The horn's call was a harbinger of death, echoing through the streets of Rimuru like a predator's growl. Padrino's heart pounded as he watched the horizon darken with the approaching reinforcements. The village had already been pushed to its limits, and the defenders—those brave, ragtag men and women—were running on sheer willpower alone. Now, the real storm was coming.
Marko approached, his expression grim as always, but there was an edge of desperation in his voice this time. "This is bad, Padrino. I don't know how much longer we can hold out. We've already lost a third of our fighters, and the wounded…"
"I know," Padrino said, his voice hoarse from shouting commands all day. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight grounding him. "But if we break now, it's over. The village falls, and with it, our people. There's nowhere left to run."
Marko hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "We'll hold. Until we can't."
Padrino turned his gaze toward the approaching enemy, the gleaming armor of Galdros's reinforcements reflecting the dying light of the sun. He could already hear the heavy footfalls of the soldiers marching in perfect sync, their discipline and training evident in every step. These weren't the mercenaries or bandits they had fought before. This was Galdros's true military force.
"We need a plan," Padrino muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
"We can't win a straight fight," Marko said, his strategist mind already working. "We'll be overrun. But maybe we don't need to win. Maybe we just need to survive long enough for them to lose their momentum."
Padrino looked at him, an idea forming. "You're thinking of delaying tactics?"
Marko nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Exactly. We use the terrain to our advantage, force them into narrow streets and choke points where their numbers mean nothing. We make every corner a death trap, every alley a battlefield. They may have the advantage in numbers and skill, but we know this village better than anyone."
Padrino considered it. It was risky, but it was their only chance. "Do it. I'll take a small group to the front lines and buy you as much time as possible. Make sure the defenses are ready."
Marko didn't waste time on further discussion. He turned and sprinted off, barking orders to the remaining fighters as he went. Padrino watched him go, knowing that if anyone could pull off a miracle, it was Marko. But miracles were in short supply today.
Padrino gathered his most trusted fighters—Benji, Asuna, and a handful of others who still had the strength to fight. They were battered and bloodied, but their eyes burned with the same fierce determination that had kept them alive this long. They were a family now, bound not by blood but by the fires of battle.
"We're going to hit them hard and fast," Padrino said, addressing the group as they crouched behind the remains of a stone wall. "We can't stop them, but we can slow them down. Every second we buy gives Marko more time to set up our defenses. Remember, this isn't about glory or revenge. It's about survival. Stay sharp, stay together, and don't let them break you."
Benji, his youthful face smeared with dirt and sweat, nodded. "We won't let you down, Padrino."
Asuna, ever the calm voice amidst chaos, placed a hand on Padrino's shoulder. "We'll make it through this. Rimuru's not going to fall today."
Padrino wished he could share her confidence, but there was no time for second-guessing. The first wave of Galdros soldiers was almost within range.
"Positions!" Padrino barked.
The small group scattered, taking cover behind overturned carts, broken buildings, and whatever rubble they could find. Padrino took a deep breath, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to release. His mind was clear, focused on the immediate task: survive, protect, endure.
The clash was instant and brutal.
Galdros soldiers, well-trained and heavily armored, charged into the narrow streets of Rimuru with the precision of a war machine. Padrino and his fighters met them with a ferocity born of desperation. The sound of steel striking steel filled the air, the din of battle mixing with shouts of pain and fury.
Padrino cut down the first soldier who reached him with a swift, lethal strike to the neck. His sword moved with precision, each movement calculated and deliberate. But for every enemy he felled, two more took their place. It was a tide of death, and they were being swept away.
Benji fought beside him, his spear flashing in the dim light as he parried and struck with surprising skill. Despite his youth, the boy had proven himself time and time again. Padrino watched him closely, ensuring he didn't get overwhelmed, but Benji held his own.
Asuna, with her twin daggers, danced through the chaos, cutting down enemies with deadly grace. She was quick, moving in and out of the enemy ranks like a shadow, her strikes precise and lethal. But even she was beginning to tire.
Padrino glanced at the village square behind them, where Marko's defenses were still being prepared. They just needed more time.
"Fall back!" Padrino shouted over the din. "To the second line!"
The fighters disengaged, retreating in an organized fashion toward the next set of defenses. As they fell back, they triggered traps—hidden spikes and collapsing rubble—that slowed the Galdros soldiers and bought them precious seconds.
But it wasn't enough.
Padrino found himself back-to-back with Benji, surrounded by enemy soldiers. They had been forced into a narrow alley, their escape cut off by a wall of Galdros steel.
"We're not going to make it, are we?" Benji panted, his voice tight with fear.
