== Roxy's STATS (image attached) ==
[Class] Water-Saint Magician
[Signature Skill]
Chanting Omission | Shorten the incantations up to 75% of it's cast time.
[World Ranking]
Rank <1024
Author's comments: I thought about adding these stats for each character woudl be really cool so I went ahead and added for each chapter! If you are curious about the power scalling of the characters go check them out previous chapters!
----- Roxy POV -----
*Buena Village Map (Image attached)*
The wind drifted across the plains in a long, gentle sweep, carrying the golden wheat into a rolling wave that shimmered beneath the sun. Above it, the rising black smoke stretched higher and higher, swallowing the blue‑white sky until the colors blurred together. The distant cries of women and children reached me through the fields, faint at first, then growing sharper, each voice cutting through the air with a trembling urgency that crawled along my spine and settled in my chest like a cold stone.
A sting brushed against my cheek, a small spark of heat that pulled me out of the numbness spreading through my body. I reached behind me for my staff, fingers brushing the familiar wood, but my hand trembled so violently that the shaking traveled up to my arm.
I stared at my hand, watching it struggle to steady itself even though Mackenzie's gallop beneath me was smooth and controlled.
"I don't remember the last time I was this terrified...."
The sting along my skin deepened as the heat from the spreading fire rolled across the village, pulling me out of the drifting haze that had swallowed my thoughts. I tightened my grip on the reins and reached back for my staff, the weight of the wood settling against my palm as I prepared for a quick draw.
As we neared the outskirts of the burning village, I guided Mackenzie into a slower stride, letting the gallop settle so I could take in the scene without losing balance.
I swept my gaze from one side to the other, tracing the movement of villagers fleeing toward the center of Buena. Laws had explained that in emergencies like this, when danger surged out of the forest, everyone was to evacuate towards the commercial hub deeper inside the plains.
However the land of Buena Village was deceptively flat. Farmers had shaped the ground by raising sections of earth to control the flow of water through their crops, creating artificial hills that rose as tall as a grown man, forming ridges and slopes that guided the irrigation channels.
Between the commercial hub and the residential district stood one of those elevated stretches, a five‑meter rise of compacted soil and reinforced stone and the earlier explosions had dropped large and heavy rumble on the only ramp passage connecting the two heights completely. The villagers who were supposed to escape through that route were now trapped, pushing against the debris with desperate hands.
In response to the collapse pathway, people from the commercial hu have taken action in extending ropes and arms to pull refugees up one by one. But the number of villagers fleeing from the burning homes had surged far beyond what the available assistance could handle. The crowd below pressed together reaching their hands in the air despearte to be chosen for the next one to get over the lump of height.
"Greeech!"
My gaze snapped to the right.
Flames clawed their way forward, devouring carts and homes as they closed in on the Commission Hub. Beyond the shifting wall of fire came a chorus of shrill giggles.
Goblins spilled into the square.
Some charged on crooked legs, small daggers and crude spears clenched in their bony hands. Others crouched atop hulking grey wolves as their mounts prowled through the smoke. Hungry eyes followed the fleeing villagers. Every frightened scream sent another ripple of laughter through their ranks.
I tightened both hands around my staff and planted my feet.
Something was wrong.
Goblins were dim creatures, but even they understood a hopeless fight. The villagers outnumbered them three to one. A grown goblin barely reached the size of a human child, and even a village youth could match one in strength. If the people stopped running and stood together, they could overwhelm this raiding party.
But they never had the chance.
The flames divided the streets and drove families in opposite directions. Wolf riders cut off every escape that remained, while the foot soldiers descended upon anyone who stumbled behind. Before the villagers could gather their courage, another scream tore through the smoke and shattered it.
No ordinary goblin could have planned an assault like this.
"The real threat had yet to reveal itself..."
"B-BACK OFF!"
My attention snapped back to the field.
A handful of young men had gathered before the fleeing villagers, clutching pitchforks and shovels with pale knuckles. Their feet shifted against the dirt, each man glancing at the others as though waiting for someone else to take the first step.
"Stay back!"
They thrust their tools toward the goblins and swept them through the air. The rusted prongs of a pitchfork cut through empty space. A shovel followed with a broad, clumsy swing that nearly struck the man beside it.
The goblins scattered with squealing laughter.
They sprang aside, ducked low, then crept forward again the instant the tools passed. Daggers clicked against spearheads as they rocked from foot to foot. One dragged the edge of its blade through the dirt, carving a crooked line closer to the young men.
