He woke before dawn to the clang of metal. Something hammered the southern barricade.
People scrambled awake, grabbing weapons. Wren bolted upright, adrenaline spiking.
"Monsters?" he muttered, pulling on his coat.
He rushed to the commotion, pushing aside a terrified scavenger who toted a broken crossbow.
At the barricade, Naia was peering over, spear in hand. She looked back at Wren, fear in her eyes.
"Some... huge insect."
Wren climbed onto a vantage point. In the faint light, he saw a squat, broad insect-like creature ramming the metal sheets.
Its body was covered in thick plates, and a set of scythe-like forelimbs sliced at the barrier. Each slam dented the makeshift wall.
It was alone, for now.
Fernandez arrived with his half-webbed shotgun. "This is bad," he hissed. "We can't afford that thing bashing a hole."
Wren considered summoning the hawk, but that might not help much. The hawk wasn't built for heavy combat.
He'd have to rely on direct ash shaping or the group's limited ammo. Fernandez had maybe two shells left.
Argus ran up, shouting orders. People tried to bracing the barricade from the inside, pressing old beams against it.
The creature slammed again, a deafening clang echoing. The barrier rattled, a large crack forming.
Wren leapt down, deciding to go outside and confront it. Risky, but letting it tear down the wall threatened everyone.
He signaled Naia and a few others to cover him. They opened a side gap, enough for him to slip through.
He stepped into the gloom, machete in one hand, forming an ash spike in the other.
The creature noticed him. It turned with a hiss, forelimbs raised.
Wren advanced cautiously, trying to keep his distance from those scythe arms. The monster lunged, swinging a forelimb.
Wren rolled aside, hearing the metal slice through air. He lashed out with the ash spike, catching a joint near the limb.
The chitin cracked, but not deeply.
The beast roared, slamming a leg down. Wren scrambled back.
He shaped a quick ash wall in front of him. The scythe limbs hacked at it, sending dust flying.
He glimpsed an opening and thrust his machete at the beast's underside. It glanced off thick plating, barely scratching.
On the barricade, Naia hurled a makeshift spear. It clanged harmlessly off the monster's side.
Fernandez aimed the shotgun from above, but the angle was poor. He fired anyway.
The slug tore a small hole in the creature's shell, green fluid seeping out. The monster screeched, whirling toward Fernandez's vantage.
That gave Wren a second to strike again.
He shaped a more refined ash blade, focusing on compressing it to a near-metal density. The System chimed in his mind:
[System Notification: Ash Blade (Advanced) Created] Ash Manipulation (Basic) - LV 2 (22 => 25/50 EXP)
He slashed at the beast's wounded side, driving the advanced blade in deeper. It roared, slashing a forelimb across Wren's chest.
Pain exploded. He nearly dropped the blade. Blood stained his coat.
Summoning the last of his strength, he twisted the blade, ripping through chitin. The beast collapsed with a wet thud, spasming.
[System Notification: Insect Ravager Defeated]
EXP +12
Ash Manipulation (Basic) - LV 2 (37/50 EXP)
Wren reeled backward, nearly losing consciousness from the agony. Naia and two others sprinted out, dragging him away from the monster's thrashing legs.
He gasped for air, vision blurry. The chest wound felt deep.
They pulled him inside Emerson, sealing the gap. Another caretaker knelt beside him, pressing a rag to the gash.
"Hold on," Naia murmured, voice tight. He clenched his teeth against the burning pain.
Another notification flickered:
[System Warning: Critical Injury Detected] Health: 12/50
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Recommend Immediate Medical Attention
They had no real medics, just a few folks who'd picked up basics from old pamphlets.
The caretaker poured some antiseptic—probably half expired—onto the wound. Wren bit back a scream.
She wrapped him in strips of cloth. Blood oozed through, but the pressure slowed it.
He forced his breathing to steady. The monster was dead. The wall held.
But each day some new horror tried to break them. This world was relentless.
He felt Argus's presence looming. The old man's voice was grim.
"We can't keep doing this. You're barely standing, Wren. We have to move or upgrade our defenses fast."
Wren nodded weakly. He'd known that was the reality.
If they stayed, more creatures would come. If they moved, they faced the unknown.
But at least at the fortress, they might have a chance to build something stronger, especially if Bronte's group pitched in.
"Alright," Argus said quietly to the onlookers. "We start prepping. Get everything we can. Food, salvage, gather it in the next few days."
"When Bronte's crew arrives, we head to the fortress. If we fail… then it ends anyway."
Murmurs swept through the gathered survivors. Some looked terrified, others resigned.
Wren closed his eyes, letting the caretaker finish bandaging him. The torn flesh burned, but at least he was alive.
Time Passed: Several Days
Wren spent two of those days mostly resting, letting his wound scab over. He tested small bits of ash shaping to maintain skill.
The system fed him incremental progress:
[System Notification: Minor Ash Practices] Ash Manipulation (Basic) - LV 2 (37 => 45/50 EXP)
He was close to leveling the skill again. Maybe that next step would unlock sturdier constructs or a better summon.
He needed all the help he could get.
