The first rays of dawn hadn't yet broken the treeline when the drums began. Slow at first—like the heartbeat of something ancient and uncaring—then growing louder, heavier, until the very earth beneath Ridgebrook trembled. Liam stood at the center of the northern wall, gripping his spear so hard his knuckles turned white. Every villager, every militia recruit, every refugee-turned-fighter stood frozen, staring into the forest where the torches swayed like a river of fire.
"Steady," Sun Tzu said, walking calmly along the wall. "The battle has not begun. Fear wastes breath."
Vlad laughed from atop a log barrier. "Let them hurry. My hands itch."
Weapons rattled in trembling fists. Oil simmered in iron pots. The militia formed ranks—ragged, imperfect, but present. Ridgebrook held its breath.
Then the forest erupted.
Rathmore's soldiers marched out in formation—shields aligned, spears angled, armor gleaming beneath torchlight. Forty men. Then fifty. Then more. Liam felt his stomach drop.
"Holy shit…" he whispered. "That's… a lot."
Sun Tzu exhaled. "Fifty-three. Two officers. One elite among them. Rank 3."
Liam's heart skipped. "Rank 3?!"
"Yes." Sun Tzu pointed subtly at a man near the center—thick armor, heavy spear, scar crossing his jaw. "Captain Ferric. A butcher from Rathmore's border wars. He kills without hesitation."
Vlad's grin widened. "Oh, I like him."
"Do not fight him alone," Sun Tzu warned.
Vlad only shrugged.
A horn blared from Rathmore's side. Their formation shifted—tightening, sharpening like a spear aimed at Ridgebrook's heart.
"Positions!" Liam shouted.
Archers raised bows. Shield carriers braced. Spears lowered.
The second wave began.
Rathmore's soldiers advanced in disciplined ranks. Shields interlocked. Spears angled forward. Their boots struck the earth in perfect rhythm.
"Hold!" Liam shouted. "Hold!"
A few militia men whimpered. One prayed. Two backed up instinctively.
Sun Tzu's voice cut through fear like a blade. "Break formation and you die. Stay, and you live. Breathe. Focus."
The soldiers charged.
"NOW!" Liam screamed.
Flaming oil poured from above—splattering across the front line of Rathmore's formation. Screams erupted as fire consumed cloaks and leather straps. Their shield wall buckled.
"Archers!" Liam yelled.
Arrows flew, striking exposed gaps—shoulders, arms, legs. Three soldiers fell. Four staggered. But the bulk pushed through the flames with terrifying resolve.
"Steady!" Liam cried.
The militia braced as the first wave smashed into Ridgebrook's spears.
The impact shook the whole line.
Screams tore the air. Metal clashed. Spears splintered. Liam thrust his own weapon forward, feeling bone give way as it slid into a soldier's shoulder. The man screamed, collapsing. Liam pulled back, panting hard.
A second soldier rushed him. Liam barely dodged, stumbling. His arms felt heavy—too heavy. His breath burned. His heart hammered.
He was too slow.
Rank 1… wasn't enough.
A spear lunged toward his chest—
Then Orin appeared, slamming her shield into the attacker, knocking him sideways. "Stay alive, Chief!" she yelled, swinging her spear and cutting the man down.
"Thanks—" Liam tried to say, but she had already moved on, eyes blazing.
Vlad crashed into the flank a moment later like a demon unleashed. He tore a soldier off his feet, impaled him through the lung, and hurled the body into another. Screams followed him wherever he moved. The militia surged with renewed courage in his wake.
Sun Tzu directed archers and shifted formations, his voice calm even amid the chaos. "Shift left! Plug the breach! Spearmen, rotate!"
But Captain Ferric finally stepped forward.
"RIDGEBROOK!" Ferric roared. "YOU WILL BURN!"
He slammed into the front line, scattering spearmen like children. His Rank 3 aura—heavy, oppressive—crushed the air around him. One swipe of his spear shattered a militia shield. Another blow sent a man flying into the barricade.
Liam felt his breath choke.
The difference in rank was suffocating.
Sun Tzu shouted, "Avoid him! Do not engage—"
But Ferric was already moving toward Liam, eyes locking onto the young chief.
"You're the one they're whispering about," Ferric snarled. "Let's see if you die loudly."
He thrust.
The spear blurred.
Liam moved too slow.
The blow grazed his ribs—shallow but deep enough to tear flesh. Pain exploded through him. He fell to one knee, gasping.
"CHIEF!" Lira screamed somewhere behind him.
Orin charged Ferric, thrusting her spear at his flank—Ferric kicked her away effortlessly, sending her skidding across the dirt.
Sun Tzu drew a dagger, stepping in. "Retreat, Liam!"
Ferric swung to kill Sun Tzu—
Vlad intercepted.
Their weapons clashed with a thunderous crack.
Ferric staggered slightly. Vlad grinned, blood splattered across his teeth. "Finally, a worthy one!"
Ferric snarled and shoved Vlad back, their strength sending shockwaves through the battlefield.
Liam tried to stand—but his knees shook. His vision blurred. He couldn't breathe properly.
He was too weak.
Too slow.
Useless.
Villagers were dying because he couldn't keep up.
He slammed his hand into the dirt, teeth grinding. "Not… now… not today…"
Something deep inside him surged—heat flooding his veins, breath burning through his lungs, heart hammering like a forge.
His vision sharpened.
Sound vibrated clearer.
His pulse roared.
He heard Sun Tzu's voice from earlier in his mind—
"Pressure refines iron. Crisis creates opportunity. Breakthrough occurs when death is one breath away."
Liam inhaled sharply.
And the world snapped into focus.
A tremor ran through his body as his qi surged—wild, painful, violent—forcing his muscles to tighten and his senses to sharpen.
He had broken through.
Rank 2.
Liam rose.
Ferric noticed. "What—?!"
Liam didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, spear thrusting faster than before—Ferric blocked, but the blow made him grunt. "You're stronger…"
Liam didn't answer. He attacked again—faster, sharper, forcing Ferric back a step.
Just one step.
But it mattered.
Orin rose behind Ferric, blood trickling from her lip. "Chief!"
"Hit his legs!" Liam shouted.
She thrust low—Ferric blocked, snarling.
Vlad attacked from the other side—Ferric barely kept up.
Sun Tzu yelled, "Militia! Support them! Surround!"
Soldiers swarmed Ferric. He roared, pushing them back with sheer force, but now he was surrounded. Overwhelmed. Pressured.
Liam struck again.
His spear pierced Ferric's shoulder.
Ferric screamed.
Then Vlad drove his blade straight through Ferric's back, bursting from his chest.
Ferric choked, eyes wide—falling to his knees.
Ridgebrook roared.
The enemy formation shattered. Soldiers fled into the forest, abandoning weapons and shields. The militia pursued, cutting down stragglers. Flames rose where traps were sprung.
The second wave collapsed.
Ridgebrook had won again.
Barely.
Liam swayed, almost collapsing—but Lira caught him.
"You—you broke through…" she whispered, eyes wide.
Orin stared at him with something like awe. "You idiot. You scared the hell out of us."
Vlad threw Ferric's corpse aside. "More," he said simply. "Send more. This is too fun."
Sun Tzu finally allowed himself a breath. "The battle is won. But war… war has only started.
Liam checked the Ledger again, breath shaking.
[NEXT SUMMON: 1 DAY]
Tomorrow… help would arrive.
And Ridgebrook would need it.