For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. The villagers at the palisade watched the green tide approach, their own deaths written in the gleam of crude steel and the glow of monstrous eyes. Then, a figure dropped from the roof of a shack, landing between the village and the horde with a soft thud that seemed to silence everything.
It was Kaelen. But it wasn't.
He stood alone, his back to them, a stark, black-clad silhouette against the roaring chaos. The morning sun glinted off the strange metallic hilt in his hand.
"What is that fool doing?" someone yelled from the wall. "He'll be torn apart!"
Then, a sound they had never heard before cut through the din—a sharp, electric snap-hiss, clean and resonant. A blade of pure, shimmering silver light, straight as a ruler and humming with contained power, erupted from the hilt. It cast no heat they could feel, but the air around it wavered, and the grass at Leo's feet seemed to wilt.
The blacksmith, a man who knew steel and fire, dropped his hammer. His jaw hung open. "By the forge... what magic is that? It's... a sword of light?"
Leo didn't hear them. His world had narrowed to the incoming wave and the points counter flickering in the corner of his vision. He took a deep breath, feeling the new energy core in his chest pulse in time with the lightsaber's hum. Enhanced legs coiled, and he shot forward.
He didn't run to the monsters. He flowed into them.
The first goblin, a scrawny thing with a rusted dagger, lunged. Leo didn't parry. He simply moved his wrist. The silver blade passed through the creature's weapon and its torso without resistance. There was no clang of metal, just a sizzling sound and a puff of acrid smoke. Two halves of the goblin fell in opposite directions. [+50 NP]
He became a whirlwind of silent, silver death. He wasn't a swordsman; he was a reaper. The lightsaber was an extension of his will, its weightless blade allowing for impossible changes in direction. A horizontal sweep cleared three goblins. A reverse grip behind his back caught a leaping one mid-air. He moved with his enhanced speed, a blur that the goblins couldn't track, each step, each turn, ending another life. The points tally scrolled, a steady, satisfying rhythm. 50... 100... 350...
A troll, twice his height and smelling of wet earth and rot, lumbered towards him, ignoring the goblins scrambling at its feet. It swung a tree trunk-sized arm, aiming to smash this irritating bug.
Leo didn't dodge. He dropped into a slide, passing between the troll's legs. As he did, he dragged the lightsaber upward along its inner thigh. The monster bellowed, not in pain, but in confusion as its leg suddenly gave way, severed tendons and muscle offering no support. It crashed to the ground with a ground-shaking thud. Leo was on it in an instant, the silver blade plunging into the base of its thick skull. The bellow cut off. [+500 NP]
He stood on the twitching corpse, his chest heaving slightly, not from exhaustion, but from exhilaration. The villagers were silent now, their fear momentarily forgotten, replaced by sheer, dumbfounded awe. They were watching a one-man army. Elara stared, her hand over her mouth, the anger she felt towards him completely erased by the terrifying, beautiful spectacle.
But the horde was endless. For every one he cut down, two more took its place. He was a dam holding back an ocean, and leaks were starting to form. A group of goblins scrambled past his flank, heading for a weak spot in the palisade where the wall was low.
"Hey! Over here!" a militiaman shouted, his voice tight with panic.
Leo's head snapped around. He saw them, but he was twenty paces away, surrounded by a fresh knot of enemies. If he broke his position to chase them, the main line would collapse. A cold calculation ran through his mind. Let the militia handle it? But if they broke through, the village would be distracted, the defense would falter... his farming efficiency would drop.
His points counter flashed: [NP: 198,110.]
So close.
He snarled in frustration, bisecting two goblins with a single, furious swing. He needed something more. He needed to control the entire battlefield, not just his immediate vicinity.
As another goblin slipped past, he made the decision. He focused, pulling up the shop mid-swing. He filtered, searched, and found it in a heartbeat.
[The Force (Adept) - 200,000 NP. Purchase?]
It would wipe out almost everything he'd just earned. But it was the key. The ultimate tool for a strategist.
"Confirm!" he grunted, ducking under a wild swing from a hobgoblin.
The knowledge didn't just flood his mind; it rewired it. He felt the universe in a new way. The air wasn't empty; it was a tapestry of energies, of pushes and pulls. The people on the wall, the monsters around him, the very stones on the ground—they all had a presence, a weight in the fabric of reality that he could now feel. And he could touch it.
The half-dozen goblins that had slipped past him were almost at the wall, raising their crude weapons.
Leo, still surrounded, simply stretched out his free hand.
The goblins froze in mid-stride. Their shrieks of bloodlust turned to confused gurgles. Then, as if grabbed by the hand of a giant, they were yanked backwards, flying through the air, limbs flailing. They sailed over the heads of their comrades and were slammed back-first into the ground directly in front of Leo with a series of sickening crunches.
He lowered his hand. The points notifications for the six kills popped up almost simultaneously.
He stood there, the humming lightsaber in one hand, the other hand still slightly outstretched. The monsters around him hesitated, their primitive minds sensing a fundamental shift. The power they faced was no longer just a sharp, fast thing. It was something that could reach out and crush them without ever touching them.
Leo turned his head, his masked gaze sweeping over the stunned horde. He could feel their fear now, a palpable tremor in the Force. A slow, dark chuckle escaped him, barely audible over the lightsaber's hum.
"Now," he said, his voice low and carrying an unnatural weight. "Let's try this again."
He took a step forward. The tide of monsters, for the first time, took a step back.
On the wall, the blacksmith finally found his voice, whispering the question on everyone's mind. "What... what in the name of all the gods is he?"