Cecillia’s eyes shot wide open when the shrill scream entered her ears. Dull booms already resounded from beyond her tent’s confines and Blackie released a low growl. Her expression stiffened as flickering torches entered through the thin gap where people scrambled to get away.

Cecillia knew that to the villagers, an ambush at night was the worst thing that could happen. These people weren’t equipped for combat, and with the already long day, all they would be able to do was run or face their deaths. The image of the cooks entered her mind. The chef… she might be able to fend for herself, but the others… Olivia, Gordon, they might have been highly leveled in their cooking jobs, but their overall combat status couldn’t compare to her. Much less experience.

A dizziness emerged in her stomach, something that felt sickening and queasy. Cecillia couldn’t understand it, but intuitively she knew that it came from fear. Was it because she didn’t want to lose them?

“Come on, Bluey, Blackie,” Cecillia narrowed her eyes. “Let’s go.”

She grabbed her dagger and strapped the pouch of remaining mana cores to her waist while Bluey hopped atop her head. Everything else in the tent was expendable and wasn’t worth the lives of others. Cecillia bolted out of the tent, jumping into the air and landing on the wolf as her eyes swiveled the area.

Shadows twisted with every flicker of the torchlights as people scrambled in any direction away from the monsters. She glanced at the entrance to the canyon, nearly half a kilometre away at least three hundred monsters stampeded with hungry lights in their eyes. Cecillia recognized some of them, trolls, lesser aohrs, bears, wolves, but most of them she couldn’t identify. She tried to use her skill, but its current range was limited.

Her heart pounded in her chest as their numbers only grew larger. Enigmatic explosions of light were sent into the clumps of creatures, but Cecillia doubted that even Doran could handle such a group. It wasn’t long until she found him all the way in the back. A lone man standing before an entire army with but a single bow. Cecillia bit back a curse, no matter how much she wanted there was nothing she could do to help. The best thing left to do was help those that couldn’t.

Her eyes flickered to a person that jumped atop a parked carriage. Cecillia didn’t recognize him but on his back was Layla’s old and frail figure.

“Everyone remain calm! We need to get to the tunnel, now! It’s our only chance to escape!”

The tunnel was an unknown variable, but it was their only option remaining. Cecillia looked at the dark mouth of the cave. It was eerie and unsettling, but as she felt the reverberations thundering through the ground, they were left with no choice.

Cecillia scowled and spurred Blackie into a sprint. They raced through the camp at a breakneck speed where women clutched crying children to their chests, the elderly stumbling over the rocky terrain, and the capable doing whatever they could to drag them forward.

“Somebody help!”

A piercing cry struck her ears, the shrill sound slicing through the chaos and Cecillia’s head snapped towards the sound. There, a woman struggled wildly, held back by a man whose arms wrapped around her from behind. Her arms flailed desperately, fists pounding against the limb as tears streamed down her face.

“My son! He’s still out there! Please!” The woman shrieked.

“Martha, let him go!” The man shouted from behind. “It’s too late, we have to move now!”

Cecillia stared at the two blankly. The mother’s tears glistened in the moonlight while the flickering flames cast long shadows down the man’s face. In that moment, he was the world’s antagonist.

It didn’t seem real, but Cecillia found herself moving. Blackie must’ve felt her intentions as the wolf was flying over stone. While Bluey… streamlined its body to allow her some better aerodynamics. A quick glance told her the monsters were closing in, from half a kilometre away, they had closed the distance by more than two thirds. Their monstrous forms, stomping against the ground to kick up a giant cloud of death. It was enough to instill terror within anyone.

‘This isn’t good…’ Cecillia muttered.

In the distance, hiding behind a carriage set aflame, Cecillia saw a small figure crouching frozen in fear. The boy stared at the chaos with wide, terrified eyes, unmoving as he called desperately for his mother.

“Faster Blackie,” Cecillia breathed.

The wind whipped against her face as the wolf accelerated. She jumped off the creature’s back and landed before the carriage, sprinting forward as the flames stung her eyes. The heat resistance proved worthy of its name and her arms wrapped around the child. Cecillia felt the boy’s nails claw against her, the wailing growing louder by the second.

“Shh… it’s going to be okay,” Cecillia said, patting the boy awkwardly.

Her words seemed to calm the boy slightly and a bitter smile came to her face. Looking at him, Cecillia saw several cuts along his arms and legs while his clothes were singed with holes. He faced her with eyes glistening with tears, burying his head into her fragile looking chest. The boy wasn’t any older than ten.

“Hold on tight for me alright?”

Without waiting for a response, Cecillia threw the boy into the air and Blackie leapt forward. The child landed on the wolf’s back with a yelp, and Cecillia joined the boy a second later. Her eyes scanned the area as the chaos blurred around them, until suddenly, everything became clear.

Cecillia once again leapt off the wolf and landed with a roll. She trusted Bluey and Blackie to deliver the child to his mother, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Her boots skidded against the uneven ground and she vaulted over loose rocks scattered across the canyon. The scene set within her sights, the collapsed kitchen tent. She was hoping that everyone would be okay, but with the limited time, she had to be sure.

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“Gordon, wake up! Please! You promised me!”

The piercing scream met her ears and Cecillia instinctively knew that the decision to come wasn’t wrong. She spotted Olivia pulling at what seemed to be a human arm, but nothing seemed to budge.

“Gordon! Y-you said…” The woman collapsed to her knees. “...You said that we would get a house, build our restaurant. So why won’t you just wake up…”

There, at the edge of the kitchen’s entrance, Gordon lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving. His body was partially pinned beneath a large wooden log, but fortunately, his lungs weren’t crushed.

“Olivia…” Cecillia whispered, rushing to their side.