The defenders shouted louder. Their trembling voices tangled together until no command could be distinguished from another. Behind them, villagers continued to push and stumble through the smoke, too desperate to notice the thin wall of farm tools standing between them and the advancing creatures.
One decisive charge would be enough to tear through that scrappy last stand.
I only have enough mana for a large area magic spell, so a surprise attack from the rear would scatter the goblins before they reached the young men.
But the mastermind directing this raid had yet to show itself.
Once I reveal my presence now, I am sure those goblin wolf riders will charge towards me, so I must preserve on mana for a mounted combat at ready.
Saving the villagers will only put me in danger... I should wait until the mastermind reveales himself and...
"No... Perhaps I've got this backwards-"
In the next instant, a dreadful surge of mana crawled across my skin.
My head snapped toward its source.
At the edge of the square, a goblin sat astride a hulking grey wolf. Dark tattoos twisted across its green flesh, spreading from its narrow chest to the tips of its clawed fingers. A deer skull covered its head, its branching antlers rising above the smoke like dead limbs.
The goblin lifted a battered wooden staff.
Its screech cut through the village.
The air around the staff bent.
Ripples spread through the smoke, warping the burning houses behind it. They raced across the square and struck the flames.
Fire erupted.
A blazing wave tore through the street and spilled over the rooftops. Nearby houses vanished behind pillars of flame. Burning beams and shattered tiles burst into the sky, then rained upon the villagers packed below.
"GAAH!"
"IT HURTS!"
"ARGH, SAVE ME!"
A flaming plank crashed into the crowd. Bodies collided as the survivors scrambled away, shoving one another beneath the falling debris. A woman stumbled and disappeared between their legs. A child reached for her before the smoke swallowed them both.
The goblin lowered its staff.
Behind the hollow eyes of the deer skull, its mouth stretched into a grin.
"The goblin shaman!"
He had finally revealed himself! But he is on a tricky position to shoot him down...
"Tch... I am going to need at least a large advanced spell to effectively kill him..."
Screeches tore through the square pulling my attention from my train of thought.
"GAAH!"
"SOMEONE, HELP ME!"
"PLEASE, GOD!"
Burning debris rained over the villagers, trailing sparks through the smoke. The crowd surged toward the gate at once. Shoulders slammed together. People shoved blindly for space, knocking the weak beneath their feet. Those who fell disappeared under the stampede as the others trampled over them, too terrified to stop.
The young men holding the last line turned toward the blast.
That single glance tore their formation apart.
The space between them widened. Pitchforks dipped. Before they could face forward again, goblins sprang through the gaps.
Four of them overwhelmed the nearest defender, dragging him down beneath their weight. Two more leapt upon the others. Crude blades flashed between flailing arms, stabbing into legs, stomachs, and exposed sides. Shovels and pitchforks struck the ground as their owners vanished beneath a mass of clawing green bodies.
The line crumbled.
Goblins flooded through the opening, leaping onto anyone who stumbled. Daggers rose and fell among the churning bodies. Their gleeful screeches tangled with sounds dragged from human throats, raw and broken, unlike anything I had ever imagined a person could make.
My body went cold.
I clenched my teeth and forced my eyes back toward the shaman. Smoke curled around the deer skull as he watched the carnage from atop his wolf, his staff resting across one shoulder.
This goblin shaman is capable of advanced magic casting, as an offensive mage myself, I cannot allow him to reign free on the battlefield!
Fortunately they have long recovery time frames and he still hasn't noticed my presence!
Strike him! Kill the goblin shaman!
The voice against my ear has gone loud enough for me to become self conscious about it.
A shudder ran down my spine.
Then another scream pierced the square pulling my attention.
Several goblins had dragged a young woman to the ground. One pinned her arms while another ripped at her clothes with filthy claws. She twisted beneath them, kicking hard enough to throw dust into the air, but a third goblin sank its teeth into her shoulder.
Her scream collapsed into a choking gasp.
What about the villagers... If I do manage to kill the shaman... I won't be able to save the villagers.
My staff rose before the whisper could speak again as I swayed the tip of the staff from the goblin's shaman and the villagers' positions.
Surrender your element of surprise?
The voice pressed against the back of my thoughts.
If you choose to not strike the goblin shaman now, we both know he won't hesitate striking you down once you are exposed.
A sweat ran through my face as I imagined those yellow eyes filled with disdain starring me down from that distance.
You've mentioned it yourself, those goblin wolf riders will chase you down as well, you won't be able to fend out the pursues while the shaman is striking you from the rear.
Mackenzie and I can handle a mounted battle. We'll stay beyond their reach and pick them off one by one!
