The village of Hallowglen was a flurry of preparation as the third day bled into night. Every able-bodied villager worked tirelessly under Kalenor’s direction, fortifying defenses and bracing for the unknown. The patrols on the walls moved with increased vigilance, their torches lighting the perimeter, while others kept watch over the sealed hole in the Briarhouse, ever wary of the husks’ return.

  The carpenter, steadfast in his efforts, had completed four enchanted shields. Each was given to a member of the wall patrols, their bearers feeling a renewed sense of purpose as the faint energy of the runes pulsed in their grip. The shields were a small but vital symbol of hope a reminder that unity and preparation were their best tools against the encroaching darkness.

  The elders, understanding the rising tensions among the villagers, opened the main hall to serve as a refuge. Families huddled together inside, their faces etched with fear but also gratitude for the sense of safety the hall provided. Outside, the fires burned brighter, their flames crackling defiantly against the oppressive mist.

  Despite the precautions, the night felt heavier than any before it. The foraging parties had returned just before dusk, laden with wood but burdened with the weight of what they had seen trees gnarled and blackened, the air thick with unease. Kalenor had inspected the haul himself, ensuring no signs of corruption tainted the wood. Satisfied, he had sent the teams back into the village, their task complete for now.

  At the break of dawn on the fourth day, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the mist, the village stirred with cautious hope. The night had passed without incident, the patrols reporting no activity from the husks or any other threats. But that fragile calm shattered in an instant.

  A roar, deafening and guttural, bellowed from deep within the forest. It rolled over the village like a storm, shaking the ground and rattling the very air. The sound was unlike anything Kalenor had ever heard primordial and filled with malice. It was the roar of a predator, a harbinger of destruction.

  Kalenor froze where he stood, the sound resonating in his chest. He could feel its power, its intent. His hands trembled slightly, not out of fear, but from the weight of knowing what this meant. Whatever had made that sound was no ordinary beast. It was something far worse.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Villagers emerged from their homes, their faces pale and their voices hushed. Some clung to one another, while others looked to the walls, hoping for reassurance from the patrols. The elders gathered outside the main hall, their expressions grim as they exchanged worried glances.

  Kalenor steeled himself, gripping the hilt of his sword as he turned to face the source of the roar. Though the forest was still cloaked in mist, the sound had come from the north a direction Kalenor did not like. The forest there was dense, untouched, and ancient, a place where even seasoned hunters rarely ventured.

  One of the patrol guards approached him, his face pale. “Scalesworn,” he said, his voice shaky. “What… what could make a sound like that?”

  Kalenor’s sharp amber eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. “Something we aren’t prepared for,” he admitted. “But we will face it, nonetheless.”

  The guard swallowed hard and nodded, retreating to the wall to continue his watch. Kalenor turned to the elders, who had gathered nearby.

  “We need to fortify the walls even further,” Kalenor said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “Double the patrols. Keep the fires burning brighter and hotter than before. Whatever made that sound it’s coming.”

  One of the elders, her voice trembling, asked, “Do you know what it is?”

  Kalenor shook his head. “No. But I can feel its intent. It’s a predator, and it knows we’re here.”

  The elders nodded grimly and began organizing the villagers, ensuring that everyone had a role to play. Kalenor, meanwhile, moved to the northern wall, where the patrols had already begun gathering. He climbed the wooden structure, his cloak billowing in the faint morning breeze, and scanned the forest. The mist obscured much of the view, but the tension in the air was palpable.

  As he stood atop the wall, Kalenor’s thoughts turned to the Lady in Blue. Was she behind this? Was this her doing? He gritted his teeth, his mind racing with questions and doubts. The roar had been far too powerful to be one of the husks or the corrupted creatures he had faced thus far. This was something new, something far more dangerous.

  He reached for the enchanted shield strapped to his back, feeling the faint hum of its energy beneath his fingers. The carpenter’s work had already proven invaluable, and Kalenor knew he would need every advantage in the fight to come.

  Turning to the patrols gathered below, he raised his voice. “Stay sharp! If you see anything, anything at all sound the alarm immediately. We don’t know what’s out there, but we will not be caught off guard.”

  The guards nodded, their expressions resolute despite the fear in their eyes. Kalenor descended the wall and began moving through the village, checking on the preparations and offering words of encouragement to the villagers. The roar had shaken them, but they had not broken. Not yet.

  As the sun rose higher, the village of Hallowglen braced itself for the inevitable. Whatever lurked in the forest was coming, and Kalenor knew it would take everything they had to stand against it.