The village slept like it was hiding from its own heartbeat. Roofs hunched low against the sky, windows dark, doors barred tight enough to make the wood groan. The only sound left was the wind crawling through the alleys and the soft creak of my boots when I shifted weight.
I had the watch tonight. My eyes were on every shadow that dared to move.
The air smelled of damp hay, burned tallow, and something sour from the pigpens at the far edge. It wasn't exactly inspiring, but I'd smelled worse. Much worse. The night wasn't young anymore; it had settled into that deep, stretched silence between midnight and dawn when even the crickets get tired of themselves.
And yet—no vampires.
No claws tapping, no whispers, no gleam of hunger sliding across a window. Nothing. Just the wind making ghosts of itself.
I crouched behind the corner of a small granary, arms folded, eyes sweeping the lane. A faint chill clung to my breath. I muttered under it, "Where are you, night monsters? Come out and play with me."
The whisper vanished in the air.
"I'm dying to dance," I added quietly. "Let's make it a deadly one."
Of course, nothing answered. Nothing ever does when you want it to.
That's the way life works, doesn't it? You wait for something to happen—it doesn't. Not when you're ready, not when you want it most. Only later, when you're looking the other way or dreaming of breakfast, that's when the thing you've been expecting finally kicks in and ruins your peace.
I sighed and shifted again, careful not to scrape stone. My eyelids felt heavier than they should. I hadn't slept since we left the Academy station two days ago. The march to this village had been long, and my body was staging a small rebellion.
The trick was to stay moving. If I sat too long, I'd fall asleep upright, and vampires loved sleepers. So I kept walking, circling the alleys, slipping from one corner to another. My boots made almost no sound. Every few minutes, I paused, listened, then moved again.
The System was always awake inside me, humming at the back of my mind like a low-burning ember. A simple thought could wake it fully. Eventually boredom and exhaustion got the better of me. I willed it to life.
Firelight spilled across the air in front of me—letters etched in flame, lines forming into the clean, perfect geometry of a System Codex. They burned bright enough to see yet gave no heat. I lifted my hand and brushed one of the lines. It rippled like water but didn't burn.
The text shifted into focus:
[ SYSTEM CODEX – AWAKENED ]
Name: Ava Monroe
Trade: Demon and Beast Slayer
Rank: Field Initiate
Level: 1
Gender: Female
Slayer Points: 35
Health: 640 / 740
Stamina: 520 / 620
Mana: 510 / 510
Attributes
STRENGTH 76
AGILITY 88
VITALITY 61
INTELLIGENCE 49
WISDOM 52
LUCK 41
Achievements
• Seasoned in the Arts of Combat
• Trained in Communion with the System
• Scholar of Arcane and Mortal Knowledge
Equipment Access
Available Armor Sets: 3
Weapons within Armory: 10
Battle Memory Replay: Locked
Healing Elixirs Remaining: 57 %
Arcane Storage Vault: 35 % of 100 % Capacity Used
Night Vision: Deactivated
Focus Zoom: Deactivated
Additional Functions: [Access via Thought or Gesture Command]
[ CODEX POWER DOWN ]
I smiled faintly. "Still breathing, still dangerous," I murmured. Then I willed it away, and the flames folded into nothing.
The night felt emptier without it.
Out of curiosity, I wondered what Chloe's stats looked like. Probably high Agility—she moved like a cat. Landon, on the other hand, was built like a showpiece. His Strength might even beat mine, though I'd rather swallow glass than admit it. Not that I'd ever know. Slayer stats were private, locked by the System's own code. Only higher-ranked commanders could view another Slayer's data. Among Field Initiates, privacy was absolute.
Which meant Chloe could be Level 3 for all I knew. Or she could still be at zero, coasting on flirtation and blind luck. And Landon? He could have the stats of a stone idol and still expect the world to swoon.
I laughed under my breath. "Knowing him, they would."
The sound of my voice in the dark startled me. I stopped moving, listening again. The silence that followed was too perfect, like the village itself had paused to eavesdrop.
Nothing. Just air.
Hours dragged by. The stars wheeled, invisible behind clouds. I walked the same lanes twice, three times. Peered behind barns. Checked the well. Nothing. The vampires must have decided to skip their nightly feast.
The temptation to sit was nearly unbearable. I fought it off, patting my cheeks once, hard. "Not tonight, Ava," I whispered. "You're the hero here. Heroes don't snore through danger."
I prowled past the inn's side wall, then back again toward the churchyard. The sky above the spire was beginning to pale just slightly—the color before dawn thinks about arriving. That thin, empty gray that tricks your body into thinking you've survived the worst.
"Guess they took the night off," I muttered.
My breath made small clouds. I stretched, rolled my shoulders, and tilted my head back toward the inn's second-story window. The shutters were closed. Landon and Chloe were still inside, likely tangled in dreams—or each other. I didn't know, and I didn't want to.
The Guild never forbade relationships between Slayers. They just never encouraged them. We were told to remember the mission comes first. Deliver results. Protect the human settlements. Do not, under any circumstances, let demons or beasts reclaim ground. Everything else—love, lust, personal happiness—was left hanging in the air like optional side quests no one marked complete.
