The square was silent.
Darrion's boots pressed against the cobblestones, each crunch echoing in the still air. Smoke clung to the ruins of once-happy homes, curling into his nostrils. His gaze swept the empty space—no children laughing, no merchants calling, no voices at all.
He stopped at the center of the square. His voice was calm, low.
"…I can't see anyone here."
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadows clinging to the half-broken houses. Did they all die? Did they escape… or were they taken?
A foreign, suffocating weight pressed on his chest. He shifted slightly, hand brushing the hilt of his longsword. Something was here.
The air split.
A ripple tore through the square, and a figure burst into existence before him—towering, monstrous.
The creature was taller than any goblin he had ever faced. Green-grey skin stretched over corded muscles, plated in crude but heavy armor. In its hand, a massive battle axe gleamed, its jagged iron teeth cruel and menacing.
Darrion's eyes hardened. His voice was steady.
"…That's no goblin."
The monster's eyes gleamed red.
"Oh look… a knight from the Union."
Darrion's eyes narrowed.
"…No way. It can talk?"
The ogre's grin stretched wide.
"I must eradicate all of you knights. You oppose my lord's plans."
Pressure deepened on Darrion's chest, sweat pricking at his temple.
"…Damn. Strong. This will be hard."
With a hiss, his sword slid free, violet light pulsing from the orb on the blackened blade. His shield snapped into place.
"So you're the source of this presence."
The ogre lowered its stance.
"Die."
Then its body vanished in a blur.
Darrion braced himself, sword raised, eyes scanning the swirling dust.
"…Where did he go?"
A prickle ran up his neck. His eyes snapped upward—
The ogre was already there, looming above him, axe raised high.
The axe came down.
Darrion leapt back, boots skidding across the stone. A thunderous impact shook the square—stone shattered, the earth split. A crater gaped where he had stood just a heartbeat before, dust and debris flung into the air.
He steadied himself, shield raised, dust rolling off his armor. His voice was flat, measured.
"…If that had connected, I'd be nothing but a corpse."
From within the haze, the ogre's laughter boomed.
"Hahaha! Quick on your feet, I'll grant you that. But you can't run forever, Union dog. My axe will crush you. And when I'm finished…"
The dust cleared just enough to reveal its jagged grin, axe resting casually on its shoulder.
"…I'll paint these streets with what remains of your body."
The ogre swung. Its axe sliced through the air with a sharp, whistling hiss. A cyclone of wind erupted from the swing, tearing at rooftops and sending shards of wood and stone flying across the square.
Darrion barely had time to react. He dove to the side as the first tornado slammed into him, metal clashing against his shield while dust and splinters shredded the air. The force threw him backward, boots skidding over loose stones. Pain flared in his shoulder where a beam had grazed him.
He rolled to regain his stance, wiping blood from a cut above his brow. The air still howled, carrying the tang of smoke and freshly upturned earth.
The ogre's axe swung again, faster this time, slicing a second tornado through the square. Darrion lunged forward, vaulting over a chunk of shattered roof that hurtled past him like a missile.
The ground trembled with every swing. Cobblestones cracked under the wind's pressure. Darrion spun, blade flashing to deflect shards, shield absorbing the brunt of jagged wood. Another swing—a third tornado—ripped through the village, peeling roof tiles from houses and sending splinters flying in every direction. He ducked low, boots scraping the dirt as he slid under the vortex, catching a shard across his arm. Pain flared, blood seeping between his gauntlets.
Each breath burned in his lungs as he darted between strikes, sprinting along alleyways, vaulting over ruined carts, and leaping onto toppled walls. His sword stayed ready, but there was no time to strike—only to survive. The wind howled in his ears, whipping his hair and armor, rattling his teeth.
The ogre didn't pause. Swing after swing, tornadoes lashed outward. Darrion twisted, fell, scrambled to his feet, and ran, the raw force of each axe blast pushing him back like a tidal wave. Dust stung his eyes; the coppery tang of blood filled his nose. Each step sent him tumbling over rubble, his arms straining to lift shield and sword against the relentless onslaught.
The fourth swing caught him squarely. Darrion's boots skidded over loose stone, and the force hurled him into the side of a crumbling house. Wood splintered beneath him, shards stabbing armor and skin. Dust and smoke filled the air; the taste of blood burned his mouth. Pain radiated through his shoulder and ribs, sharp and relentless.
He struggled to his knees, gauntleted hands scraping against splintered wood and stone. Blood trickled from a cut above his brow, running into his eyes. Every breath burned, lungs straining against the shock of the impact.
"…Damn that fiend," he muttered through gritted teeth, wiping blood from his face. His voice was flat and calm—but the effort it took to rise told another story.
No time to rest.
From above, the air split again. A dozen glowing axes, dark and crackling with raw energy, arced toward him like living missiles. The magical projectiles cut through the dust-choked air, each trailing sparks and a faint hum of power.
Darrion's shield snapped into position, metal ringing as the first axe struck, sending vibrations up his arm. Another clipped the edge of his pauldrons, splintering stone nearby. He twisted, narrowly evading one that would have impaled him through the chest. Each dodge cost him—feet scraping, muscles tensed, sweat and blood mixing with the dust coating his armor.
One axe slammed against his shield with a thunderous crack, the impact shoving him backward. He skidded across broken tiles, boots slipping on fresh rubble, barely rolling clear of another that slammed into the wall behind him, sending wood flying into the air. Heat from the energy seared his gauntlets and forearms, sparks raining across his body.
