The treeline broke.
A pack of wolves erupted out of the darkness; horned pigs, wolves and many more screaming as they dived. Their eyes were faint red in the dark, their hunger obvious.
"Stand firm!" Alenya cried out above hysteria. Her little body stood firm, her sword held high.
The villagers held steady, spears trembling, as Torren's shield snapped into the barricade. Sela's bowstring thrummed out, and the first arrow flew straight into a wolf's eye. It fell before it even reached us.
The wave hit.
Claws scraped wooden barricades, tusks crashed against shields, and the howls of beasts and men merged into chaos. There I moved.
Magic swamped my body, but I contained it. I didn't summon my undeads for obvious reasons. My short-sword flashed in corkscrews of fire and gusts of air, cutting down monsters before they could break through. Each blow seemed ordinary, but every swing held enough to cut these little F to D rank beasts.
It looked like talent to them. To me, it was a suppression of myself.
Alenya fought near me, her sword splitting open a boar's hide. "Not bad for a stranger!" she shouted, blood spraying her cheek.
I smirked, driving my boot into a wolf's chest before skewering it. "You're not bad yourself."
Her grin widened briefly before another beast lunged at her.
The first major wave passed in an hour or so. Then the ground covered in the dead. The villagers clapped nervously, relief sparkling in their eyes. But I didn't relax. My magical sense began to tingle.
"They're not done," I said bluntly.
The ground trembled again.
The second wave struck even stronger. Bigger beasts this time with horned bears, armored reptiles, and packs of wolves twice as big as the first. They bellowed over the bravery of the villagers.
Shields up!" Torren yelled, his massive shield glowed dimly with fortified mana.
I let loose a measured blast of fire, enough to push the wolves back, but not so much as to reveal how much mana I really had. Bram's healing light swept over the line as villagers screamed and clutched spurting wounds. Sela's arrows hit true, but there were just too many.
Alenya and I fought together, cutting down beasts trying to batter the barricade. Her sword flashed and killed, mine was crushing and merciless.
A C-Rank bear slammed into the gate, splintering wood. I leaped, blade burning, and cleaved its skull with so much force that it tumbled down right away. Defenders' gases of shock vented.
"Did he just—?" a F-ranker grumbled.
"Pay attention!" I snarled back, not for questions.
As the last lizard fell, gasping quietly swept through the east gate. We were all exhausted, hands trembling, but I knew that the worst was yet to come.
And then I heard it.
A howl. It was low, extended and chilling.
This time, it wasn't dozens. Hundreds of D and C Rank wolves burst forth like a tide of life, their pack leader's howl driving them into a wild fit of rage. They had eyes aglow with ruddy fire. They hurled themselves against the barricade with such strength that the wood groaned like dry bone.
Villagers screamed, some recoiling in terror.
"Don't yield!" Alenya roared, her small frame bursting with a steel-hard voice. She held her sword aloft, the edge throbbing softly with mana.
I breathed slowly, my grip firming. I wanted to call forth my army of dead and sweep these beasts aside in an instant. But I couldn't. Not here. The Necromancer Temple and The Temple of Light will surely hunt me down even before I could run. I am still weak.
So I fought as I could like a man holding back a storm.
Wolves leaped over the barricade; I cut them down. Claws tore into shields; I batted them back with spouts of air. A horned wolf charged headlong at a huddled villager, and I was in front of it in a flash, chopping its head from its neck before it could bite.
To them, it was luck, desperation, perhaps hidden talent. But I knew the truth inside. Every step is just a fraction of my actual strength. Every blow was a ruse to conceal what I really was.
The battle continued, blood splattered on the ground, but we were still standing. Alenya's sword blazed with heat, Torren's shield did not break, Sela's arrows never faltered, and even the villagers discovered their courage.
When the last wolf fell, silence returned.
True silence.
Broken barricades. Bodies everywhere. But the gate still stood.
We had survived three waves.
Alenya leaned on her sword, chest heaving, sweat and blood streaking her face. She glanced at me, her eyes sharp but curious. "You fight like someone… hiding something."
I met her gaze calmly. "And you're too smart for your own good."
Her lips curled up into a thin, tired smiling line. She let it go.