I didn't judge them, though. The world might end tomorrow, for all any of us knew. If two people wanted to find warmth before another bloody night, who was I to call it a mistake?
Still, thinking about it made me tired. I pressed my fingers to the cold sill beneath the inn's window and tapped twice. A signal we'd agreed upon. Two taps meant safe, end of watch, all clear.
A heartbeat later, the shutter lifted. Chloe's sleepy face appeared in the slit of light, hair in tangles, eyes soft with fatigue. Landon's deeper voice came from behind her.
"All quiet?"
"All quiet," I said. "Miserably quiet."
Chloe smiled. "That's good news."
"For you two, maybe," I muttered, though my tone was light.
I climbed through the narrow window with practiced ease. Chloe helped pull me in, then dropped the latch behind me. The warmth of the room hit me like a blanket. The air still smelled faintly of stew and candle wax.
"So," Landon said, propped up on one elbow, hair tousled but annoyingly perfect, "did our deadly watchwoman find anything to kill?"
"Not even a mosquito," I said. "This village is so quiet it could be a tomb."
Chloe laughed, stretching her arms. "Then your watch was successful. No screams. No corpses."
"Sure," I said, flopping onto the pallet. "Call it success. I call it boredom."
They laughed again. I closed my eyes. The sound faded. Sleep came like a tide swallowing the shore.
I woke hours later to sunlight prying through the shutters. My body protested when I rolled over. Every muscle felt heavy and relieved at the same time. A good night's rest—if you could call watching the dark all night and sleeping half a day afterward rest—was its own kind of healing.
The System confirmed it when I blinked awake.
Health: 740 / 740
Stamina: 620 / 620
I smiled into the pillow. "Rest really is king."
Outside, laughter rippled through the village. The sound pulled me upright. I rubbed my eyes, threw on my cloak, and stepped into my boots. The door creaked when I opened it, and sunlight hit my face like a slap.
The village looked different by day. Friendly, almost. Children ran between cottages chasing a stray chicken. Women carried water from the well. Men hammered boards over broken fences. Normal life returning for as long as the monsters stayed away.
Then I spotted the reason for all the laughter.
Landon.
He sat shirtless on a bench near the well, basking in the sun like some carved idol come to life. A ring of women surrounded him—laughing, giggling, leaning closer every time he opened his mouth. Chloe sat among them, her hair braided fresh, cheeks pink, eyes fixed on him like he hung the moon himself.
"Unbelievable," I muttered.
He saw me then, flashing that too-bright grin. "Ava! Come join us!"
"Pass," I said immediately.
"Oh, come on," Chloe called, her tone teasing. "We're celebrating your successful watch."
"Celebrate without me," I said, forcing a small smile. "I've got things to do."
"Suit yourself," Landon said, already turning back to his audience. One of the women handed him a drink. He raised it like a toast and winked. The group erupted in laughter again.
I shook my head, fighting an unwilling grin. The man was insufferable—and somehow effective. Maybe arrogance really was a kind of magic.
I wandered away from the noise, through narrow lanes lined with drying herbs and hanging laundry. The village didn't look rich, yet everyone worked with quiet efficiency. A few villagers nodded politely when they passed me. Most just kept their eyes down.
Near the far end of the street, an old man struggled with a cart stuck in the mud. I didn't think twice. I grabbed the side, braced my legs, and heaved until the wheels popped free.
"Thank you, miss," he said, breathless. "Blessings of the harvest on you."
"No problem," I said, brushing dirt off my gloves.
Further on, a mother dropped a basket of apples, the fruit scattering across the lane. I knelt and helped her gather them before the kids could trample them. She thanked me three times.
After that, I helped a pair of boys patch a broken fence post. It took less than a minute. Just enough to fill the hours and make me feel less like a useless blade left in its sheath.
When the last nail was hammered in, something shimmered before my eyes. Fiery letters unfolded again, bright against daylight:
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Deed Recorded — Acts of Benevolence (Minor)
Luck + 4 Points
Current Value: 45
The letters pulsed once, then dissolved into smoke.
I blinked. Then laughed quietly. "Well, that's one way to level up generosity."
No one around me had seen it, of course. The System was mine alone. Whatever it showed, it showed only to me.
I wiped my hands on my cloak and tilted my face toward the sky. Clouds drifted high and lazy, gold edging their undersides. Somewhere in the fields beyond the village, a crow cawed once and fell silent.
It wasn't a bad day, all things considered. No monsters. No corpses. Just sunlight, laughter, and a small upgrade to my stats. Maybe peace could exist between hunts after all. Maybe.
I started back toward the inn, thinking about another meal—or another nap. The thought of both sounded divine. Behind me, Landon's voice rose again, laughing about some story he was telling the village women. Chloe's laughter rang among theirs. It was loud, warm, alive.
I smiled to myself and kept walking.
Tonight someone else would take the watch. Maybe then the vampires would finally show.
And when they did—when they finally decided to crawl out of whatever hole they hid in—I'd be ready.
I'd been patient once. I could be patient again.
Because the night always comes back. It always does.