Then the ogre appeared behind him.
"Crap… I'm done for," Darrion muttered, spinning just in time.
The axe collided with his body with crushing force. Bones rattled in his arms, muscles tensing under the shock, and the impact threw him across the square. He slammed into a ruined house, wood splintering beneath his weight. Dust choked his lungs, scraping his throat, and small shards cut his face and exposed skin.
He tried to lift his shield and sword—but the force had disarmed him.
Pain shot through his left arm. Darrion clutched it with his other hand, pressing it tightly against his chest. Blood slicked his fingers, mixing with sweat and dust. His legs trembled, ribs aching with each breath, lungs burning. Every movement was slow, deliberate, painful.
The ogre stood over him, unmoving, its gaze fixed. Darrion's chest heaved, head lowered—but his eyes narrowed slightly through the grime.
Elsewhere in the square, a pair of cautious eyes watched the chaos unfold.
Nora's boots crunched over loose stones and debris, each step careful, her gaze flicking between the ruined houses. Smoke hung low over the square, carrying the metallic tang of blood and scorched wood. She could hear it—the distant clash of metal, the grunts and shouts—but couldn't make out who was fighting.
Her chest tightened. Something powerful moved ahead. Heat prickled along her arms, a warning that danger was near. She slowed, lowering herself behind a toppled cart, peering into the clearing.
The sight that met her eyes made her stomach drop. A massive figure loomed over a lone knight, swinging a huge axe with effortless strength. The knight staggered, armor dented and bloodied, barely keeping himself upright.
Nora pressed her hands against her chest, trying to steady her racing heartbeat. Whoa… he looks like the goblin fiends and their chief from before, but way bigger—and stronger. He must be the source of this suffocating presence.
"There's a Union knight fighting him," the young man with her whispered, backing away slowly from the fierce monster. His legs trembled, and his hands pressed against his chest, knuckles white.
A Union knight… oh no. Nora's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, blood streaked across his armor.
A Union knight… oh no. Nora's eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, blood streaked across his armor.
My master said never to get involved with them. She'd warned me that showing my magic could put me in danger if the Union found out. Nora's fingers twitched, brushing against her side almost without thinking.
I'll be in big trouble. Her chest felt tight, her heartbeat quickening. A bead of sweat slid down her temple.
She swallowed, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension in her shoulders wouldn't ease.
"That knight… he looks badly injured. He'll die at this rate," the young man said, shoulders heaving with panicked breaths, knees wobbling beneath him.
"What?! He'll die?!" Nora exclaimed, her voice catching in her throat. Her heart raced, heat rising in her face, breaths quick and shallow.
Should I help him? Or should I avoid him? Nora's hands flexed at her sides as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The metallic tang of blood and sweat filled her nose, forcing her to swallow hard.
Darrion clutched his arm, face tense with pain. "This creature… I've never seen him in the Union's list… he's too strong… what am I going to do?" he muttered through clenched teeth, eyes wide.
"Miss, please… do something! If he dies… we all will die here. My sister…" The young man's voice cracked, tears running down his dirt-smudged cheeks. He sank to one knee, hands trembling as they gripped the grass.
"After I'm done with you, I'll kill everything in sight—humans and livestock alike. Their lives are all the same to me," the ogre rumbled, his deep voice making the ground vibrate.
"I'm sorry for disobeying you, master, but I can't let anyone die. Not when I have the power to save them. Even though he's part of the Union who slaughtered our kind, his life is still precious. I can't stand idly by," Nora whispered fiercely, hands trembling as they glowed with heat.
She concentrated, chest rising and falling rapidly, veins standing out on her forearms as a ball of swirling fire coalesced in her hands. Heat radiated from it, tingling across her skin.
"Time to die, knight!" The ogre swung his axe down, metal scraping through the air. Darrion closed his eyes, tensing every muscle as he braced for impact.
"Fireball!" Nora shouted. The fiery projectile shot forward, streaking through the smoky air. It struck the ogre squarely, kicking up a cloud of dirt and ash. The impact made the ground tremble beneath their feet.
"Arrrghhh!" The ogre grunted, stumbling back, his armored boots digging deep furrows into the dirt.
"A flame witch?" His eyes widened in surprise, smoke curling from his singed armor.
"This is an interesting find," he laughed, a harsh, grinding sound.
"I should report this to my lord. He'll be pleased with this news," he added, voice echoing as shadows rippled across his form.
Then, suddenly, the ogre vanished, swallowed by shadow. The air seemed to shiver and crackle in his absence.
"A witch… in the village…" Darrion collapsed onto the ground, knees striking the dirt with a dull thud. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, and the metallic taste of blood coated his lips.
"Hey, Mr. Knight," Nora called, running toward him, boots scraping against gravel. She knelt beside him, fingers brushing against the rough metal of his armor, but he didn't respond.
He was only fainted from his injuries, she realized, brow furrowing. Relief and urgency mingled as she wiped dirt from his face.
"He's still alive. Let's bring him back to my place and get him patched up. I'll take my sister too," the young man said, gathering himself—hands trembling but determined, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.
Nora nodded firmly, a spark of resolve in her eyes. Together, they lifted the knight, steadying him between them, ready to move before the village fell silent again.