Mackenzie stamped beneath me, her sides heaving against my legs. Sweat darkened the hair along her neck. Each breath left her nostrils in a ragged burst, and the reins trembled with every exhausted toss of her head.
You know she is at her limit.
The goblins dragged another young man beneath them. His shovel struck the earth once before disappearing among the flashing daggers.
My fingers closed tighter around the staff.
You will be caught.
"No, I won't!"
The words tore from my throat as I thrust my staff toward the square. Frost crept along the wood, spilling over my knuckles in pale streams. The air crackled as motes of ice gathered around its tip.
"Sovereign of Frost..."
You have heard the stories of women captured by goblins.
My breath caught.
They will not merely kill you. They will break your body, strip away everything you are, and leave you begging for death.
For a heartbeat, the screams in the square faded beneath the pounding of my heart.
"Shut up!"
"Greegh!"
An ear splitting shriek ripped through my thoughts.
I snapped toward the sound.
A tall figure streaked through the scattered villagers. His greatsword moved with him, flowing from one swing into the next as if the massive blade weighed no more than a reed. Each silver arc passed cleanly through the goblins savaging the crowd.
Green bodies came apart.
The force of his cuts hurled them through the air, limbs and torsos spinning above the villagers. Blood streamed from the open wounds, painting crimson ribbons across the smoke filled sky before splattering over the burning street.
"SCREEECH!"
The grey wolves sprang into motion.
Their riders swept around the lone warrior from both sides, tightening into a circle. Claws tore through the dirt as they prowled around him, searching for the first opening.
The man remained in a lowered stance.
His greatsword rested near the ground. His eyes followed the circling riders while the goblins leaned over their mounts, spears poised to strike.
A sharp whistle cut through the chaos.
A spear hurtled toward the back of his head.
He tilted aside and stepped back. The spearhead skimmed through his hair.
His body dropped with the motion.
The greatsword swept outward in a broad horizontal arc. Two wolves charged into its path. The blade tore through mounts and riders alike, splitting them apart before their momentum sent the severed bodies tumbling past him.
The thrown spear had yet to touch the ground.
He lunged and caught its shaft in midair. His boots twisted against the dirt as he spun, carrying the spear around with the full weight of his body.
Then he released it.
The weapon screamed through the air.
It punched through the final rider's skull and tore him from the saddle. His body snapped backward while the spear buried itself in the burning wall behind him.
"Gruuh?!"
The remaining goblins recoiled.
Their laughter died in their throats. Spears lowered. Daggers trembled in their hands as they stumbled away from the man standing among the fallen riders.
The man slowly straightened.
Steel plates covered him from neck to toe, scorched by the flames and streaked with goblin blood. An unmistakable green cape hung from his shoulders, fluttering in the heated wind as he turned his back on the terrified creatures.
A long sigh escaped his lips.
With his free hand, he swept his blond hair away from his face, revealing a pair of emerald green eyes. Neither pride nor fear disturbed their calm. He regarded the goblins with the weary confidence of a man who had already decided how this battle would end.
One glance was enough.
He was the real deal.
The tightness around my chest finally loosened.
The villagers no longer had to flee alone. This knight stood between them and the goblins, his bloodstained greatsword forming a wall none of the creatures dared approach. For the first time since the flames had swallowed the square, their desperate cries began to fade behind the clash of steel.
My gaze passed over the scattering goblins and settled upon the deer skull looming through the smoke.
Now I could hunt the goblin shaman without condemning everyone behind me.
You are fortunate.
The voice brushed against my ear once more.
"Perhaps..."
HOOOOORN!
A deep blast rolled across the square.
A smaller goblin beside the shaman lowered a crooked war horn from its lips. Its cheeks remained swollen as the final note trembled through the smoke and wrapped around my heart like a tightening fist.
Heavy footsteps answered the call.
Two hulking shapes emerged behind the shaman, taking their places on either side of its wolf. They stood nearly twice as tall as the other goblins, with swollen arms hanging past their waists and crude iron plates strapped across their chests.
Hobgoblins.
One dragged a chipped cleaver through the dirt. The other rested a spiked club across its shoulder. Low, menacing laughter rumbled from their throats as they lumbered into the square.
Across the battlefield, the knight's emerald eyes narrowed.
His fingers tightened around the hilt. He lowered his stance and brought the bloodstained greatsword before him as the two brutes advanced.
== Paul Greyrat STATS (image attached) ==
[Class]
Adcanced-Sword & Water & North Swordsman
[Signature Skill]
Lazy Genius | Quickly gains any weapon and martial art's mastery only up to its Advanced skill level.
[World Ranking]
Rank <1024