A searing heat pulsed in Ramset's leg. Every step sent a jolt of pain through her, yet the grimace on her face reflected more determination than agony. She couldn't afford to falter. The fate of these innocent townsfolk depended on the warning she carried.
Sweat mingled with soot and streaks of grime on her once clean armor. The memory of the battle flickered in her mind—the relentless goblin horde, Ivan's stubborn personality, and the sound of Ivan's strange weapon that breathed fire and death.
Kyle, his youthful face etched with worry, kept pace beside her, along with the elf Tanya, crying after what had happened on their first quest. Finally, they emerged from the oppressive shadows of the forest, stepping into the golden embrace of the golden fields. The town appeared untouched by the goblins that crowded the abandoned fort. Yet a strange stillness hung in the air.
The road outside the town bustled with various activities as people moved about, preparing for the impending threat. Men and women, clad in shining armor and appearing to be members of a guild of adventurers from the capital, milled about with grim expressions. Some were already mounted on sturdy horses, swords strapped to their backs.
Ramset straightened her back, summoning the last vestiges of her mana, and healed herself. Despite her physical weariness, she refused to let her exhaustion overshadow her commanding presence as both a noblewoman and a formidable mage.
With a regal stride, she confidently approached the nearest figure, a muscular warrior wielding a massive axe. The man instantly recognized her noble birth as his gaze flickered to the insignia on her breastplate.
"Greetings," Ramset said, her voice surprisingly firm. "I am Lady Ramset of House Crimson. We have come from the abandoned fort…"
Before the warrior could address the noblewoman, a commotion erupted from the other side of the clearing. Dozens of figures, clad in the unmistakable jet black plate armor outlined with silver and gold, were the Iorn Guard, elite knights purely loyal to the King. The Iorn Guard, known as the king's elite warriors, were revered for their unwavering loyalty and unmatched strength, reserved only for the most critical and perilous circumstances.
At their head stood a woman in gleaming silver armor bearing with a roaring red dragon—the unmistakable Guild Master of the Adventurer's Guild. Kyle and Tanya gaped at the spectacle, their earlier fear morphing into a mixture of awe and hope. But for Ramset, a different emotion flickered in her eyes. This wasn't just a handful of adventurers; this was a mobilized force.
"What's the meaning of this?" she commanded, her voice ringing with authority despite the tremor of exhaustion running through her. The guild master turned, her steely gaze meeting Ramset's head-on.
"Lady Ramset, I presume? I'm surprised you survived the first wave," the guild master inquired, a hint of surprise flickering in her eyes. "We received a report from the borders," she continued, her voice devoid of emotion. "A massive goblin migration. Hundreds strong, maybe more, heading straight for this town."
"Hundreds?" she repeated, the word echoing in the sudden stillness that had fallen over the clearing. The Guild Master's grim confirmation hung heavy in the air. Despair threatened to engulf her, but she forced it down. A mix of shame and lingering anger towards Ivan brewed within her. Leaving an adventurer behind, even one who keeps teasing and making fun of her, was taboo in the guild. Stepping forward, she explained, her voice tight with emotion, "Ivan… he left himself behind. He made a distraction so we could escape."
She gestured towards the distant plume of smoke rising from the direction of the fort. "That's his weapon. Some kind of arcane tool that spat fire."
The Guild Master's eyebrows raised in astonishment, a flicker of surprise overtaking her usual steely composure. "A tool you say? And this… smoke?"
"Yes," Ramset said, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes despite the bleakness of the situation. The image of Ivan wielding that strange weapon, burning dozens of giblins of goblins, flashed in her mind. Maybe, just maybe, he had survived. "The smoke. It's his… weapon, and the fort… well, it's likely under his control now."
The guild master stared at Ramset in disbelief. then it finally dawned on her. The reason why the scouting reports far ahead indicated that the first wave was a smaller goblin force than they anticipated was because one of Ramset's party members had already taken care of a significant portion of them with his mysterious weapon. And that cloud of smoke, which the scouting party misinterpreted as a forest fire started by the goblins themselves—was actually the last-ditch effort made by one lone adventurer.