Meanwhile, the settlement bustled with subdued energy. People gathered scrap metal, old tarps, and meager food.
A few tried patching the wall with the rods Wren's team had brought back.
Derek, the man from the fortress, gave them some advice on how to weld or bolt plates in place, though the result was still rough.
Naia found a single donkey rummaging near an abandoned barn outside the walls. She coaxed it inside, hoping to use it for carrying supplies.
The poor creature was scrawny, but it beat lugging everything by hand.
On the second night, watchers spotted torches approaching. Bronte's group had returned—about ten men and women carrying packs and weapons.
The gate opened to let them in. Tension rippled through Emerson, but Argus greeted them stiffly.
They'd made the trek, so presumably they wanted to push forward with the plan.
Bronte's folks set up in a corner of the yard, each keeping weapons close.
Argus laid out the plan: "In two days, we march east to the fortress. We bring as much as we can handle. We clear out any creatures."
"Then we try to hold it. If water's truly nonexistent, we'll figure out a workaround or die trying."
No one argued. It was a gamble, but everything was.
Wren used that final day to prep. His chest wound was healing, though it pained him.
He tested the Ash Hawk summon again, refining the summoning process until the hawk formed more smoothly:
[System Notification: Summon Ash Hawk Enhanced]
Scout Range Extended
Ash Manipulation (Basic) - LV 2 (45 => 48/50 EXP)
He also coaxed some lumps of ash into larger shapes, half-hoping to create a lion-like form for heavier combat.
But the attempts fizzled. He lacked the skill.
For now, he had the hawk and simpler constructs.
Naia sharpened her spear, fitting a new tip hammered from scrap steel.
Fernandez managed to clean some webbing from the shotgun's barrel.
Puck rigged a cart that the donkey could pull.
Others packed meager supplies—dried beans, stale crackers, a couple jugs of water.
Argus double-checked everything, face lined with tension.
The next dawn, the entire settlement gathered. Some would stay behind, too weak or unwilling to risk the fortress journey.
But most, about twenty adults plus a few teens, decided to try. Bronte's group had roughly ten.
Total of thirty souls. They lined up with backpacks, improvised weapons, the donkey cart loaded with random salvage.
Wren stood near the front, crossbow at the ready, coat patched with fresh bandages underneath.
Argus gave a nod to the watchers who'd remain to guard Emerson in case they had to retreat.
That was the fallback plan if the fortress turned out to be impossible.
Then, with little ceremony, the group headed east.
They moved in a loose formation, watchers on each flank. The donkey trotted in the middle, pulling the cart that rattled over debris.
Dust rose at each step, swirling around them. The city's quiet corners lurked with danger, but they had a bigger group now.
That might deter smaller monsters. Or it might draw bigger predators.
Time Passed: 4 Hours
The trek was grueling. The donkey needed frequent stops. People took turns hauling the cart through broken pavement.
They skirted areas known for crawlers or spider nests.
At midday, they reached a wide intersection near a collapsed overpass. A screech echoed overhead, but it turned out to be a flock of small bird-things that flew away once they saw the group's size.
By evening, the fortress's silhouette appeared in the distance, just as Wren remembered.
High walls, battered towers, no sign of occupant activity. The presence of so many people caused uneasy murmurs.
Everyone knew it might be crawling with mutated beasts.
They decided to make camp behind some rubble about half a mile from the fortress, approaching in daylight.
They took shifts on watch. Wren found a spot to lie down, his breath ragged from the day's strain.
That night, he tried summoning the hawk for watch duties. The mental link let him sense any movement around the perimeter.
It drained a bit of ash, but it felt worth it. The system recognized his repeated attempts:
[System Notification: Summon Ash Hawk (Practice)]
Ash Manipulation (Basic) - LV 2 (48 => 50/50 EXP)
Level Up!
Ash Manipulation (Basic) => (Intermediate)
New Summon Potential Unlocked
A surge of clarity rushed through him. He clenched his fist, feeling new possibilities open.
Maybe that heavier beast form was now in reach. But he needed rest.
The fortress assault waited at dawn.
He dozed in short bursts, half-lucid. The hawk soared overhead, relaying the faint sense of open terrain.
No major threats approached, or so it seemed. He managed a few hours of uneasy sleep.
Morning light found them anxious. People ate small rations, then advanced on the fortress.
Naia, Wren, and Bronte led the way, approaching the main gate. It was still jammed shut from their last visit.
The walls loomed tall, but with holes in places. They heard no immediate roars or screeches, but that didn't guarantee safety.
They split into two teams: one would pry open the gate while another circled around for a vantage.
Wren, Naia, and a few others hoisted crowbars, working on the rusted hinges. After some loud metallic groans, the gate shifted.
A scraping sound came from inside. Everyone froze.
The gate moved a few inches, revealing a dim courtyard. Then a snarling shape lunged at the gap—a four-legged beast with thick scales, drooling acid.
People shouted. Wren jumped back, forming an ash blade in an instant.
But now, with his skill advanced to Intermediate, the blade felt sturdier, more refined.
He braced for the fight.