The village of Greenglade was never meant for war. Its people were farmers, smiths, and weavers, not soldiers. Yet as dawn crept over the horizon, a quiet determination settled over the battered streets. Orin Voss moved among his neighbors, offering guidance and lending his strength wherever it was needed.
Twelve hours. That was all the time the system had given him. The rift still pulsed in the sky, a sheen of violet light that refused to fade. Orin's mind replayed the warning over and over:
[Next wave estimated in 12 hours.]
He found Mira at the forge, sleeves rolled up, sweat streaking her brow as she hammered a length of iron into shape. She looked up as he approached, her eyes tired but resolute.
"Did you sleep at all?" she asked.
Orin shook his head. "No I didn't. Did you?"
She managed a small smile while shaking her head. "Didn't want to waste time. We need every blade we can get."
He watched her work, the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal oddly soothing. "You're good at this."
She shrugged. "My father taught me. He always said a sharp blade and a steady hand could solve most problems."
Orin glanced at the pile of makeshift weapons—pitchforks, axes, even a few kitchen knives. "Let's hope he was right."
They worked in silence for a while, the village slowly coming to life around them. Orin's system window hovered at the edge of his vision, tracking their progress.
[Quest Progress: 55% - Defenses Improved, Villagers Armed]
He moved on, helping Old Bram and a few others reinforce the barricades at the village's edge. They stacked crates, nailed planks together, and drove sharpened stakes into the ground. Orin demonstrated how to hold a weapon, how to brace for an attack. Some villagers listened eagerly; others grumbled, but all followed his lead.
As Orin handed out weapons, a small boy tugged at his sleeve. "Mister Orin, do you see numbers above our heads like in the stories?" The villagers nearby paused, curious. Orin grinned and knelt down. "Of course! Let's see… you have the highest mischief stat in the whole village." The boy giggled, and the villagers laughed, the tension easing for a moment. Mira rolled her eyes but smiled, and even Old Bram cracked a reluctant grin.
Master Harlan organized a makeshift infirmary in the chapel, tending to the wounded and preparing medicines . Orin checked in, offering a reassuring word to Joren, who managed a weak smile.
"Never thought I'd ever see you swinging a sword, Orin," Joren joked, his voice thin.
Orin grinned. "Neither did I."
As the morning wore on, Orin's nerves tightened. Every shadow seemed to move, every gust of wind carried the promise of danger. He found himself glancing at the rift, half-expecting monsters to pour out at any moment.
Mira joined him near the barricade, wiping her hands on her apron. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."
He laughed, the sound brittle. "I just… I don't know if it'll be enough. We're not warriors. I'm not even sure I am."
She nudged him gently. "You're more than you think. You gave us hope. That's more than most could do."
He looked at her, gratitude and something deeper flickering in his chest. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."
She blushed slightly , looking away. "Just don't get yourself killed, all right?"
He nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. The system chimed softly.
[Quest Progress: 75% - Morale Boosted]
The hours slipped by. Orin led drills, teaching villagers how to form a line, how to use their makeshift weapons. He assigned lookouts and runners, making sure every corner of the village was covered. The system rewarded his efforts with small boosts—an extra point in Endurance here, a new passive skill there.
[New Passive Skill: Leadership – Allies within range gain a minor boost to morale and resistance to fear.]
He felt the change immediately. The villagers stood a little straighter, their eyes brighter. Even Old Bram, ever the skeptic, offered a grudging nod of approval.
As the sun reached its zenith, a hush fell over Greenglade. The rift pulsed, brighter than before, casting long shadows across the fields. Orin's heart pounded as the system window flashed.
[Warning: Rift Instability at 100%. Next wave imminent.]
He gathered the villagers in the square, Mira at his side. "This is it," he said, voice steady. "Stay together. Watch each other's backs. We can do this."
A low rumble shook the ground. The rift split wider, and shadows spilled forth—monsters, smaller than the first beast but more numerous. They moved with unnatural speed, claws flashing, eyes burning with hunger.
Orin raised his sword. "Hold the line!"
The villagers braced themselves, weapons at the ready. The first wave crashed against the barricades, claws scraping wood and metal. Orin moved like a force of nature, his system feeding him information—attack patterns, weak points, the tide and flow of battle.
He struck down a snarling creature, then another, his blade moving with precision and power. Mira fought at his side, wielding a hammer with surprising skill. The villagers rallied around them, fear giving way to determination.
The battle raged, chaos and courage mingling in the air. Orin's system chimed with each victory.
[Enemy defeated. Exp gained.]
[Skill: Power Slash – Cooldown reset.]
He lost track of time, lost in the rhythm of combat. The monsters seemed endless, but the villagers held firm. For every beast that fell, another took its place, but Orin refused to yield.
A scream cut through the din. Orin spun to see a young boy cornered by a pair of monsters. Without thinking, he dashed across the square, sword flashing.
[Skill Activated: Power Slash]
He swept the blade in a wide arc, cutting down both creatures. The boy scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with terror and awe.
"Get to the chapel!" Orin shouted, and the boy ran.
The tide began to turn. The villagers, emboldened by Orin's example, pressed the attack. The monsters faltered, their numbers thinning.
At last, the final beast fell, dissolving into shadow. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.
Orin lowered his sword, exhaustion crashing over him. The system window appeared, triumphant.
[Quest Complete: Defend the Village]
[Reward: Skill Upgrade, Reputation Increased]
He looked around at the battered but unbroken faces of his friends and neighbors. They had survived. For now.
Mira touched his arm, her eyes shining with pride. "You did it, Orin. We all did."
He managed a tired smile. "We're still here. That's what matters."
Above them, the rift pulsed once more, indicating a silent promise that the fight was far from over.