Then, Guild Master's gaze swept over the assembled crowd. The Iron Guard stood unwavering, their faces hidden behind the dark shroud of their jet black armor. The rest of the adventurers, with their faces taut with tension, mirrored the solemnity of the Guild Master, displaying a shared gravity in their expressions.
She gestured towards a group of seasoned adventurers, their armor polished and bearing the insignia of various prestigious guilds. "You," she pointed at the adventurers, "along with half the Iron Guard, will accompany me. We will secure the abandoned fort and reinforce whoever holds it." Her gaze fell on Ramset, a flicker of respect replacing the initial skepticism.
"Lady Ramset," she said, her tone firm. " You will remain here within the town walls and focus on replenishing your mana. When the fighting reaches the town, you will be a vital asset."
Disappointment flickered across Ramset's face, but she understood the logic. a half-healed mage has no use on the battlefield. "I—I understand," she said, forcing her voice to be steady.
-
Fire shot out from Ivan's weapon as he burned the remaining goblins cowardly fleeing towards the entrance of the abandoned fort, quickly followed by the screams of the creatures as they met their fiery demise. The last living goblin that remained hidden within the fort's walls was brave enough to creep up behind him and was easily knocked down with a forceful kick from his boot, followed by a slow, and agonizing death as Ivan burned the creature.
The acrid smell of burnt goblin flesh hung heavy in the air. Sweat stung his eyes as it ran down his face, blurring the already hazy scene before him. It had been nearly an hour since he ordered Ramset and the others to head to warn the town, leaving him alone with the terrifying task of holding back the goblin tide.
His plastic riot gear was now damaged, revealing the black ballistic weave beneath, stained by soot and slightly scorched by the fire. He limped over in agony, reaching into the ground as his body was unable to contain the turmoil within. His stomach lurched and convulsed as he vomited into the ground, adding to the bile that had already stained his boots. He shakily wiped his mouth with his gloved hand, taking a deep, shaky breath as he surveyed the battlefield. The ground was lit with goblin corpses, a horrifying mosaic of green skin and red blood that lay scattered around him like grotesque fallen mangoes after a violent storm. His limbs felt like they were carrying weight, dragging him down as the world spun around him, a swirling sensation of exhaustion and disorientation.
Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the din. "There he is!"
Ivan whipped around, squinting through the haze. A towering figure in gleaming silver armor, flanked by a disciplined squadron of men clad in jet-black armor, approached him.
As he tried to stand, the woman in silver dismounted swiftly and strode towards him. "You," she stated, her voice cold steel cutting through the adrenaline haze clouding his brain. "You held this position… alone?"
Ivan, despite his exhaustion, couldn't help but puff out his chest a little. "Someone had to," he replied weakly, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
The woman's gaze swept over the battlefield, taking in the charred goblin bodies and the smoldering wreckage of his weapon.
"You've certainly thinned their ranks, impressive for a single F-rank adventurer" she acknowledged, "but make no mistake, there are more. We need to secure this fort. Introduce yourself, adventurer."
"Ivan," he rasped.
She examined him with her narrowed eyes. "And your weapon?"
"That's a secret," he wheezed. Keeping his abilities a secret was necessary in this dangerous situation. Ivan knew revealing too much could make him a person of interest to the wrong people.
"Very well," she said with a smirk. "You can save your secrets for now." Following her statement, she instructed one of the adventurers accompanying them to tend to Ivan's injuries, while the rest positioned themselves inside the abandoned and dilapidated fort.
She paused, her eyes settling on a figure at the back of the group. "Elara, come forward."
Ivan's head snapped up when she mentioned Elara's name. For a split second, Ivan forgot everything else and chuckled nervously as he turned to face the elf. "Hehehe, Elara? Fancy meeting you here."
Elara, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, stepped towards him with an upset glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she marched up to him, removed his helmet, and pinched his ear hard, much to his astonishment.
