The night had begun to cast its veil over the village, but the usual tranquility was nowhere to be found. Shadows of fear loomed over the villagers' faces as they gathered around the wounded man. Blood still seeped from his hastily wrapped bandages, but the pain in his eyes was far greater than his wounds—his gaze shimmered with the weight of a tragedy no one was prepared to hear.
The man cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as he tried to suppress the tremor in it. Then, he began to speak, each word thickening the air.
"I... I am the only one who survived."
Silence fell. No one dared to interrupt.
"Everyone who was conscripted... never returned. The war... it wasn't what we imagined. The enemy's army was stronger, faster, and more ruthless than we ever thought. They didn't just defeat us... they crushed us."
He paused to catch his breath, while the villagers lowered their heads as if each word added weight to their shoulders. Many of them had sent their sons and husbands to war. Some began to weep, others cried out in anguish.
"The capital has fallen… The entire nation is under their control. We didn't just lose... we were destroyed."
Those words alone were enough to strike terror into their hearts, but the man had not yet finished.
"I ran to warn you… but they—" he faltered, lifting his severed arm. "I ran into one of their military squads. Fifty knights… roaming the villages, cleansing them. They are heading toward this region. I was wounded while trying to escape. They are coming… and very soon."
Silence.
Even those who had been crying stopped. The village had been smothered by a quiet so suffocating it felt unreal.
A state of shock spread through the crowd. No one had been prepared for such news. Their gazes darted between one another, searching for a glimmer of hope, a plan—anything to lessen the weight of their impending fate.
Whispers began to rise, but there was no courage in them.
The old man, who had been silently observing, let out a slow sigh. Then, he turned toward Sam and Rin, his eyes sharp and filled with a resolve that surpassed his years.
"Sam, Rin… come to the hut. We need to talk."
The Old Man's Plan
Inside his modest hut, the old man sat across from Sam and Rin, his eyes glinting with a wisdom and experience he had never revealed before.
"The situation is dire, but we are not helpless," the old man said, his voice calm yet firm.
He turned to Sam, his gaze piercing deep into him. "I know you have your secrets, and that your path is different. But right now, your fate is tied to this village. You made a promise to protect it for ten years… Now is the time to prove it."
Then, he looked at Rin. "Rin, you are not just my grandson. You are the heir to this land. You must show them that you are worthy of that legacy."
Sam nodded slowly. He did not need to be reminded of his promise. This was not just about the village… it was another test of his strength in the battle to come.
"We will fight together," Sam said quietly. "We will not let them destroy our home."
The First Battle
Two hours later, the villagers gathered in the center of the village. Their faces carried a mixture of fear and anticipation, but the presence of Sam, Rin, and the old man gave them a strange sense of reassurance. Yet, they all knew this night would not be easy.
Sam and Rin stood at the entrance of the village, their eyes locked on the distant horizon. The wind carried faint sounds—the rhythmic pounding of hooves, the whistling breeze weaving through the trees.
Slowly, the figures of the knights emerged, their silhouettes stretching under the moonlight, the sounds of their horses growing louder as they neared.
Sam took a deep breath. He knew that this battle would be a turning point—his first real fight.