The alarm bell rang before dawn.
It was not the steady rhythm used for drills.
It was sharp. Urgent. Continuous.
Leon was already awake when the second toll echoed across Valcrest Manor.
He did not hesitate.
Armor. Spear. Boots.
By the time he stepped into the courtyard, guards were scrambling into formation. Messengers ran between towers. Smoke drifted faintly from the eastern horizon.
His father emerged fully armored, expression grim.
"Eastern watchtower," he said. "Multiple signals."
"How many?" Leon asked.
"More than last time."
Leon felt the weight of it settle.
Not a test.
Not probing.
Escalation.
He mounted without further words and rode hard toward the eastern perimeter. The armored warrior kept pace effortlessly, shield secured across his back, spear steady in hand.
The closer they rode, the clearer the signs became.
Broken trees.
Tracks.
Not one set.
Many.
Leon slowed near the ridge overlooking the eastern farmland.
His breath caught.
At least a dozen crimson eyes moved between the trees.
And beyond them, deeper shadows shifted.
The first creature stepped forward.
The same lean shape he had fought before.
It stood at the forest's edge, claws flexing slowly.
Behind it, more emerged.
Smaller.
Faster.
Hunting pack formations.
Leon dismounted calmly.
He could feel his heart pounding.
Not from fear.
From calculation.
If they broke through here, villages would burn again.
If he retreated, morale would shatter.
If he charged alone, he would die.
He turned to the armored warrior.
"How many can you hold?"
"As many as you can command."
Leon's jaw tightened.
Not helpful.
He looked at the approaching pack.
The leader tilted its head slightly.
"You gathered," it rasped.
"Yes," Leon replied evenly.
It laughed softly, the sound dry and jagged.
"You cannot hold against what wakes."
Leon stepped forward, planting the spear firmly in the earth before him.
"Then we will see."
The first wave charged.
Leon did not rush.
He waited until the distance closed.
Then he thrust.
The first beast fell instantly, pierced through the throat.
He withdrew and pivoted, forcing space rather than pursuing.
The armored warrior moved in tandem, shield intercepting a leaping creature mid-air before driving his spear forward with brutal precision.
Two down.
Ten remained.
They spread out, attempting to flank.
Leon adjusted his stance.
"Stay tight," he ordered instinctively.
The armored warrior shifted closer, shield angled outward.
The beasts circled.
They had learned from the previous fight.
They did not charge blindly.
They probed.
One darted forward.
Leon feinted high, then redirected low into its chest.
Another lunged from the side.
The shield caught it.
Leon stepped inside its reach and drove the spear beneath its jaw.
Four down.
But fatigue crept faster this time.
There were too many.
A beast slipped past his guard and slashed across his thigh. Pain flared sharply. He nearly lost balance.
The leader watched from the treeline.
Waiting.
Measuring.
Leon forced himself upright.
He could not collapse now.
The remaining beasts charged together.
Not staggered.
Coordinated.
Leon's breath slowed.
He planted his rear foot.
He remembered the pivot drills.
The corrections.
The countless repetitions at dawn.
The world narrowed.
One thrust.
Clean.
Second thrust.
Precise.
The armored warrior stepped in close, shield locking against Leon's left side.
For a brief moment, they formed a true line.
Claws struck shield.
Teeth snapped inches from flesh.
Leon drove the spear forward again and again, each strike measured, controlled.
The pack thinned.
But so did his strength.
His thigh burned.
His arms trembled.
Only three remained.
Then two.
The leader stepped forward at last.
The others retreated slightly behind it.
Its crimson eyes burned brighter.
"You improve," it hissed.
Leon's breathing was heavy now.
"I practice."
The creature lunged with terrifying speed.
Leon barely intercepted with his spear shaft, the impact sending shock through his arms.
The armored warrior moved to flank.
The creature twisted mid-air, claws slashing across the shield with enough force to crack the metal.
Leon saw the opening.
Not at the throat.
At the rib joint beneath the forelimb.
He stepped in.
He committed fully.
The spear pierced deep.
The creature screamed, a sharp, inhuman sound.
It twisted violently, claws raking across Leon's shoulder before collapsing.
Silence followed.
The remaining beasts scattered back into the forest.
Leon staggered.
The armored warrior caught him before he fell.
"Hold," the warrior said quietly.
Leon forced himself upright.
"No."
He looked toward the forest.
The crimson eyes had vanished.
For now.
Guards from Valcrest arrived minutes later, stunned by the scene.
Dead beasts lay scattered across the field.
Leon stood among them, bloodied but unbroken.
His father rode up shortly after, eyes widening at the sight.
"You faced them alone?"
"With one," Leon replied.
His father's gaze shifted to the armored warrior.
"We will fortify immediately," his father said.
Leon nodded.
"Yes. And expand patrols in rotation. No predictable patterns."
His father studied him.
"You are thinking like a commander."
Leon did not answer.
He was thinking like someone who could not afford another siege.
As healers treated his wounds, the system spoke.
Multi-target engagement survived.
Significant battlefield merit achieved.
Summon capacity increasing.
Leon's eyes flickered.
"How many?" he asked internally.
Capacity: 2.
Not an army.
Not yet.
But progress.
That night, as the manor settled into uneasy quiet, Leon stood in the training grounds once more.
The armored warrior stood beside him.
Then, beside the first, another shape formed.
Similar armor.
Similar shield.
Another spear.
It knelt silently.
Leon stared.
Two.
He felt no overwhelming surge of power.
Only increased responsibility.
He looked at them both.
"We will not wait for them to grow stronger," he said quietly.
The first warrior responded.
"The line strengthens."
Leon nodded.
But far beyond the forest, beyond the crimson-eyed leader's corpse, something vast stirred.
The fallen creature's final scream had carried.
And what heard it did not feel anger.
It felt interest.
Valcrest Manor had survived a pack.
What would it do against a tide?
Leon stared into the darkness beyond the walls.
He did not know.
But he would prepare.