Brenn stood at the edge of the palisade, arms folded, scanning the scene.

  He had seen all this before: the hurried repairs, the whispered prayers, the darting glances toward the treeline. A hollow routine.

  Grainwick buzzed with the subdued tension of preparation.

  The celestial giant loomed, its position in the sky heralding the long night.

  Hammers struck wood in rhythm as villagers reinforced the barricades, their faces lined with exhaustion and worry.

  This wasn’t the frantic chaos of an unexpected attack—it was the weary resolve.

  A young guard approached him, shifting his weight nervously. “Sir, do you think it’s still out there?” the boy asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  “The predator?” Brenn said gently, hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Of course it is. A beast like that doesn’t just disappear. But don’t worry. It's not your night to die.”

  The guard paled but nodded. Better scared than dead.

  Brenn turned his head towards the rumble of hooves that broke through the tension, drawing every head toward the main road.

  A column of knights emerged from the forest, their polished armor gleamed unnaturally bright in the dying sunlight.

  They made it. The villagers parted instinctively, forming a narrow path. Brenn noted the mix of expressions around him—relief, unease. Mistrust from some.

  The knights rode in perfect formation, their discipline sharp enough to cut through the thick tension of the village.

  Unless you were experienced enough to notice the cracks.

  At their head was a man whose bearing alone commanded respect.

  Sir Viel, the senior captain in service of house Collender, sat tall in his saddle, his expression calm and composed.

  His armor, though polished, lacked the gaudy embellishments of his subordinates, a practical choice that Brenn appreciated.

  As Viel dismounted and approached Brenn, the other knights formed into ranks. That’s when the cracks began to show even to the untrained eyes.

  While some moved with the same professional demeanor as their captain, others strutted with an arrogance that was impossible to miss.

  Young nobles, Brenn observed bitterly.

  Sons of lords playing at soldiers, more concerned with their own importance than the mission at hand. Brenn addressed the man with a tone of familiarity.

  “Sir Viel. Old friend. Is this sorry bunch how your lord repays his debts?”

  The knight’s face didn’t so much as twitch as he grabbed the extended left hand. “I assure you beyond doubt, they are fierce and powerful fighters.”

  Brenn chuckled hollowly “Oh I realize – And how many of them bad apples?”

  Sir Viel’s facade cracked, as he shifted uncomfortably.

  But he wouldn’t lie… not to me. “Around half. But I’ll manage them personally, that’s why I came.”

  Brenn’s fists clenched. These weren’t reinforcements – they were liabilities. “Did you plan on razing Grainwick to the ground?” He seethed through his teeth.

  “This isn’t what I wanted either, believe me – but everyone judged your ‘predator’ to be an easy hunt, perfect for their children to earn glory.” Viel tried to keep his tone steady, but his tense jaws betrayed him. “We’ll get it quickly and be out before trouble can arise.” he said.

  Their conversation halted as both men’s gazes locked onto a young knight straying from the line, his intentions clear as he eyed one of the passing women.

  Brenn clenched his teeth as he watched Viel excuse himself to approach his subordinate.

  The armored boy, no older than twenty, with a smug grin plastered across his face, approached the green haired girl carrying a bundle of herbs.

  He sauntered over, his armor clicking faintly and leaned far too close.

  The woman shrank back, clearly uncomfortable, but unsure of what was happening.

  Before the man could open his mouth, an authoritative voice startled him from behind.

  “Sir Calland Kira, step back in line or be bound and sent back to your father this instant.” The knight commander said, his tone dripping with threat. At least he isn't playing around.

  The knights around them smirked, but none were brave enough to laugh out loud at the son of a grand house.

  The woman quickly scuttled away; her eyes fixed on the ground.

  Once the troublemaker made his way back into formation, the commander addressed the villagers. “Proud people of Grainwick! I am Sir Viel, captain of this knight force,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority and experience. “We have been sent to eliminate the unique threat in your lands. My forces and I will remain here until it is neutralized. We will depend on your hospitality.”

  There was a murmur of relief from the crowd, and most faces were happy, despite the incident that just took place. Na?ve bunch.

  Brenn turned his attention back to the knights.

  Darryl had already begun leading them into prepared housings, his instructions clear and efficient.

  But he could see it clear as day – the moment Viel wasn’t watching, those children would bring all sorts of trouble.

  Now, with the growing monster and rowdy knights, they had two timebombs ticking simultaneously – and he couldn’t decide which worried him more.

  His remaining hand adjusted the straps of his shield, and he headed toward the palisade.

  “Protectors of the realm.” he muttered, spitting into the dirt as he walked away.

