The days following the Trial were tense for Seito. People pointed at him, whispered behind his back. The children who had once played with him calmly now looked at him with timid respect and some fear. Alvin had stopped talking to him altogether, only throwing angry, prickly glances full of resentment and injustice.
Seito tried to act normally: he helped his father, ran errands for his mother, trained away from prying eyes. But now his every move, every accidentally displayed agility was under the spotlight of public attention. He felt like he was under a magnifying glass.
It was at this time that the tension hanging in the air of Stonedale since the worg tracks were discovered reached its peak. Patrols returned gloomier than storm clouds, and at night, strange sounds not belonging to the local fauna sometimes came from the forest—short, hoarse calls.
One evening, as Seito was getting ready for bed, the very sound the whole village feared rang out—the deafening, rapid ringing of the community bell. Alarm. Not a drill, but the real thing.
Seito's heart skipped a beat. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the window.
Chaos reigned outside. People were running down the main street with pitchforks, axes, and bows. Shouts, commands, children crying. And from the direction of the palisade, from the western outskirts, came not distant, but close, furious screams and the clang of metal.
"Stay home! Don't go anywhere!" Ayame shouted to him, grabbing her sickle and locking the shutters. Her face was white as chalk.
Kenshi was already at the door with his large axe, his face stern and immobile.
"Lock the door after me," he threw to his wife and dashed outside, merging with the crowd of men running towards the fight.
Seito couldn't stay inside. Fear for his father, for his mother, for the whole village drove him forward. It wasn't just curiosity—it was that same cold clarity that came in moments of danger. He was a part of this village. And he couldn't let it perish.
"Mom, I... I'll hide in the cellar!" he lied and, while Ayame was distracted checking the door bolt, slipped into a dark corner of the room, and from there—into a small gap in the floor leading to the crawl space, which only he knew about. From there was an exit to the street, used in extreme cases.
He crawled out and, pressing himself against the walls of the houses, rushed towards the western palisade.
The scene that met his eyes was like hell. Several sections of the palisade were broken and blazing from tar torches. They were pushing through the breaches—goblins.
They were shorter than humans but stocky and wiry, with green skin covered in scars and small, evil bead-like eyes. They were armed with crooked knives, serrated short swords, and nail-studded clubs. There were about twenty of them, no more, but their fury and savagery compensated for their lack of discipline.
The village men, led by Orric and Kenshi, formed a tight formation, repelling the attacks. Cries of pain rang out—both human and goblin. The air smelled of smoke, blood, and something sour, bestial.
Seito froze, paralyzed with horror. This wasn't the same as a lone worg pup. This was a real battle. Chaotic, bloody, and deadly.
And in that moment, the system he was so afraid of revealing became his only savior.
The interface exploded before his eyes, but this time not in red, but in a cold blue color—the color of tactics and calculation.
[CRITICAL SITUATION: Village Defense]
[OBJECTIVE: ASSIST THE DEFENDERS. PREVENT A BREAKTHROUGH.]
[ADDITIONAL OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE.]
[TACTICAL ANALYSIS MODE ACTIVATED.]
Time slowed down for Seito again. His panic was suppressed by the power of his own "Will." He saw everything from a bird's-eye view. He saw the goblins beating against the wall of shields and spears created by the villagers. He saw one of the attackers, slightly taller and stronger than the others, probably the leader, trying to flank them with a group of three others.
It was this group that broke through the smoke and chaos and rushed towards the houses—right to where his mother and other women with children might be.
*No!* he screamed mentally.
His body moved on its own. He didn't think about being a child. He thought like a strategist. Like the system.
He grabbed a discarded hunting knife from the ground—short but sharp. His "Light Blade Proficiency" skill was only level one, but it was enough for now.
He didn't run directly at the goblins. He ran to the well standing in the square. Nearby lay a bucket of water and an old, thick rope.
[Suggestion: Use the environment. Rope. Dagger. Speed.]
He acted lightning fast. He tied one end of the rope to the knife's handle and wrapped the other around his hand. He saw the goblins already running up to their house. He saw the door cracking under the blows.
He took aim. Not at the goblins. At a thick beam protruding above the door of their shed, which stood opposite.
His "Agility" and "Balance" were working at their limit. He made the throw.
The knife, spinning, buried itself in the wood. The rope stretched taut, blocking the goblins' path at chest level.
The first one, not noticing the obstacle, ran into it at full speed and crashed to the ground. The second tripped over him. The third, the leader, stopped, looking around with a growl, trying to understand what was happening.
This delay was enough. Kenshi, who noticed the danger near his house, with a loud cry, cut off the head of one of the goblins in the general melee and rushed to the rescue, pulling two other men with him.
The goblin leader, seeing reinforcements, let out a piercing shriek—the signal to retreat. His kin, hearing him, began to fall back towards the breaches, dragging the wounded and their loot.
But one of them, the one who had tripped, got up and saw Seito—a small boy with a rope in his hands. Anger clouded his mind. With a roar, he rushed at him, raising his serrated knife.
Time compressed to the limit for Seito. He saw the approaching blade, the snarling maw full of rotten teeth. He smelled blood and sweat. He tried to jump back but tripped over a stone.
And in that moment, his hand moved on its own to meet the threat. Not with the knife—it was tied to the rope. His palm opened, and all his being, all his will, all his fear burst out in a golden impulse.
It wasn't a spark. It was a blinding, hot flash of pure energy erupting from his very heart. It hit the goblin right in the chest.
There was a soft thud. The creature was thrown back like a ragdoll. It fell, a black, charred mark smoldering on its chest, smelling of burnt meat. It didn't move.
[Threat neutralized. Experience gained.]
Seito lay on the ground, breathing heavily. All his mana was completely drained. He felt utterly empty, squeezed dry. Black spots swam before his eyes.
The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was his father's face leaning over him, full of horror, pride, and something else he couldn't understand.
And then there was silence. The battle was over.