The sky turned gray as horns echoed across the walls. The demon army had arrived.
Smoke began to rise from the west side of the city, where the first gate had been breached. The townsfolk had already evacuated, leaving only soldiers, volunteer adventurers, and a handful of brave souls prepared to fight.
The adventurer stood among them, eyes scanning the battlefield. Elaina watched from the tall tower where the strategy was being directed, her hands gripping a map with little dots of moving stones. She had spent the whole night preparing the plan, calculating routes, placing marks for ambush points, and rerouting the few mages and archers the city had.
On the walls, several adventurers and knights gathered, still hesitant.
"Are we seriously trusting a kid to handle strategy?" one of the older mercenaries whispered.
"She's smart, but this is a real fight. We need real experience," another muttered.
Elaina stepped forward without hesitation. "I may not have a sword, but I know how to win. You're free to ignore me and die on your own terms—or follow the plan and live long enough to regret doubting me."
There was a pause. Then Kaela, already armored and ready, stepped beside her and smirked. "Trust her. You'll thank her later."
The tension eased. The adventurer, below the tower, nodded to her once. She smiled, mouthed, "Don't be reckless."
Then it began.
Steel clashed. Screams filled the air.
The demons swarmed like ants—twisted beasts with claws and fangs, some lizard-like, others with fire-coated skin. Winged horrors dove from the skies, shrieking as they clawed at the archers. Insectoid demons skittered across the walls with unnatural speed. At the rear of the demon ranks stood two monsters: a giant goat-headed mage wrapped in black robes, and a towering skeletal figure in knight armor, glowing eyes locked onto the city.
Kaela fought on the front lines, graceful but fierce. Her sword danced like flame, cutting down smaller demons with trained ease. She moved with rhythm and strength, parrying a horned demon's strike and slicing clean through its arm in one breath.
The adventurer wasn't far. He fought without a weapon, his hands moving fast, disabling enemies with sharp strikes to the neck, shoulder, or legs. He ducked under a sweeping axe, slid between two claws, and knocked out a beast twice his size with a jab to the throat. His movements were fluid and calculated—no wasted energy, just purpose.
A massive, horned demon lunged toward Kaela from above, leaping from a rooftop with claws extended. Its roar tore through the sky.
She didn't see it.
The adventurer did.
He ran without thinking. His foot slid across broken cobblestone as he jumped, slamming his shoulder into the demon mid-air. The beast grunted as it was thrown off its trajectory, crashing hard into a stone wall. It slumped unconscious.
Kaela staggered, caught off guard. She was falling—until a pair of arms caught her.
One arm behind her back, one under her legs.
A princess carry.
"Oh?" Kaela raised a brow, flustered but teasing despite the chaos. "Is this how you treat all the ladies you fight beside?"
He blinked, completely deadpan. "Only the clumsy ones."
"Rude!"
He set her down and turned, launching himself back into the fray, helping a group of struggling fighters by disarming and tripping a demon before it could maul a young knight.
"You're… everywhere," one of them gasped.
"I move where I'm needed," he replied, sweeping the demon's leg and knocking it out with a palm strike.
From her tower, Elaina watched with clenched fists. Her mind raced.
The numbers aren't going down. The demons keep coming. If this keeps up…
Then her gaze shifted—toward the skeletal general who hadn't moved. And the goat-like mage, whose staff glowed with a deep red sigil pulsing like a heartbeat.
"They're not fighting yet," she whispered. "They're waiting. They're feeding something…"
She slammed her fist down and turned to the messenger nearby. "Signal the archers. Fire everything we have at the mage. Now!"
Back in the chaos, the adventurer stood still for a moment. He glanced toward the mage, then toward the direction of the wall. Fire arrows blazed toward the goat-headed demon—but a barrier blocked them. It didn't even flinch.
Kaela panted beside him. "This is insane… It's like nothing is enough."
He looked around. Many were injured, others retreating in fear. They were holding—but barely.
Then his foot bumped something.
A sword. A basic iron weapon, likely dropped by one of the fallen guards or adventurers. No markings, no aura. Just a forgotten tool.
He stared at it.
Maybe it's time to use one, he thought.
He picked it up.
It was heavy—but familiar. He adjusted his grip and stepped forward again.
Then something happened.
As he lifted the blade to block a demon's strike, a faint white thread of light flickered across its edge—thin and dancing, almost invisible. Like a thread tied to the hilt, glowing softly, quietly.
He didn't notice at first.
But Kaela did.
She froze mid-swing, her eyes wide. "W–Wait… what is that?"
The light shimmered brighter for just a second, running down the blade like silk unraveling.
"That's not just from the sword…" she whispered, stunned. "That's… coming from you."
He looked down.
A single thread of light shimmered from his palm, connecting to the blade.
He didn't speak. He just stared at the sword, then tightened his grip.
His eyes narrowed.
Then the battlefield around him lit up—not by fire, not by torches—but by the sudden gleam of light running down a single blade.
A light that wasn't meant to shine. Not yet.
The tide was about to turn.