  Dusk turned into the night and the next day, the long night would come yet again.

  The morning started early and bright, with rays of golden light bringing a warning from the Goddess.

  Darryl stood watch at the palisade, directing villagers in last minute efforts.

  They were all doing their best, but their movements lacked the frantic determination, the fear, he got so used to lately.

  The sky turned orange, then red before he got a chance to sit down – just in time to watch the order of twenty nine knights move in, ready to do battle.

  Villagers watched in awe as the glittering parade made its way towards the gate. Let’s see what they got.

  Most of the knights came equipped in full plate, each carrying a sword, shield and a spear. Some wore armor that left their arms more freedom - those were equipped with bows and hatchets.

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  All enchanted, of course. Darryl scoffed, but quickly schooled his expression - The man at the head of the column turned and approached him.

  “Sir Viel.” Darryl inclined his head.

  “No need for formality now.” The old man smiled, his helmet resting in his arms. “Are the coming hordes truly as large as the reports said?”

  “For artifact-wearing knights? No.” Darryl smirked. “I’ve yet to see the unique myself, but it should be your main concern.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” The knight commander paused. “We’ll be taking the field - make sure your men watch out for any stragglers.”

  Sir Viel turned around and walked back to his order.

  Soon, the sky deepened to an inky black as the moon began swallowing the last rays of sunlight. Darryl tightened his cloak around his shoulders.

  Everyone was waiting with bated breath. Tonight guards were to stay put… and ‘watch how it's done’.

  Brenn wasn’t even there, he was busy organizing the villagers deeper inside.

  Sir Viel led the knights outside the palisade, past the trenches and barricades. They occupied the flat land in front of the village - a distance away from where the slopes of the forest ended.

  They stood in loose ranks in the middle of the field, stabbing their long torches into the ground.

  Darryl’s attention was fixed on the treeline, where shadows danced unnaturally, but he quickly found himself in an unexpected company.

  A child of, maybe 8, was peeking through the gates, hugged close to the palisade. Curious.

  He was about to approach him, but the first screech pierced the night, sending shivers down the human spines.

  It wouldn’t be long now until the monsters came.

  Observing the battle took priority over some random child with morbid curiosity. Darryl shrugged and turned his attention back towards the field.

  The knights closed their ranks, into a convex formation - Spears and shields in the front, archers in the back. At the center of it all was sir Viel.

  Then, the first wave came - Boarmen brutes emerged from the forest, snarling. They raced down the hill in a deadly charge.

  Arrows whistled. A few monsters fell on the way.

  The mindless charge crashed into the braced spears - A dozen monsters dead in an instant.

  But a much larger tide of monsters was already running down the hill. Hundreds of boarlets, dozens adults and another group of brutes - They came in an avalanche of flesh as they trampled over one another.

  Darryl was about to bring everyone and come to their aid - but sir Viel caught his eye. The old man had the audacity to smile and raise a hand to stop him.

  Don’t blame me if someone dies.

  Archers swapped to enchanted fire arrows. They kept shooting at incredible speed.They certainly didn’t lack funds.

  Monsters dropped like flies, ravaged by the imbued explosions.

  The spears tore through the charge of brutes, their corpses joining the bloody mud. But the suicidal attack gained ground for the rest of the rabble.

  The battle turned into a melee.

  Boarlets climbed the bodies of their brethren, both dead and alive, jumping onto the knights. They were cut down mid air as the knights swapped to their swords.

  The monsters, too many to fight at once, spilled to the sides. They’re getting encircled.

  Darryl was starting to get worried again. Damn the orders, we should go out and help. A sudden burst of light stopped him in his tracks.

  A knight with a crimson gauntlet was kneeling beside sir Viel, a burning mote in his hand. He threw his arm, as if sowing seeds. Suddenly, a wall of fire sprouted behind the knights. It started slowly spreading outwards.

  The flames stopped the monsters’ approach, covering their backline.

  Scared by the flames and infuriated at not being able to reach their foes, some monsters turned to the village - a group of brutes and adults.

  Darryl allowed them to get slightly closer before ordering a volley. No point risking friendly-fire.

  A rain of arrows filled the air, mercilessly punching through flesh and bone.

  The boarmen never made it past the first trench.

  Back on the field, the knights had it all under control already. Half the monsters fell in minutes.

  Even the boarmen started to lose vigor with their rush eradicated like that. Some turned and tried to run, some kept fighting - but it was all for naught.

  Viel kept looking around, wary, but he quickly turned to confusion, as if asking ‘is that all?’. He gave an order, and the knights immediately separated into 4-man lances and moved forward to carve through the remaining monsters.

