Chapter 40: Incoming Attack
The guild had been a low hum of activity all morning, but by midday, it was like someone had kicked a hornet's nest. Messengers ran in and out with scraps of parchment. Adventurers in armor and cloaks slammed mugs on tables and barked orders at each other. It didn't take a genius to know what was happening, the countdown in my vision was practically screaming it.
I stepped outside, and the air hit me like a wall. Torak was moving. Fast.
Down the main street, citizens were being shepherded toward the center of the city, families clutching bags, merchants pulling carts loaded with whatever they could grab, guards shouting over the noise. Horses clopped through the streets, carrying crates of weapons or barrels of supplies. There was that distinct tension in the air, the kind you get in a movie just before the meteor hits, or the killer clown shows up in your bathroom mirror.
And leading the charge, literally were the Iron Fangs. Kaku was barking orders in that commanding tone of his, Kail was playing the smug elf as usual, and Trent was organizing a group of younger adventurers to help the guards direct people. Keyra, of course, was standing there with her arms folded, looking like she was already annoyed at the world.
I was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, not bothering to join the chaos yet. That's when I noticed Trent looking my way. His eyes narrowed, and I could almost hear his thoughts: What's the coward doing here?
Sure enough, he broke away from the group and walked over.
"Well, well," Trent said, his voice carrying that holier-than-thou tone only guys with perfect hair can pull off. "Didn't think I'd see you outside unless the tavern was on fire."
"Wow," I said, deadpan. "Strong opener. What's next? Gonna tell me how disappointed you are?"
He smirked. "You've got a real talent for disappearing when things get rough."
"And you've got a real talent for stating the obvious," I shot back. "What's your point?"
"My point," Trent said, stepping closer, "is that when this invasion hits, every sword in this city is going to matter. Even yours."
"Oh, don't worry," I said. "I was already planning on helping. In fact" …I leaned in slightly… "I've got a deal with Freya's father. Says I should stick with her, keep her alive. Guess that makes me her partner for the day."
Trent raised an eyebrow. "That so?"
"Yep," I said, keeping my tone casual. "Of course, she doesn't know that yet, but hey, minor detail."
"As long as you don't run off in the middle of the fight, I don't care," Trent said.
"That's touching," I said with a fake smile. "Almost like you believe in me."
He rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."
Before I could come up with another smart remark, a voice cut in from behind us.
"Trent, we need to go meet with the city lord and the city guard's chief about the evacuations," Keyra said.
Trent nodded. "I'll be over in a moment."
She glanced at me, and her lip curled like she'd just stepped in something. "What could you possibly be talking about with this fucking cunt?"
I gave her a slow smile. "Oh, don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel."
"No regrets saying it," she said.
"Good. No regrets hearing it," I replied. "Always nice to know I'm living rent-free in someone's head."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're just a coward with a lucky streak. Without that goblin chief fluke, you'd be fertilizer in some forgotten ditch."
I chuckled. "Funny, because last I checked, you were the one who was thanking me for saving those girls. Or am I misremembering?"
"You are misremembering," she snapped. "You didn't save them. You stumbled into a situation you barely survived."
"Details, details," I said, waving a hand. "Point is, I walked out alive."
Her hand twitched toward her weapon. "You've got a big mouth for someone who hides behind tavern walls."
"And you've got an ego bigger then your fat ass," I said. "Guess we both have our strengths."
Before it could escalate further, Trent stepped between us, his tone clipped. "Enough. We've got work to do." He turned to Keyra. "Come on."
She shot me one last glare before following him toward the center of the city. I gave her a little wave just to piss her off.
As they disappeared into the crowd, I leaned back against the wall again. The countdown ticked on in my vision. The air was buzzing, the city was shifting into its war stance, and for the first time today, I felt that itch in my gut.
This was going to be one hell of an afternoon.
Freya was at the guild doors, looking over a map with another receptionist. I walked right up, deciding to get it over with.
"Your father told me I should stick with you today," I said without hesitation, playing the same line I'd just given Trent.
Her eyes flicked up at me, cold and sharp. "My father said that?"
"Yeah," I said, keeping my face straight.
She gave me that you're full of shit look. "My father would never say something like that. Rorden was close to him. His favorite noble. He wouldn't… no, you're lying."
I sighed. "Alright, fine. You caught me. But I do want to stick with you. I figured tailing a strong veteran like yourself would be the smart move."
She crossed her arms. "You just want to fuck again."
