The demons reached Almsworth far sooner than anyone believed possible.
Before fear could fully take root, their shadows had already swallowed the land before the great wall—five hundred feet of stone reinforced with ancient runes and a shimmering barrier meant to defy calamity itself. The ground trembled beneath their advance, each step echoing like a funeral drum.
High above, archers flooded the ramparts.
Bows were drawn, strings pulled tight, breath held. At the center stood Yami, commander of the archer division, Freya's father, his presence calm, his eyes sharp as steel. He raised a single hand, then brought it down.
"Fire."
The sky darkened as arrows rained like a storm, screaming through the air and piercing demon flesh. Several beasts fell, shrieking as they crashed into the dirt below, but others simply raised clawed hands and caught the arrows mid-flight, snapping them like twigs with mocking ease.
Then the commanders stepped forward.
Two towering figures clad in blackened iron armor advanced from the legion, their bodies massive, their presence crushing. Arrows shattered harmlessly against their armor, sparks flashing as if steel mocked wood. They neither slowed nor flinched.
Beside them marched three sub-commanders, smaller, yet no less terrifying, moving with the disciplined stride of dark knights. Their eyes burned with intelligence, not savagery.
The demon commanders lifted their weapons and pointed toward the wall.
The legion roared. Thousands surged forward at once, claws digging into stone, bodies piling over one another as they began to climb. The barrier flickered violently under the strain, cracks of light rippling across its surface.
"Keep firing!" Yami shouted, veins bulging in his neck.
Arrows flew again and again, hands moving until fingers bled, but it wasn't enough. The demons were already on the wall.
The demons swarmed the wall in waves, claws slashing and fangs snapping, yet the archers did not fall as expected.
Steel rang and magic flared but the barrier held strongly.
Across the village, mages raised their hands in unison, veins glowing with arcane light as power surged into the shield that wrapped Almsworth like a second skin. The air vibrated under the pressure.
"Hold it steady!" Heline, leader of the Mage Corps, commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Push more mana, don't let it thin!"
The barrier brightened, resisting the demons' relentless assault.
Then, something changed. Almost immediately.
One of the demon commanders lifted a clawed hand. The legion froze. With a sharp downward motion, the order was given.
The demons on the wall leapt back, retreating in perfect discipline, vanishing from the stone like a tide pulling away from shore.
An archer blinked, disbelief filling his face.
"They're… retreating," he said softly.
Then louder voice of hope breaking through fear.
"THEY'RE RETREATING!"
Cheers rippled along the wall. Archers laughed breathlessly. Mages exhaled, sweat-soaked and trembling, pride blooming in their exhausted eyes.
But Mr. Wills did not smile.
"No…" he muttered, eyes scanning the battlefield with dread.
A retreat made no sense. Unless...
His face drained of color.
"PROTECT THE GATE!" he roared, sprinting toward the ramparts.
But it was too late. The ground exploded.
Two colossal demons emerged from the dust, towering even over the wall's shadow. They raised massive, rune-etched axes, magic screaming along their blades.
With a single, synchronized strike—
BOOM!
The gate shattered. The barrier cracked like glass, fragments of light scattering into nothingness as stone and iron were torn apart. The shockwave knocked soldiers from their feet.
It had been a deception from the start. The climbers were never meant to breach the wall.
The demons were bait.
The two gigantic demons stepped through the shattered gateway with deliberate slowness, each footfall shaking the broken stone beneath them.
They stopped just inside the ruins, one to the left, one to the right, standing like living towers, silent sentinels guarding the breach they had created. Smoke curled around their armored bodies as if the air itself feared them.
Above, on the wall, Yami drew his bow.
His fingers were steady, his breath controlled, mana flowing into the arrow until it hummed with lethal intent. One shot, just one, and he would prove that even giants could fall.
"Don't bother."
The Demon commander spoke killing every sound on the battlefield. It stepped forward through the gate, walking like kings.
Dark mana poured from their bodies, thick and suffocating, crashing into the defenders like an invisible tide. Soldiers staggered. Knees buckled. Some weaker men collapsed outright, gasping for air, their weapons slipping from numb fingers.
"Talking demons."
Mr. Wills felt his blood run cold.
In all his years, every battle, every calamity, he had never seen such a thing.
And worse…he knew.
I wouldn't last ten seconds against them.
Outside the gate, the remaining demon legion waited in perfect formation. The three sub-commanders stood motionless among them, weapons grounded, eyes fixed forward, awaiting nothing but a single command.
One of the demon commanders raised its sword. The blade pointed directly at Wills.
"Are you the strongest?" the demon asked, its voice calm, almost curious, yet carrying absolute authority.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then Wills stepped forward. He planted his feet, squared his shoulders, and forced his fear deep into his chest where it couldn't be seen.
"I don't know what you're talking about, big guy," he said, voice steady despite the crushing pressure.
"But if you want this village…"
His sword lowered into a ready stance.
"You'll have to pass through me first."
The commanders smiled just enough.
With a slow, almost appreciative motion, they lifted their swords and pointed them forward.
"Attack."
The word fell like a death sentence.
"ATTACK!" Mr. Wills roared back.
The battlefield erupted.
Knights charged, shields raised.
Swordsmen followed, blades flashing.
Archers loosed arrows in volleys.
Mages unleashed torrents of flame, ice, and lightning.
Summoners called forth beasts and spirits. Monks surged forward, fists glowing with sacred force.
