the strongest villagers were gathered. Marko had already begun organizing them into units, instructing them on how to form defensive lines and hold their ground.
Hinata was there too, her presence commanding but calming. Her long white hair caught the light of the setting sun, and her soft blue eyes surveyed the scene with quiet determination. She was speaking to a small group of villagers, teaching them basic healing techniques they could use on the battlefield.
Padrino approached her, his steps slow and deliberate. When she noticed him, she offered a small smile, though her eyes betrayed her concern.
"How are they holding up?" Padrino asked, glancing at the villagers who were practicing nearby.
"They're scared," Hinata admitted, her voice soft. "But they're also determined. They'll fight for Rimuru, for their families. And they'll fight for you."
Padrino sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just hope I'm worthy of their trust."
"You are," Hinata said firmly, placing a hand on his arm. "You've done more for this village than anyone could have expected. They believe in you, Padrino. And so do I."
Her words were comforting, but they also reminded him of the immense responsibility he carried. Rimuru's fate rested on his shoulders, and he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
"I'm going to scout the southern ridge," Padrino said after a moment. "I want to see for myself what we're up against."
"I'll come with you," Hinata offered, but Padrino shook his head.
"Stay here. The villagers need you more. I'll take Benji and a couple of the others. We'll be back before dawn."
Hinata hesitated, then nodded. "Be careful."
Padrino gave her a reassuring smile, though inside, the weight of what was coming pressed heavily on his chest.
The southern ridge loomed over the village, a natural defense that had always provided a sense of security to the people of Rimuru. But tonight, it felt different. The air was thick with anticipation, and the forest that bordered the ridge was eerily quiet.
Padrino crouched low behind a cluster of rocks, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Beside him, Benji—the eager young villager who had proven himself surprisingly skilled in stealth—peered through the foliage with wide, anxious eyes.
"There," Benji whispered, pointing toward the distant tree line.
Padrino followed his gaze, and sure enough, he saw the faint glow of campfires flickering in the distance. The Galdros forces were close, far too close for comfort.
"How many do you think there are?" Benji asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Too many," Padrino replied grimly. "But it's not the numbers that concern me. It's their organization. Galdros doesn't move without a plan."
Benji swallowed hard, his youthful bravado faltering for a moment. "Do you think we can beat them?"
Padrino was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the distant fires. "We don't have a choice. We fight, or we die."
Benji's face paled, but he nodded resolutely. "Then we fight."
Padrino admired the boy's courage, even if it was born of naivety. War was far more brutal than anything Benji—or most of the villagers—could comprehend. But Padrino couldn't afford to show doubt. Not now.
"Come on," Padrino said, rising from his crouch. "We've seen enough. Let's get back to the village."
As they made their way back down the ridge, Padrino's mind raced with the knowledge he now carried. Galdros was closer than he had anticipated, and their forces were larger than Rimuru could handle head-on. They would need to rely on strategy, not brute force, if they were to survive the coming battle.
By the time Padrino and his group returned to Rimuru, the village was quiet. Most of the villagers had retired for the night, though a few watchmen patrolled the perimeter, keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings.
Padrino made his way to the central square, where Marko and Hinata were waiting for him. The tension in the air was palpable, and both of them looked up as he approached, their expressions expectant.
"They're close," Padrino said without preamble. "Too close. We don't have much time."
Marko frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "How many?"
"Three battalions, maybe more. They're camped just over the ridge. They'll be here by morning if they start moving at first light."
Hinata's face paled, but she remained composed. "Then we have to be ready."
"We will be," Padrino said, his voice firm. "But we can't meet them head-on. If we try to fight them in open battle, we'll be overwhelmed. We need to use the terrain to our advantage."
Marko nodded, already thinking through the possibilities. "The ridge gives us the high ground, but it won't hold them off for long. We'll need to set traps, choke points, anything that can slow them down."
"I've already started organizing the villagers," Hinata added. "The healers are ready, and we've stockpiled as many supplies as we can. But…"
She hesitated, glancing at Padrino with a look of concern. "But we're going to need more than just strength and strategy. We're going to need hope. If the villagers lose faith, it's over."
Padrino understood what she was saying. The villagers looked to him for leadership, but they also looked to him for hope. If he faltered, they would falter.
"I'll speak to them," Padrino said after a moment. "Tomorrow, before the battle. They need to know what's coming, but they also need to know that we can win."
The sun had not yet risen when Padrino stood before the gathered villagers. The air was crisp, and the sky was a deep blue, just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. The villagers, weary from days of preparation and training, stood in a loose formation, their faces tense with fear and uncertainty.
Padrino took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their gazes on him. He knew that this moment was crucial—not just for their morale, but for their survival.
"Today is the day we've been preparing for," Padrino began, his voice steady and clear. "The enemy is at our doorstep, and they come with numbers far greater than our own. They come with swords and shields, with the intention of taking everything from us—our homes, our families, our lives."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in.
"But we are not just villagers. We are not just farmers or hunters or craftsmen. We are defenders of our home, and we will not let them take it from us."
Padrino's voice grew stronger, more resolute. "We may be outnumbered, but we are not outmatched. We know this land, we know these forests and ridges. And we have something they do not—unity. We fight not for glory, not for conquest, but for each other. For Rimuru."
The villagers stood a little straighter, their fear slowly giving way to determination.
"I won't lie to you," Padrino continued. "Some of us may not see tomorrow's sunrise. But if we stand together, if we fight with everything we have, then we can win. We can drive them back. And we will survive."
There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd, a growing sense of resolve spreading through them.
Padrino raised his sword, the blade catching the first light of dawn. "For Rimuru!"
The villagers echoed his cry, their voices rising in unison. "For Rimuru!"
As the dawn broke over the horizon, casting a golden light across the village, Padrino felt a surge of hope. The battle ahead would be brutal, but they were ready. Together, they would face the storm.