"You insufferable blockhead!" she hissed, her voice filled with concern and frustration. "Didn't I warn you about this quest? About the goblins? About the dangers that awaited..." she faltered for a moment, then sighed. "Never mind. Just sit."
Ivan rubbed his ear with a small tear in his eye, both bewildered and strangely touched. "We thought their numbers were small, and then they swarmed us like, I don't know, flies?" He paused, trying to steer away from the conversation as he felt her anger and worry hanging heavy in the air.
"Speaking of warnings," Ivan said, clearly having difficulties making up another lie. "Aren't you supposed to be back at the capital, minding your own business? And I thought elves only specialized in ranged combat, not… you know…" he trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the battlefield."
Elara narrowed her eyes, instantly catching on to his attempt at deflection. "Trying to change the subject, are we?" she reached out and pinched his same ear again, eliciting a yelp of protest from Ivan. "Don't think for a second you're getting out of this one so easily, young man."
"Ow! Elara, come on!" he whined, rubbing his ear again.
Elara chuckled, her tension easing slightly as she saw Ivan's reaction. "Fine, I'll let it go for now. But don't think I won't bring it up again later." She gave him a playful smile before casting a healing spell.
A warm wave of energy washed over Ivan as Elara finished her spell. He sighed in relief, feeling the aches and pains in his muscles begin to recede. "Thanks, Elara," he mumbled, gingerly flexing his arm. "You're a lifesaver… literally."
"Well, archery is certainly a natural talent for us," she admitted. "Our keen eyesight and nimble fingers give us an advantage, but our long lifespans also have their perks."
"Perks?"
Elara crossed her arms, a thoughtful expression radiating from her face. "We elves live for centuries; dying of old age is rare for us. We have the luxury of time to master other skills beyond just archery."
While relief seemed fleeting in the tense atmosphere, it was abruptly interrupted by a young adventurer probably from the scouting party, who burst through the main gate of the abandoned fort where the guld mater, Ivan, Elara, and the other adventurers, along with the Iorn guard, had gathered. The adventurer had a tired expression on his face.
"My Lady!" he panted, bowing hurriedly to the Guild Master. "They're coming! The second wave!"
A collective gasp rippled through the gathered forces. but the guild master quickly turned and barked orders towards the Iron Guard.
"Form ranks!" she boomed, her voice echoing through the ruined fort. The Iron Guard responded instantly with their movements, which were practiced and efficient, taking positions at the base of the crumbling stone walls and forming a barrier at the fort's open entrance where the remains of the wooden doors no longer existed.
"Archers and the rest of you adventurers! to the battlements! Kill any goblin that is brave enough to climb up to these walls," the guild master bellowed. The seasoned adventurers scrambled up narrow staircases leading to the fort's dusty walkways. These walkways, once meant to provide defenders with high ground and flanking opportunities, now resemble unstable ledges overlooking the approaching goblin horde.
"looks like it's my time to go," said Elara as she readied her bow.
Ivan nodded in agreement. He then checked his weapon for any signs of damage, and then a surge of panic washed over Ivan. his fingers instinctively reached for the pressure gauge on his flamethrower strapped to his back. With a sinking feeling, he confirmed his suspicion. His tank was now empty. Completely drained.
Panic gnawed at him, but not from the lack of fuel. He couldn't let anyone, especially not the Guild Master or these elite soldiers, discover his secret. A weapon like his flamethrower, a weapon from another world, could be devastating in the wrong hands. Refueling mid-battle was also out of the question—far too risky and hazardous.
Thinking fast, Ivan scanned the ruined fort's interior. His gaze landed on a pile of rubble in a shadowy corner, partially hidden within the collapsing remains of a former storage room. It was a perfect spot to stash his weapon, at least temporarily.
Taking a deep breath, he activated his ability. Holding his hand out, his palm facing the stone floor, he closed his eyes and focused. He phased his hand into the floor, feeling the metal of the weapon beneath his fingertips.
