I never imagined myself like this—broken, powerless. The pain I carry now echoes through streets where I once laughed as a kid. It all began that night, the night I could no longer stay silent. My father, once a man of decency, had turned cruel. It was my sister's sobs and my mother's cries that shattered the calm I once knew.

I stumbled down those cold streets, every gust of wind a reminder of the beating I'd taken. Nobles, out for revenge on my father, left me bruised and humiliated. What could I do but bear it?

Arriving home, dread flooded me. No safety, no solace. Instead, my father's rage filled the house, my mother pleading with her trembling voice. My legs felt like lead as I stepped through the door, heart pounding in my chest. I barely caught my breath.

"Stop! Stop hurting her!" My voice broke as I yelled.

My father spun, his eyes filled with fury. Without hesitation, he lunged at me. Each punch felt like fire, but I couldn't fight back. Too weak, too late.

My sister's sobs filled the air. My mother's cries mixed with the sound of fists. The sight of Aria, curled in the corner, terrified and small, awakened something dark within me.

I dashed to the kitchen, grabbing the closest thing—a knife. Cold steel in my hand, I faced my father, who stormed towards me with madness in his eyes. My hand shook, but I held the blade firm.

"You think you can stand against me, boy?!" he sneered.

"I won't let you hurt them anymore!"

Our battle was quick but brutal. My father hit the floor with a groan, writhing in pain. Silence, except for my sister's soft cries. My mother stood motionless, horrified.

"Run," she whispered, barely audible. "They'll come for you. Take Aria and go—Crimson Village, hurry!"

My chest tightened as the reality set in. Grabbing Aria's hand, we fled into the night, fear driving us forward. The cold tore at my skin, but we didn't stop, not even as the city lights disappeared behind us.

"This feels insane," Aria huffed as we ran. "Escaping, running through the forest in the middle of the night!"

I smiled despite it all. "Well, unless you had a genius plan?"

She smirked. "And here I thought *you* were the smart one."

We laughed, a fleeting moment of light. But soon, the fatigue of our journey caught up, and we rested, leaning on each other for warmth.

"I owe you big," I murmured. "Once this is over, I'll get you the biggest feast ever."

"I'd settle for not being chased by monsters for once," Aria muttered, exhausted but still teasing.

Before dawn, we reached Crimson Village—or what was left of it. The place was in ruins, smoke rising from demolished homes. I approached a dwarf struggling to repair his shop.

"The Diablomons destroyed everything," he said grimly. "We lost our leader, our hope."

Fear gripped me, but I knew I had to stand tall. The villagers gathered, eyes full of desperation.

"We can't let fear paralyze us," I declared, my voice firm. "We've survived this long. Now, we must fight back together."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Hope flickered in their eyes, fragile but real.

"But how?" a dwarf asked, shaking. "We're broken, Eric. We can't fight them again."

"We must," I replied. "This isn't just about fighting—we're protecting each other, rebuilding what was lost. For the fallen. For ourselves."

A woman's tearful voice rang out, "What if we fail?"

"We might," I admitted. "But if we do nothing, we've already lost. The spirits of the forest still watch over us. They know we're capable of victory, or they wouldn't remain."

Slowly, confidence spread. People began to nod, resolve growing.

"I'm with Eric," the village elder stepped forward. "We must give it everything we've got."

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The crowd shifted, a newfound determination setting in.

"We begin training tomorrow," I announced. "We fight, not just for survival, but for everything that was taken from us. Together, we'll rise."

As the villagers dispersed, hope bloomed in my chest. It was the beginning of something greater.

The glow from the monument pulsed softly as I gathered the villagers in the center of what remained of Crimson Village. The old structure seemed to resonate with our urgency. I approached it and touched its surface, summoning that familiar, ghostly screen.

"Welcome, Chosen One," it flickered, calm and bright. "You have TWENTY DAYS to prepare for the oncoming assault. Complete the tasks below to survive."

Tabs appeared, revealing our goals.

[Mission: Rebuild and Defend]

- Rebuild Village: Repair and fortify structures. Complete by Day 10.

- Train Villagers: Enhance combat skills and teamwork. Complete by Day 15.

- Scout the Forest: Identify potential threats. Complete by Day 5.

- Resource Management: Gather materials and organize supplies. Complete by Day 8.

