The stench of blood had already soaked into the soil long before Daniel arrived.
The clearing was torn apart—tree trunks gouged by claws, earth churned into mud by frantic movement, and the bodies of demonic beasts scattered like discarded refuse. Yet despite the carnage, the battle was far from over.
At the center of it all stood a young girl aged sixteen.
She was alone.
Twelve demonic beasts had descended upon the village outskirts, drawn by the scent of fear and flesh. They were low-ranked, but their numbers made them lethal—hounds with split jaws, horned crawlers with plated backs, and razor-limbed predators bred solely for slaughter.
Five of them already lay dead.
Their deaths were not clean.
One had its skull crushed inward, the bone shattered so completely that its brain spilled onto the dirt. Another lay twitching, its eyes reduced to pulp, throat pierced by a short sword that had been driven in with such force that the blade snapped near the hilt. A third had been flayed open from chest to abdomen, organs dragged out in a savage arc.
The girl had done this.
Her breathing was ragged, chest heaving as blood—some hers, most not—dripped from her arms and soaked into her clothes. A long whip coiled and uncoiled in her hand like a living serpent, its length stained dark with gore. Each movement sent fresh pain through her battered body, but she did not slow.
She could not afford to.
The remaining beasts circled her.
They were learning.
Their snarls were lower now, more cautious, yellow eyes tracking her movements with predatory intelligence. They spread out instinctively, cutting off escape routes, claws scraping against stone and roots as they closed in.
The girl shifted her stance, feet digging into the ruined ground. Her grip tightened around the whip, knuckles white despite the blood slicking her palms. The short sword in her other hand trembled—not from fear, but from exhaustion.
She had already passed the point where her body begged her to stop.
Now it simply screamed.
A horned crawler lunged first.
The whip cracked.
It did not strike its body—it struck its eye.
The beast screamed as the orb burst, black blood spraying outward. Before it could retreat, the girl surged forward, ignoring the tearing pain in her side as she drove the short sword upward through its open jaw.
Steel met bone.
The blade punched into its skull.
She twisted.
The crawler collapsed instantly, limbs spasming before going still.
Six dead.
But the price came immediately.
Two beasts attacked at once.
One raked her shoulder, claws tearing through flesh and armor alike. Another slammed into her ribs, sending her skidding across the dirt. Pain exploded through her body, hot and blinding. She tasted blood.
The girl forced herself up before they could finish her.
She moved on instinct now, survival overriding thought. The whip lashed outward again, wrapping around the leg of a charging hound. She yanked hard, dislocating the limb and dragging the creature off balance.
She did not hesitate.
She stepped in and stabbed downward repeatedly.
Once.Twice.Three times.
Each strike was brutal, ugly, fueled by desperation rather than technique. By the time she withdrew the blade, the hound's chest was a mangled ruin.
Seven.
Her arms were numb. Her vision blurred at the edges. Every breath felt like shards of glass slicing her lungs.
The beasts sensed it.
They rushed her together.
This time, there was no finesse.
The girl met them head-on.
The whip snapped wildly, bones cracking under its force. One beast lost its snout entirely, flesh tearing away as it screamed and stumbled back. Another bit down on the whip itself, teeth grinding against metal fibbers of the whip.
The girl let go.
She lunged forward instead, tackling a third beast to the ground. They rolled violently, claws ripping into her back as she drove her short sword into its throat again and again, screaming through clenched teeth as warm blood poured over her hands.
The beast finally went limp.
Eight.
She shoved the corpse aside and staggered to her feet, barely standing now.
Her legs shook uncontrollably. Blood streamed from multiple wounds. Her left arm hung heavier than it should have, possibly fractured. Still, she turned to face the remaining four.
They hesitated.
Not out of mercy—but confusion.
This human should have fallen already.
She raised her sword again.
Her eyes burned.
She would not retreat.
One beast pounced.
It never reached her.
A flash of motion split the air.
The creature's body was cleaved apart mid-leap, falling in two wet halves that slapped against the ground with sickening finality. Another beast's head exploded a heartbeat later, crushed by an unseen force.
The remaining two froze.
Daniel had arrived.
What followed was not a battle.
It was a mass slaughter.
The beasts attempted to flee, but space itself seemed to reject them. One was pinned in place by invisible pressure before its spine snapped backward with a sickening crack. The other barely managed a scream before its body collapsed inward, crushed into a pulped mass of bone and flesh.
Silence returned to the clearing.
The girl finally dropped to one knee.
Her sword slipped from her fingers, embedding weakly into the dirt. She swayed, vision dimming as adrenaline drained from her system. Only sheer stubbornness kept her conscious.
Daniel approached slowly, taking in the scene.
Twelve demonic beasts.
Eight of them killed by her hand.
Not cleanly. Not efficiently.
But decisively.
This was not the work of a pampered noble or a trained soldier backed by numbers. This was the work of someone who chose to stand when everyone else ran.
The girl had fought knowing she would likely die.
She had fought anyway.
Daniel felt something settle inside him.
Approval.
This was the kind of brutality required to survive the coming war. Not cruelty—but resolve sharpened into something merciless.
As the struggled to stay upright, Daniel looked past the clearing toward the distant village. Smoke rose faintly above the treeline. No reinforcements had come. No banners flew. No horns sounded.
The nobles had abandoned them.
Left the people to be torn apart while they hid behind stone walls and titles.
This girl was proof of what remained when authority failed—raw, bleeding defiance.
Daniel knew then that this encounter was not coincidence.
This woman did not belong to a forgotten village doomed to be trampled.
She belonged on a battlefield that would decide the fate of realms.
And whether she knew it yet or not, her stand here—bloody, desperate, and unyielding—had just earned her a place in something far greater than survival.
It had earned her a future forged in war.
What is your name Daniel asked?, my name is maria ,a noble lady of the village of Achilles. well maria i would like you to join me in a journey to create a safe heaven for humanity, all this suffering could be ended if you joined me in this journey, Daniel said with pride in his tone, he then picked up a healing pill from his pocket and gave it to her, the effects were immediate as her injuries started to heal and her breathing stabilized. Maria then said come in the village it would be rude if i don't invite you in for some snack.