He quickly pulled it after it materialized, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. With a grunt, he hoisted the new weapon onto his back, carefully replacing the empty one. The old flamethrower, now a potential liability that needed to be hidden.
He darted towards the pile of rubble. Crouching low, he shoved the empty weapon deep within the debris, taking care to conceal it completely.
Just as he straightened his back, a distant sound made him freeze. Footsteps. Someone is approaching.
His heart hammered against his ribs. Standing before him, with her face grim, was the guild master. A young Iron Guard soldier stood beside her with his helmet not pesent. "Is your weapon ready?" the guild master inquired, her gaze sharp.
Ivan swallowed, forcing a smile. "Yes, it is," he stammered, hoping she hadn't noticed his earlier actions.
The guild master nodded curtly, gesturing for him to follow. Relief flooded him for a moment. She led him through a narrow passage, emerging onto the battlements high above the fort's main gate.
The sight that greeted Ivan stole his breath away. The Iron Guard stood firm, forming an impenetrable wall against the surging tide of goblins. But what truly shocked him wasn't their unwavering defense. It was their speed.
Clad in their jet-black armor, the Iron Guard moved with agility that defied their bulky appearance. They weaved through the goblin horde, their swords flashing like streaks of silver. Goblins that dared to rush in were cut down in seconds and shoved aside with terrifying efficiency.
"Woah," Ivan whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of battle. He couldn't help but stare at the spectacle before him. These weren't just elite soldiers; they're more like maxed out characters in a video game! Their movements were almost choreographed, as if they had rehearsed this battle a thousand times before.
"There," the guld master ordered at a large group of another goblin brute slowly advancing through the hord of goblins. "Let me see what you can do."
With a silent nod towards the Guild Master, he slipped away from the battlements' edge, standing openly above the fort's gate, waiting for the brute to come within effective range. Taking a deep breath, he activated the weapon and aimed the nozzle towards the approaching brutes.
With a deafening roar, the flamethrower unleashed a torrent of fire that flew past above the Iorn guard protecting the open gates. A wave of superheated gas surged forth, engulfing the largest brute in a wall of flames. The goblin screeched, a horrifying sound that quickly turned into a death gurgle as the flames consumed it.
The remaining brutes stumbled back, their eyes wide with terror. The smaller goblins, witnessing the fiery demise of their biggest brute, were now frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. their once fervent charge was now replaced by a wave of panic and confusion.
Ivan seized the opportunity. He unleashed another burst, a targeted stream of flames that incinerated one of the remaining brutes before it could react. The other two brutes were now truly terrified and turned tails; they fled back into the horde, with their roars of battle now replaced by frantic cries for help. Ivan stood tall, his hands crackling with flames, ready to take on whatever came next.
Silence descended for a moment, broken only by the crackle of dying embers and the whimpers of burning goblins. Then, the roar of the battle resumed, but with a noticeable shift. The goblins seemed less eager, their movements more hesitant.
Ivan, with his heart hammering in his chest, lowered his weapon. He glanced towards the guild master, expecting a reprimand or even an order to surrender his weapon. But to his surprise, he found her lips curled into a smirk, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes.
"Impressive, young adventurer," she said, her voice devoid of its usual sternness. "I underestimated you. It seems you have a few more tricks up your sleeve than meets the eye."
Ivan swallowed, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Just… trying to help out," he stammered, unsure how much to reveal.
The guild master chuckled, a rare sound on the battlefield. "Help? You saved us from a potential breach. We might have contained them eventually, but thanks to you, it got a lot easier."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the battlefield once more. "Those brutes, though... that weapon of yours… it seems particularly effective against their kind," she questioned.
Ivan tensed slightly. "It's... something I picked up on my travels," he replied vaguely.
The tide was turning, quite literally. The goblins, while their initial fervor was replaced by the chilling memory of burning comrades, began to falter. Their once relentless charge devolved into a panicked scramble. Disorganized squeals replaced their battle cries. The stench of singed fur and burned flesh hung heavy in the air as Ivan's weapon continued to wreak havoc among their ranks. The odds were finally beginning to shift in favor of the defenders as hope flickered back to life in their eyes.