"Look at this, everyone!" I called out. "We have a plan! These tasks are our GUIDELINES!"

Aria's eyes widened. "So, it's like we're playing a game?"

"Exactly! But we're leveling up for SURVIVAL, not points. Let's take advantage of this."

A new tab labeled [Training Exercises] appeared, detailing the drills.

[Training Exercises]

- Combat Drills: Focus on hand-to-hand combat and weapon skills. Train for TWO HOURS daily.

- Team Tactics: Practice group maneuvers and formations. Train TWICE a day.

- Anxiety Management: Techniques for handling stress. Daily meditation.

"Combat drills are CRUCIAL," I stressed. "We need everyone sharp. And managing anxiety? That's essential too."

An elder raised a hand. "How do we gather resources?"

The screen updated with [Resource Management].

[Resource Management]

- Wood Collection: Gather firewood and materials in TEAMS.

- Stone Quarrying: Collect stones for fortifications. Use tools.

- Food Supply: Secure and ration food. Monitor inventory.

"The system shows us exactly what's needed," I said. "Teams will get this done faster."

The locals exchanged determined glances, their dread replaced with ACTION.

"Let's go!" I urged. "We have a lot to do. We're fighting for our FUTURE!"

Hope surged in me as they scattered, energized by our clear plan. The system was more than a tool; it was our lifeline.

As the villagers worked, the screen flashed with a new notification: [Advanced Knowledge Rewards].

"Gather around!" I shouted. "This is where it gets EXCITING."

[Task Completed: Resource Collection]

[Reward Options]

- Knowledge: Create advanced inventions (guns, radios).

- Strength: Increase combat capabilities.

Aria's eyes sparkled. "If we choose knowledge, we can build things from SCRATCH?"

"Exactly!" I nodded. "Imagine creating fans for cool air or radios to communicate."

"Could we actually make a computer?" a villager asked, astonished.

"Definitely! We'll bridge the gap between old and new technologies," I replied. "It's about enhancing our survival."

The screen displayed possible builds:

[Knowledge Unlocks]

- Guns: For defense.

- Rifles: Long-range combat.

- Computers: For planning.

- Radios and Telephones: For communication.

- Fans and Appliances: For comfort.

The villagers exchanged hopeful looks. Their confidence grew at the thought of these advancements.

"We must choose wisely," I said. "Knowledge can be vital for our survival and defense. Strength matters, but the right TOOLS give us an edge."

Our excitement soared as we worked. The decisions we made with these rewards would shape our FATE.

As we prepared, I reflected on Anium. It was unlike any magic; it flowed through the world, unseen but present, like air. I felt it inside me, a force I was learning to control. But it was a tool—one requiring skill and patience. The more I used it, the more it pushed back.

In desperate times, I wished to unleash it fully, but Anium wasn't the answer. I needed my people—our STRENGTH and unity. Anium was just PART of the equation, and mastering it was still my challenge.

Rebuilding was grueling. The elves trained hard, growing stronger, while the dwarfs built walls and weapons. Slowly, hope returned, lifting spirits. Aria stayed by my side, urging me forward.

Training was tough. "You know, Eric," Aria joked during a session, "if you keep pushing us, we might need a support group for 'overworked villagers'!"

I laughed. "This is necessary. We must be READY for the Diablomons."

The Diablomon aren't just any demons—they're worse. Their dark skin swallows light, and their red eyes burn with HATRED. They don't just attack; they relish the pain. They're cunning, waiting for the perfect moment to STRIKE.

The countdown screen reminded us of our limited time. Each hopeful day turned into endless preparations for the battle ahead.

Finally, the day arrived. The Diablomon army surged from all sides, five million strong. Their cold-hearted cruelty was palpable.

"Great. A million new friends, just what we needed," I muttered.

Aria squeezed my shoulder, her expression a mix of determination and fear. "Remember, we're in this TOGETHER. Let's show them what Crimson Village is made of!"

We stood at the front with the villagers, our defenses feeling weak against the overwhelming force. Tension filled the air. Despite our efforts, victory felt almost IMPOSSIBLE.

As the enemy closed in, everything we'd fought for the strength we gained, the sacrifices we made was about to be put to the test. The battle for Crimson Village was here, and the flames of destruction loomed closer.