I smirked but didn't answer right away. "Last night was… something," I said slowly.
"It was a mistake," she cut in sharply. "It's not happening again." Her tone left no room for argument. "Rorden is my fiancé."
The word fiancé hit harder than I wanted it to. I almost told her right then and there that her precious Rorden was dead. But that would lead to questions, questions I wasn't ready to answer. So I swallowed the truth and let it rot in the back of my mind.
"I'm not here to screw you again," I said, half lying. "I just need to be close to you until the invasion's over. Trust me on that, if nothing else."
She stared at me, her eyes scanning my face like she was reading a page she didn't like. "You won't tell me why, even if I ask… will you?"
"I will not," I replied plainly.
A long, tense silence stretched between us before she finally exhaled and stepped past me toward the door. "Fine. You can tag along. But since you apparently want to stick to me like a fucking parasite, you're going to help me."
"Whatever you say, princess," I muttered, falling into step beside her.
We left the guild hall together, heading northwest through the streets. The evacuation was still in full swing, guards ushering families along, adventurers shouting orders from intersections, the city feeling like it was bracing for a punch it couldn't dodge.
"I've been assigned a section on the wall," Freya explained as we walked. "If you're sticking with me, you'll be up there too."
"Great," I said. "Always wanted the scenic view when death comes knocking."
She ignored me, picking up her pace until we reached the shadow of the outer wall. The stone tower loomed above us, guards posted at its base checking gear and supplies. Without a word, Freya grabbed the ladder-like stone steps built into the side and began climbing.
I followed right behind her, boots hitting each worn stone rung until we stepped onto the top of the wall, wind cutting across our faces, the city sprawled on one side and the wild horizon of forest looming in the distance on the other.
The wall was alive with noise.
Not the casual hum of city life, but the sharp, desperate kind, boots stomping, armor clinking, shouts carrying orders from one end of the stone battlement to the other. It was like stepping onto the set of a medieval Saving Private Ryan, minus the rifles and Tom Hanks telling everyone to stay calm.
Freya moved with purpose, going straight to a small group of guards near the center of the wall. They were setting up heavy crossbows, massive, crank-drawn beasts with bolts the size of a short sword. I hung back, watching them haul crates of ammunition up the narrow stairwell.
I counted maybe thirty people in our section. Some were armored soldiers, others were leather-clad adventurers who looked like they'd signed up for "easy money" only to find out the gig included probable death by dismemberment.
"Make sure those oil barrels are placed behind the second barricade!" a captain barked somewhere down the wall. "We don't want them lit too early, or we'll torch ourselves instead of the bastards out there!"
Freya didn't waste time talking to me. She was already taking reports, checking the tension on bowstrings, inspecting the spikes they'd set along the lower edge of the wall to make climbing hell for anything with claws.
I leaned against a merlon and looked out toward the forest. Even from here, the treeline looked… wrong. The shadows inside were moving.
"Great," I muttered. "A thousand magical beasts, all pissed off because I punched their HOA president in the face. Totally fine. This is fine."
One of the younger guards, barely older than nineteen, gave me a look like he wasn't sure if I was joking or insane. I winked at him. "Don't worry, kid. If things go south, I'll make sure you die heroically so the bards can make a tragic song about you."
He did not laugh.
The countdown popped in the corner of my vision again: 65:13:42… 41… 40.
That was the part that really chewed at me. The ticking clock wasn't just about the invasion, it was about her.
Freya was leaning over the wall now, pointing at something to the northwest. I couldn't hear what she was saying over the wind and the clanging of metal, but her tone was clipped, sharp, pure command.
I hated to admit it, but she looked good up here. Commanding. Focused. Like the kind of person everyone else instinctively trusted in a crisis. And here I was, the wildcard idiot who had to make sure she didn't die.
As I wandered the wall, I caught snippets of conversation:
"All noncombatants have reached the inner quarter."
"The western gate barricade is in place."
"The Iron Fangs will be covering the northern breach."
Of course they would. That meant Kaku and Kail were probably already smirking at the thought of me getting torn apart out here.
I took my place near the crates of bolts, giving my sword hilt a pat just to remind myself it was there. "Alright," I muttered, "let's just hope the scriptwriters are feeling generous today."
From somewhere farther down the wall, a horn blast echoed, a deep, ancient sound that vibrated through the stone under my boots. The conversations stopped. The preparations slowed.
Freya turned toward me, her expression unreadable.
"They're closer than we thought," she said.