As the battle turned in favor of the defenders, a group of adventurers observed Ivan's actions from a distance, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion. They remembered him as the new guy from the guild, who had just obtained his adventurer's license a day ago and had teased a young noble named Ramset.
"No way, that's the new guy from the guild," one of the adventurers muttered, his voice filled with disbelief, as he watched Ivan unleash torrents of flames upon the goblin brutes.
"Isn't he the one who teased a noble just a day ago?" another adventurer questioned, amazed by Ivan's sudden display of prowess in battle.
"Yeah, that's him! Looks like he's proving his worth now," another adventurer responded with a bewildered grin, watching as Ivan's flamethrower caused panic among the goblins.
The Iron Guard, sensing the shift in momentum, pressed their attack with renewed vigor. Their movements, a deadly ballet of steel and shadow, drove a wedge through the goblin horde. The remaining smaller goblins, their bellies full of fear and their courage thoroughly extinguished, turned tail and fled back into the dark recesses of the forest.
The Guild Master, her armor gleaming with a mixture of sweat and goblin blood, surveyed the battlefield with a keen eye. Though a sense of victory settled in the air, caution lingered in her gaze. "There's no rest for the wicked," she barked, her voice ringing loud and clear through the thinning ranks of the enemy.
"Half of you," she continued, pointing towards a contingent of Iron Guard soldiers, "take positions on the flanks. We don't want any surprises. The rest of you," she gestured towards the remaining soldiers and adventurers, "we pursue them. A rout can quickly turn into a regrouping if we give them the chance."
With a series of sharp commands, the remaining forces fell into formation. Ivan, however, stood alone, unsure of his place in the unfolding strategy. The Guild Master then strode towards Ivan, her armor clinking faintly with every step. The battlefield, though littered with the charred remains of goblin brutes and the pungent smell of burned flesh, held no bodies of fallen defenders. A satisfied glint flickered in the Guild Master's eyes as she surveyed the scene.
Reaching Ivan, she stopped, her gaze fixed on the weapon strapped to his back. "The tide has turned," she declared, her voice firm yet lighter than before. "The Iron Guard and the adventurers have this well in hand."
Ivan, relief washing over him, released a shaky breath. "Finally!," he sighed. "I think I could use a bit of a rest myself."
A hint of amusement flickered across the guild master's face. "Rest? You, young adventurer, have single-handedly turned the tide of this battle. I thought for sure you'd be itching to join the pursuit."
Ivan chuckled, a dry but genuine sound. "Yeah-no, my weapon is too heavy for me to be chasing after anyone right now. I'll leave that to the others. I thought after I'm done fighting you'd be hauling me off in chains, accusing me of witchcraft or something," he said with a playful yet tired tune in his voice.
The Guild Master's amusement blossomed into a full-blown laugh, a sound rarely heard on the battlefield. The sound was unexpected and surprisingly warm, startling the other adventurers nearby.
"Dark magic?" she chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Intriguing notion, young adventurer. But as far as I can sense, there's no mana coursing through that weapon of yours, nor do I see any arcane runes etched upon it."
Ivan blinked in surprise as she mentioned the lack of dark magic in his weapon. "You can sense magic?" he had seen RPG games that incorporated magic-sensing abilities, but he guesses this applies to this world as well.
The Guild Master shook her head, her smile fading slightly. "Yes. But that's a conversation for another time. For now," she said, her voice regaining its seriousness, "you've earned your rest. Get back to the town and see your party. We'll handle the goblins from here."
A wave of gratitude washed over Ivan. Not only had he avoided suspicion, but he was also free to return to Ramset. A flicker of concern crossed his mind. "What about Ramset? Is she alright?"
The guild master nodded curtly. "She's safe within the town. We have adventurers stationed there to protect the town. You can trust that she is in good hands."
