The afternoon sun bathed Guana Village in warm gold as Qen and his companions packed the last of their belongings. Sacks of dried meat, bread, fruits, bundles of tools, and spare clothes were carefully stacked in the wagon. The horses pawed at the earth impatiently, snorting clouds of breath as if sensing the long journey ahead.
By the gate, nearly every villager had gathered. Children clutched flowers, waving them as farewells. Farmers, their faces worn but smiling, raised their tools in salute. Women whispered blessings under their breath, while the elder stood tall, leaning on his cane. His eyes, bright despite his age, followed Qen with a mixture of pride and sadness.
Qen glanced back one last time, taking in the sight. He lifted his hand in thanks, then flicked the reins. The wagon creaked forward.
The villagers erupted in cheers. "Safe travels!" "Come back again, Qen!" "Blessings on your road!"
Keir sat at the back, clutching his axe, his young face caught between pride and homesickness as he waved back at his parents. Hert leaned lazily against the side rail, ears twitching at the sounds of the crowd, while Freon paced beside the wagon with a steady gait, his head held high.
The dirt road stretched ahead like a winding ribbon through open fields and distant forests. Their journey to Touran City had begun.
---
The wagon rolled steadily, swaying on uneven ground. The scenery shifted as they traveled—tall trees cast sprawling shadows, fields of grass rippled under the wind, and massive boulders stood like ancient guardians. Plains stretched endlessly before merging with patches of dense forest.
The group quickly fell into their own rhythm of travel. Chren leaned back, whistling tunelessly with a grin. Hert, true to his nature, had already dozed off, arms crossed and ears drooping. Keir busied himself with his axe, scraping the edge against a whetstone, his movements focused and precise. Lady Elira, ever composed, nibbled at an apple, occasionally sneaking glances at the passing landscape with a kind of quiet wonder.
Qen held the reins steady, his eyes scanning the road with the soldier's habit of constant awareness. Still, even he allowed himself a small laugh as Chren's whistling grew deliberately louder, clearly trying to annoy Hert awake.
"Keep that up, and I'll throw you off this wagon," Hert muttered drowsily without even opening his eyes.
"Ah, so you are awake," Chren shot back with a smirk.
Elira giggled softly, hiding it behind her hand. For a brief moment, the road felt safe. Peaceful.
---
That peace shattered in an instant.
The horses reared, neighing in panic as Qen yanked hard on the reins. The wagon lurched violently to a stop, throwing everyone slightly forward. Hert jolted awake with a growl, hand flying to his weapon.
"What now?" he snarled.
Qen's eyes narrowed. Ahead, blocking the road, stood ten hulking figures. Green-skinned, broader than men, their yellow eyes gleamed with hunger and malice. Each one carried crude weapons—clubs wrapped with iron spikes, rusted swords, and heavy axes. Their twisted tusks protruded from snarling mouths.
Hobgoblins.
They had formed a wall across the path, muscles tensing as they prepared to charge. Their guttural voices rumbled, deep and mocking.
Chren's hand instinctively went to his sword. "Well, this just got interesting."
Keir swallowed hard, but his grip on the axe tightened instead of trembling. Hert bared his fangs, eyes glowing with the thrill of battle. Freon let out a low growl, hackles rising as he positioned himself in front of the wagon protectively.
Elira's breath hitched. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the side of the wagon.
Qen's voice cut through the tension, steady and commanding. "Everyone, get ready. We hold them here. If they break through, they'll tear the wagon apart."
The hobgoblins roared as one, the sound echoing through the forest like thunder. Then they charged.
---
The first impact was brutal.
A hobgoblin swung a massive axe downward, aiming to split Qen in half. Qen met the strike with his sword, the impact rattling his arms to the bone. He twisted his blade, redirecting the blow, then rammed his shoulder into the creature's chest. The hobgoblin staggered back, snarling, but another leapt forward immediately, swinging a spiked club.
Qen ducked low, the club whistling inches above his head. He slashed upward, cutting across the hobgoblin's arm. Blood sprayed, and the monster bellowed in rage.
Meanwhile, Hert burst into motion, leaping from the wagon with claws extended. His blade flashed, striking the nearest hobgoblin across the chest. The creature retaliated with a backhand swing, but Hert ducked beneath it, snarling like a wild beast. His movements were feral, precise—wolf instincts blended with trained skill.
Chren fought with a soldier's precision. His sword met the hobgoblins' crude steel with a flurry of sparks. He sidestepped a thrust, countering with a deep stab into a hobgoblin's thigh, then kicked it down before finishing with a swift strike to the neck.
Keir, though young, refused to hang back. He swung his sharpened axe with surprising strength, cleaving into a hobgoblin's leg. The beast roared, raising its weapon to crush him, but Freon lunged, massive jaws snapping shut around its arm. With a violent shake, the wolf tore it down. Keir wasted no time and buried his axe into its skull. His breath came ragged, eyes wide—not from fear, but from the shock of his first true kill.
"Stay sharp, Keir!" Qen barked, deflecting another blow.
"I—I'm fine!" Keir shouted back, gripping his axe tighter.
Elira crouched low in the wagon, eyes darting frantically. She wanted to help—but all she could do was pray they would survive.
---
The fight grew more chaotic.
The hobgoblins were strong, their blows heavy enough to split wood and bend iron. Every strike Qen blocked sent jolts of pain through his arms. Sweat slicked his brow as he maneuvered, always trying to draw their attention away from the others.
One particularly large hobgoblin, nearly as tall as two men, swung a massive greatsword down at Qen. The sheer force shattered the ground when it missed. Qen lunged forward, driving his glowing blade into the beast's gut, but the creature roared, grabbing Qen's shoulder with crushing strength. Pain exploded through him as claws dug deep, and blood seeped into his shirt.
"Qen!" Elira cried out.
Snarling through the pain, Qen twisted his sword, ripping it free in a spray of gore. The giant hobgoblin toppled, but Qen staggered back, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
Hert saw it and roared, his strikes growing more savage. He carved through two hobgoblins in a frenzy, his blade drenched red.
Chren cut down another, panting heavily. "There's too many—we can't keep this up forever!"
Qen gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright. The golden aura from before began to flicker faintly around him, drawn out by desperation. His sword glowed once more.
"Then we finish this," he growled.
He surged forward like lightning, his blade cutting through a hobgoblin before it could even react. The glow of his strikes seared through flesh and armor alike, each swing leaving a trail of light. Hert and Chren, emboldened, pressed harder.
Keir shouted, slamming his axe into another enemy, while Freon ripped into a hobgoblin's throat with savage ferocity.
One by one, the monsters began to fall. Their numbers thinned, their snarls turning to roars of pain and fear. Finally, the last survivor turned to flee, but Hert chased it down, cutting it across the back before it collapsed into the dirt.
Silence fell.
The road was littered with corpses. Blood stained the earth. The air was thick with the stench of death and sweat.
Qen stood in the center, chest heaving, his glowing sword dimming slowly. His wounded shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat, blood soaking through the torn cloth wrapped around it. He glanced at his companions—bruised, bloodied, but alive.
Keir collapsed onto the wagon's step, trembling, his axe still clutched in his hands. Hert spat on the ground, wiping blood from his cheek. Chren leaned on his sword, muttering curses under his breath. Freon shook blood from his fur, unscathed but exhausted.
Elira climbed down from the wagon, her face pale but her voice steady. "You… you protected us again."
Qen gave her a weary smile. "That's what soldiers do."
He looked at the bloodied road, then at his weary companions. Touran City was still far ahead—and if this was the welcome on the road, worse would surely await.
But for now, they had survived. Together.