The battlefield, soaked with blood and littered with the lifeless bodies of beasts and goblins, fell into a temporary lull. Villagers clutched their weapons with trembling hands, their eyes darting nervously between the forest and the mangled remains of the earlier attackers. The tension was thick enough to suffocate, and for a moment, silence reigned.
Then came the guttural roar—a deep, thunderous sound that rumbled through the air like a distant storm.
From the forest emerged a dozen orcs, their massive forms dwarfing anything that had come before. Standing over eight feet tall, their hulking bodies were covered in thick, scarred skin and rippling muscles. Each one carried a weapon—massive axes, crude hammers, and jagged swords that looked more like cleavers. Their faces were twisted with malicious glee, their tusks protruding as they grinned at the sight of so many prey gathered together.
The ground quaked under their weight as they marched forward, their footsteps heavy and deliberate. The villagers could feel the tremors in their chests, each step a reminder of the sheer power of the monsters advancing toward them.
"They're enormous," a villager whispered, his voice barely audible.
"We can't fight those," another muttered, stepping back in fear.
The orcs roared again, this time in unison, their cries echoing across the battlefield as they raised their weapons in a display of dominance.
Ayleen's sharp eyes tracked the advancing orcs. Her mana flared around her, and her expression hardened with determination.
"Orin," she called out to her husband, her voice steady despite the chaos. "I need time—just a few seconds. I'll prepare a large-scale spell to deal with them."
Orin nodded without hesitation, gripping his sword tightly. "Leave it to me," he said.
With a burst of aura, Orin charged forward, placing himself between the orcs and the villagers. His glowing blade cut through the air as he swung it in a wide arc, forcing the nearest orc to step back.
"Come on, then!" he bellowed, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "Let's see what you're made of!"
The orcs roared in anger and charged at him, their massive weapons swinging down with terrifying force. Orin met them head-on, his aura blazing as he parried and countered their strikes, buying precious seconds for Ayleen to prepare her spell.
Meanwhile, Aiden was still locked in battle with the remaining goblins. Despite their smaller size, the goblins' sheer numbers and cunning made them a relentless foe.
Aiden swung his sword in a wide arc, cutting down two goblins in a single strike. Blood sprayed across his face, but he didn't flinch. Another goblin lunged at him from the side, its jagged blade aimed at his chest. Aiden twisted his body, narrowly dodging the attack, and retaliated with a quick slash that severed the creature's head.
"Eva," he gasped, his voice strained. "What's the power level of those orcs?"
Eva's voice echoed in his mind:
"Power Level: 250, 270, 290, . . .
Aiden's grip tightened on his sword as his heart sank. Specialist rank… he thought grimly. We're barely holding back the goblins, and now this?
He glanced toward Seven and Eight, who were also struggling to keep the goblins at bay. Seven's earth magic had slowed the tide, but the goblins were relentless, breaking through his barriers with sheer persistence. Eight's wind blades were cutting through their ranks, but the number of goblins seemed endless.
"We need to finish this!" Aiden shouted to them, his voice tinged with desperation.
Despite the defenders' best efforts, some goblins managed to slip through their lines, rushing toward the villagers.
The sight of the small, shrieking creatures sent waves of panic through the crowd. Several villagers froze in terror, their weapons falling from their hands. Others, inspired by Aiden's bravery, mustered their courage and charged at the goblins with whatever tools they had—pitchforks, shovels, and even kitchen knives.
But the goblins were fast and cunning. They darted around the villagers' clumsy attacks, countering with savage efficiency. Screams filled the air as goblins slashed at their prey, leaving a trail of blood and broken bodies in their wake.
Aiden glanced over his shoulder, his heart sinking as he saw the carnage. He tried to cast a spell to help the villagers, but the goblins around him left no opening.
Behind Aiden, Ayleen finally completed her spell. Her body radiated with golden light as she raised her staff high into the air.
"Let this light purify the darkness," she intoned, her voice reverberating across the battlefield.
A massive wave of light erupted from her staff, spreading outward like a tidal wave. The blinding radiance washed over the orcs, illuminating every corner of the battlefield. The goblins screeched in pain as the light seared their flesh, and several collapsed, their bodies smoking.
The orcs fared no better. A large portion of their ranks disintegrated under the onslaught, their roars turning into anguished cries.
But a few orcs from North direction survived, their rage now directed entirely at Aiden's side of the battlefield.
The remaining three orcs charged toward Aiden with bloodlust in their eyes, their massive weapons gleaming in the light. Orin and Ayleen, seeing the danger, shouted warnings to their son.
"Aiden! Fall back!" Orin roared, his voice filled with urgency.
But Aiden didn't move. He knew that if the orcs reached the villagers, there would be no one left to stop them. He glanced at the golden shard in his hand, his jaw tightening.
"Eva," he whispered, "activate the seed. Strengthen me."
As the shard glowed faintly, Aiden felt a surge of power flood his body. His muscles tightened, his reflexes sharpened, and his entire being seemed to hum with energy.
With a battle cry, Aiden charged at the orcs, his sword blazing with mana.
The first orc swung its massive axe at him, but Aiden ducked under the strike and drove his blade into its chest. He twisted the weapon and pulled it free as the orc fell, blood gushing from the wound.
The second orc roared in anger, raising its hammer high. Aiden dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered with a powerful slash that severed the orc's arm. Before it could recover, Aiden leapt onto its back and drove his sword into its neck, killing it instantly.
The third orc, enraged by the deaths of its comrades, charged at Aiden with its cleaver raised. Aiden met its attack head-on, his sword clashing against the crude weapon. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through his arms, but he held firm. With a final burst of strength, he drove his blade into the orc's throat, ending the fight.
As the last orc fell, the battlefield grew quiet once more. The villagers let out a collective sigh of relief, their exhaustion palpable. Some collapsed to their knees, while others wept openly for those they had lost.
Aiden stood amid the carnage, his sword dripping with blood. He turned and saw Rodrick kneeling beside a lifeless body, his father's. Tears streamed down Rodrick's face as he shook his head in disbelief.
"No… no… you can't be gone," he sobbed, clutching his father's hand.
Nearby, Lily sat beside her mother's body, her face vacant as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't speak, didn't cry out—she simply stared, her small frame trembling.
Aiden watched them, his chest tightening with guilt. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white as the weight of the battle settled on him.
If only I hadn't been selfish, he thought bitterly. If only I'd told my parents about Two and the others when I first found out... none of this would have happened.
His thoughts were interrupted as Ayleen approached him. She knelt beside her son and pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly.
"It's not your fault," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.
Aiden's composure broke, and he began to cry. His small frame shook as he sobbed into his mother's shoulder, tears of pain and guilt pouring out of him.
Ayleen held him close, stroking his hair as tears filled her own eyes. Orin stood nearby, watching silently with a somber expression. His strong shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of the day visible in his posture.
As Ayleen comforted her son, Orin glanced at the villagers, many of whom now stared at their family with awe and respect. They had seen the power and courage of the seemingly ordinary family, and their perception of them had forever changed.
The battle was over, but its scars would remain.