Padrino glanced at the boy, his chest heaving from exertion. He wanted to lie, to tell Benji that everything would be fine. But he couldn't.
"Just keep fighting," Padrino said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "That's all we can do."
Before they could act, a surge of energy exploded from the alleyway entrance. A blinding flash of light filled the narrow space, followed by the sound of Galdros soldiers screaming in agony. Padrino blinked against the brightness, his vision slowly clearing.
Hinata stood at the mouth of the alley, her hands glowing with radiant magic. Her face was set in a mask of grim determination as she unleashed another blast of light, sending the enemy soldiers reeling back in pain.
"Move!" she shouted. "Get back to the square!"
Padrino didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Benji's arm and pulled him forward, Asuna following closely behind. They sprinted toward the square, where the remaining villagers had gathered behind hastily erected barricades.
Hinata followed them, her magic lighting the way. Her light magic was rare and powerful, capable of turning the tide of a battle. But Padrino knew it came with a cost—using too much of it could drain her strength, and she had already been using it extensively throughout the day.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Padrino said as they reached the square. "You can't keep this up."
"I don't have a choice," Hinata replied, her voice strained. "If I don't use it, we'll all be dead."
Padrino couldn't argue with that. He turned to Marko, who was directing the last of the villagers into position behind the barricades.
"Is everything ready?" Padrino asked.
"As ready as it'll ever be," Marko replied grimly. "We've set up ambush points in the buildings, and we've got archers on the rooftops. But it's not going to hold them for long."
"Then we make sure it holds long enough," Padrino said, his voice hard.
The final wave of Galdros soldiers crashed into the village square like a battering ram. They were relentless, pushing forward with a force that seemed unstoppable. But Rimuru's defenders, though exhausted and outnumbered, fought with a tenacity that surprised even their enemies.
Padrino fought in the thick of it, his sword cutting through the enemy ranks with brutal efficiency. Every strike was a reminder that failure meant the death of everyone he had sworn to protect.
Hinata, despite her fatigue, continued to unleash blasts of radiant magic, forcing the enemy back and giving the defenders precious moments to regroup. Marko directed the archers, their arrows raining down from the rooftops with deadly precision.
But it wasn't enough.
One by one, Rimuru's defenders fell, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Galdros army. The barricades were torn apart, and the village square became a bloodbath.
Padrino found himself facing the Galdros commander—a towering figure clad in dark armor, his eyes cold and merciless. The two locked eyes, and Padrino knew this was the moment that would decide everything.
The commander charged, his massive sword swinging in a deadly arc. Padrino barely managed to parry the blow, the force of it nearly knocking him off his feet. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, countering with a quick strike to the commander's side. The blade glanced off the man's armor, barely making a dent.
"You're finished, villager," the commander snarled, his voice dripping with contempt.
Padrino didn't respond. He was too focused on surviving the next few seconds.
The battle raged around them, but in that moment, it was as if time slowed. Every move, every strike, was a test of wills. Padrino knew he couldn't outmatch the commander in strength, but he didn't need to. He just needed to outlast him.
With a sudden burst of energy, Padrino feinted to the left, drawing the commander's attention. Then, with a swift movement, he spun to the right, driving his sword into a gap in the commander's armor.
The commander let out a roar of pain, but before he could retaliate, Padrino twisted the blade and pulled it free. The man staggered back, blood pouring from the wound.
"You…!" the commander gasped, his eyes wide with shock.
Padrino didn't give him a chance to recover. He stepped forward and delivered the final blow, his sword slicing cleanly through the commander's neck.
The Galdros soldiers, seeing their leader fall, hesitated for the first time. And in that hesitation, Padrino saw their defeat.
"Push them back!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "Push them back!"
And with a final, desperate surge, the defenders of Rimuru did just that.
The Galdros soldiers, leaderless and demoralized, began to retreat, their once unstoppable advance crumbling in the face of Rimuru's defiance. The villagers, bloodied but unbroken, watched in stunned silence as the enemy fled into the darkness.
As the dust settled and the last of the enemy disappeared into the night, Padrino collapsed to his knees, his body shaking with exhaustion. The battle was over, but the cost had been high.
Around him, the survivors of Rimuru gathered, their faces etched with grief and relief. They had won, but it felt like a hollow victory.
Hinata knelt beside him, her face pale from overexertion. "It's over," she said softly.
Padrino nodded, though he knew better. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
"We survived today," he said quietly. "But Galdros will come again."
"And we'll be ready," Marko said, stepping forward. "Next time, they won't find us so easy to break."
Padrino looked at the faces of his people—his family. They had fought, bled, and nearly died for Rimuru. And they would do it again, because that was the price of survival in a world that sought to crush them.
But for now, they had earned a moment of peace.