  The knight order was a powerful group, but even then, some members were a cut above the rest.

  The young troublemaker – Calland, was it? – was especially proactive.

  Along with his group, he was the first to engage. He mowed the monsters with effortless grace, not even the spilt black blood reached his polished armor.

  A wounded brute turned back, to charge the young man but the knight didn’t even flinch.

  Calland jumped forward, and a shockwave exploded around him - knocking the monster flat on its back. His teammates, also forced to avoid the detonation, were separated from him.

  Darryl squinted his eyes.

  The shadows deepened, as if alive.

  His spine tingled. “It’s here,” he muttered.

  A teeth-rattling shriek erupted from the forest, giving pause to the knights.

  From this silence, the predator emerged like a projectile, abusing the darkness to strike from just beyond the edge of vision – its form was a blurring wave of mass and glinting scythes and claws.

  It crashed against Calland’s group.

  The knights turned back-to-back, frantically covering one another as massive claws and scythes pummeled them.

  They tried to move, but the monster kept darting around them. Its assault was relentless.

  Arrows started exploding against the predator’s carapace, forcing it to evade.

  The knights stabilized. Calland struck back at the monster, but missed.

  The predator jumped back into the shadows.

  Sir Viel immediately called for a reposition, bringing everyone back into the initial formation.

  A few seconds of silence went by, then the predator charged from a completely different direction, its movements too fickle to follow.

  The knights remained steady, unyielding, and continued to repel the assault.

  As they reformed their ranks, they adapted. Some held the line while others picked their spears back up to deal with the hit-and-run.

  With every strike, the predator found more and more spears waiting to strike counters. Arrows kept flying its way.

  The predator stopped to screech, limbs twitching. It clearly wasn’t happy.

  After the short pause, It closed the distance and stayed in the light of the torches, finally giving everyone a good look of its form.

  It weaved its longer scythe limbs between the spears, trying to find holes between the shields - to cut at the weak points.

  So that’s the unique bastard. Darryl shivered seeing the lean and rigid, almost insectile body of the monster.

  It mostly balanced itself on four sharp limbs while assaulting with multiple flexible scythe-like appendages. Its main limbs were clawed, human-like.

  It kept pummeling the knights with its claws while simultaneously spinning the scythes around, controlling the space around it and preventing any counter-advances.

  On Viel’s orders, the knights started forming a concave around the monster.

  The predator’s limbs seemed to shift in Darryl’s eyes.

  Each time a scythe met an enchanted sword, it would shatter, only to reform by the time it came back around to strike once more. What?

  It turned itself into a whirling storm, swiping around with long reaching arcs, trusting to its momentum for the striking power.

  Knights were helpless to approach it, unwilling to take the risk of dismemberment. Arrows, while often finding their mark, delivered mostly superficial damage.

  The dance lasted a while, until Calland stepped forward into the tempest of strikes.

  Trusting a female knight to cover him, he lunged.

  A perfectly timed strike, abusing the monster’s momentum, scoring a deep strike against its carapace. Black blood erupted outwards, sprinkling the man.

  The predator staggered back, hissing. It stabilized and leapt away, before more strikes could connect.

  That guy’s strong. Darryl whistled.

  The young knight kept moving forward, leaving the formation ways behind, until a sharp order came from Viel.

  Calland froze in his tracks. Then slowly started to move back, never letting the enemy out of his sight.

  The predator held still since taking the hit, lurking just on the edge of the torchlight. Its scythes moved lazily, almost absentmindedly swatting arrows out of the air—was it baiting them?

  The two sides faced one another, either unwilling to move.

  The multi-eyed head scanned the surroundings before locking onto Darryl. Coming for me, now?

  The monster cocked its head while staring at him. No. Not me.

  The child beside him trembled under the intense gaze and ran away towards the smithy.

  Darryl raised his head again, to look at the monster. The predator’s head swiveled across the palisade, as if following the child’s movement.

  Well, the kid’s one more curiosity to keep tabs on.

  Finally, Viel gave a command. The knights started to advance in formation.

  The predator screeched at them, piercing the night. It moved back into the shadows.

  The sound of sharp cuts ripping the ground kept coming from different directions for a while, but no further attack happened.

  A retreat?

  The knights stopped and stared. Surprise and unease.

  But was the fight truly over?

  end of daily uploads (for now).

  maybe 3 chapters a week, but I also have a full time job that tends to be stressful.

  tuesday and I'll be moving to a Tuesday/Friday schedule for the forseeable future.

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  five chapters ahead - which (as of today) should be almost at the climax of arc 2!