The woman glanced up at her, trembling with hands coated in blood. Cecillia looked at the man again, his breathing was shallow, so faint that it was barely there. Blood trickled from a gash on his side, soaking into a puddle beneath him.

“Cecillia…?” she muttered with a shaky voice. “Why are you here?”

The woman’s face was lost, confused, and Cecillia shook her head softly, words were meaningless anyways. She strode over to the log, picking the wood up with a heavy grunt before tossing it to the side with a thud. Sixty effective points of strength had their merit in such a situation.

She heard a gasp from the side, and the unconscious Gordon was already hoisted onto her back. A man like him would be around two hundred and twenty pounds, but with the system, he was much lighter. With her frail stature, it was still heavy, but fifty pounds was at least manageable.

Cecillia met the woman’s searching gaze and nodded.

“Let’s go,” she turned.

Cecillia broke into a jog, careful to keep her impacts against the ground light. Olivia was beside her in an instant, but another echoing boom caused the woman to flinch. Cecillia glanced back, but there was no need. She could feel the monsters gradually getting closer, their claws scraping against stone. Roars that had once echoed now sounded directly into her ears as even Doran was forced back. The monsters were closing in, spilling into the canyon as the once distant rumbling were now thunders of death.

“The horses!” A voice cracked with panic.

It was cruel, but someone had released the horses, allowing the animals to run in a panic and hopefully to draw the monster’s ire. The plan was successful, and some of the monsters were diverted, but the vast majority of them still pursued the group. Cecillia tore her gaze from the sight as another scream was heard.

A man just ahead of her fell, his leg twisting grotesquely as a sharp cracking sound tore through the air. Olivia released a choked scream at the sight and lurched in their direction, but Cecillia waved a hand.

“But why?! That’s Scott, we can save him!” Olivia sobbed.

Cecillia’s gaze turned cold. Perhaps she didn’t mean it to come out so bluntly, but the words had already left her lips.

“It’s him or Gordon, you can choose.”

The woman’s mouth was instantly clamped shut, and her eyes slightly widened at the cruelty. Her pupils shook but as she glanced towards her lover, blood streamed down from her clenched hands. Cecillia accepted Olivia’s silent decision.

The two women passed the fallen man as several people tried to lift him, but they soon dropped him in a moment of terror. Cecillia locked eyes with him as the man clawed against the ground, crawling forward in hopelessness. She could see his mouth moving, in a fruitless effort to convey help. But Cecillia couldn’t do anything, she already had Gordon upon her back, and even if he wasn’t… he didn’t mean anything to her.

The first of the monsters breached through the rear. A flash of teeth and claws, and a torch’s light was extinguished. The guttural scream tore through the air as flesh was ripped apart, the lantern smashing against the ground as a sea of fire came into existence. Although, the massive wall of flames did nothing to hinder the monsters. Sure, some of them were singed slightly, with wisps of steam rising from their bodies, but most of them ran through without even so much as a single burn.

Arrows continued to rain down upon them and their numbers were thinned, but to what degree?

[Monster Horde (400+) - (Level 10-75)]

Individual Information Available…

Since they were now close enough, identification worked just fine. But Cecillia was surprised at the numbers and levels of the horde. Would a single Doran be enough?

Cecillia frowned, but there was no use speculating. He was their last hope, and the entire village’s trust would have to be placed within his hands. She glanced to the side at Olivia who was staring at Gordon. He showed no signs of waking, but Cecillia could feel his hardly detectable heartbeat beating against her back. There was a high chance of his survival, especially if he had placed his points into constitution.

Up ahead, the first of the villagers had already reached the mouth of the cave. The wavering flames illuminated the darkness, and Cecillia could see the rock formations hanging from the ceiling. It wouldn’t be long until they too arrived at the location.

A howl echoed from nearby and Cecillia released a breath of relief. The man on her back was already starting to feel heavy, and her legs were becoming sluggish. Blackie came before her, matching her pace as she flipped the man onto the wolf’s back. Olivia gazed at the creature nervously, but Cecillia only gestured.

“Get on,” she said. “I don’t need to rest.”

“A-are you sure?”

Blackie didn’t care for Olivia’s words as the wolf forced her onto its back. The woman released a yelp before nervously seating herself. She shot Cecillia a frightened glance, but the black-haired mage only nodded quickly.

“Now go,” Cecillia commanded.

She watched as the wolf sped towards the mouth of the cave before craning her head towards the Captain of the 63rd Crimson Squadron. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow across the man’s figure. His silhouette was illuminated with a pale red light as each arrow contained oblivion. The tide of beasts flowed towards him, ushered into their deaths as each projectile spiraled through rows of flesh.

For a moment, Cecillia stood frozen, but a shout snapped her back to reality. The thrumming in her chest, the raw thirst for battle, it was all too familiar. Yet at her current level of strength, the only thing she would receive was a forlorn death.

She resumed running and shortly made it to the cavern. The caravan was now inside, exhausted and weary. Some people were crying, leaning against the walls with their families as they mourned the deaths of their fellow villagers. A small town like this, it wasn’t uncommon for those to know each other, which meant that every casualty hit at its hardest.

“Cecillia.”

A voice whispered and the woman turned to the source. Olivia was there crouched over Gordon’s body, facing her way. Her tears fell upon pale flesh, her hair was a mess, but she had the ebbing strength to force a strained smile.

“Thank you.”

Flashes of red light illuminated the cavern entrance and deafening roars of consecutive arrow fire filled what the mournful tears couldn’t. Cecillia turned to the distant battlefield. Hundreds of corpses lay there, their blood spilling like a crimson sea. It was malevolent, magnificent, cruel, and elegant. It was nothing more than her own wretched past. It was… beauty, incarnate.

“Don’t thank me,” she murmured. “Thank him.”