Behind them, healers formed tight defensive circles, desperately trying to keep everyone alive.
The demons poured through the shattered gate and spilled down from the walls like a living tide, slipping past the two towering commanders and their three sub-commanders with terrifying discipline.
Steel clashed, screams followed.
One of the sub-commanders stepped forward, its armored boots crushing broken stone beneath its weight. It raised its blade and pointed it straight at Mr. Wills.
"Come at me."
Wills did not hesitate. He surged forward, sword flashing, and in that instant the battlefield descended into cold-blooded war.
Humans fell, and demons with them.
Blades tore through flesh, magic detonated bodies, blood soaked the ground until the stone itself turned dark. Yami cast aside his bow and leapt from the wall, gripping his long spear, the uniquely designed blade at its tip spinning through the air.
Each strike cleaved demons cleanly in half. Heads rolled, bodies split.
But then....
A sub-commander appeared before him.
Their weapons collided again and again, sparks bursting with every clash. Yami's muscles screamed as he was driven back inch by inch. The demon was stronger, heavier and relentless.
For the first time, Yami was being overpowered.
The knights' formation shattered.
Demons broke through shields as if they were paper, crushing defenses with ease. This wasn't a battle to them, it was child's play.
Another sub-commanders shifted its focus, locking onto Heline, who barely had time to reinforce her spell before the pressure slammed into her like a mountain.
Three sub-commanders Vs Three Almsworth champions; Wills, Yami and Heline.
Matched against monsters far beyond their limits.
High above it all, Ethan had arrived.
He stood atop the tower of Almsworth, cloaked in shadow, watching calmly as humans and demons died alike. Screams echoed below him, blood painting the streets, yet his expression did not change.
To him, it was almost… beautiful.
DING!
— SYSTEM MESSAGE —
[Weapon: Black Blade]
[Access: Granted]
The sword formed in his hand, pitch-black, swallowing light itself.
Ethan stepped off the tower. He fell like a shadow.
He struck the ground and surged forward, cutting into the demons that had already breached the village. Bodies fell before they could even scream.
On the battlefield, the Knight Commander realized the truth too late.
"Fifty swordsmen!" he roared. "Fall back and protect the village!"
But demons were already everywhere.
Heads were severed mid-charge. Arms flew. Legs were crushed. Humans were split cleanly in half as if made of cloth.
Wills grunted as pain exploded through his chest.
The sub-commander's blade tore him open, blood spraying as he staggered backward. Before he could recover, the demon swung again, aiming for his arm.
Wills barely raised his sword in time.
Metal screamed as the blades locked.
His knees buckled. And as the demon leaned in, strength overwhelming him, Wills understood something terrifying...
This battle wasn't about victory, it was more on survival.
A scream tore through the mage formation. Then another. Then dozens.
Demons crashed into the arcane line, ripping through spell circles as if they were paper. Fire spells fizzled, ice shattered uselessly. The mages' mana simply wasn't enough.
"They're breaking through—!" someone shouted.
The mages fell one by one.
Wills' sword arm trembled, Yami's spear shook in his grip while Heline could no longer maintain her barrier.
They were losing.
"Help—!" an archer screamed, the cry cut short as a demon slit his throat in a single motion. Bodies dropped from the wall. What remained of the human army was no longer an army, just scattered fighters fighting to die slower.
Blood soaked the streets....
The two gigantic demons turned away from the battlefield. They began destroying the village.
Houses collapsed under massive blows, stone and wood crushing families inside. A mother screamed as rubble pinned her legs, reaching toward her child buried beneath debris. Small hands twitched from broken walls. Then went still.
Almsworth was no longer a battlefield but a slaughterhouse.
Heline collapsed to one knee, magic drained to nothing. Yami's spear slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly on the ground. They couldn't even lift their weapons anymore.
Wills stood barely breathing with cuts covered his body. Blood dripped from his fingers as his knees finally gave out. He knelt on the stone, staring at the ground beneath him, vision blurring.
"So this is how I die…" he whispered.
He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry… Bolivia… Ane… please forgive me."
The sub-commander raised its blade.
The edge descended toward Wills' neck....
And burst into flames, the demon screamed.
Wills' eyes snapped open.
"What... ?"
He turned his head slowly. Fire walked across the battlefield.
A man advanced through smoke and corpses, his mana erupting like a living inferno. Flames wrapped around his body, his sword burning so brightly it scorched the air itself.
Every step cracked the ground.
"Is that...?" a soldier gasped.
"The chief…" another whispered.
"It's the chief!"
Zane had arrived.
The moment the demon commanders sensed him, they stiffened.
"Hold," one commanded.
The sub-commanders paused as Zane kept walking.
No one dared stop him. Humans stepped aside instinctively, wounded soldiers dragging themselves out of his path. The battlefield went with full cheers, a great joy mixed with the sound of fire and footsteps.
Hope flooded the broken ground like light after endless night.
Wills laughed weakly, wiping blood and tears from his face.
"So… you're finally here," he said hoarsely. "Took you long enough."
Zane stopped in front of him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said calmly, flames roaring higher.
"Get healed. Fall back."
His eyes lifted toward the demons.
"I'll handle them."
Wills didn't argue.
"Fall back!" he roared with what strength he had left. "All units, withdraw! Protect the injured!"
Soldiers obeyed instantly. The battlefield cleared in almost an instance.
Now, only Zane stood before the demon army.
One man against calamity.
And for the first time since the invasion began... Almsworth had hope.