Village Under Attack

The evening was filled with terror. 

A lone female villager sprinted through the smoke-filled air, her ragged breaths sharp and panicked. Her lungs ached with every desperate breath.

She had her dress torn and her feet were bloodied from running across the rough terrain.

Each step felt heavier, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her, but she couldn't stop. Stopping meant death- or worse.

Behind her, the heavy footfalls of her pursuer thundered closer…

A bandit with a rusted sword glinting wickedly under the flickering glow of the evening sunset that shone through the trees. 

He had an evil grin on his face as he found satisfaction in savoring the chase. The girl's despair, hopelessness, meaningless running… all of it made him feel truly powerful and as if he could do anything he wanted.

"You think you can run forever?" he taunted, his voice thick with amusement, "no one is coming to save you. Your whole village is burning and here you are, running for nothing."

Tears blurred her vision, but she kept pushing forward, weaving through the trees as branches scraped against her skin.

Her breathing was ragged and unsteady as she felt the sides of her vision slowly becoming blurry…

Her home was under attack- she had seen her father cut down in front of her, her mother dragged away screaming.

If she stopped now, she would share their fate.

"There we go," the bandit's sneer could be heard from behind her, "tired already? That's a poor shame. I was hoping for a longer chase."

A sharp rock dug itself into the sole of her bare foot, making her stumble as pain lanced up her leg. Despite stumbling, she forced herself forward, biting back letting out a scream of pain.

She could hear the bandit closing in, his boots crushing twigs and dry leaves as he neared. 

He was toying with her, enjoying the hunt. She could tell.

She barely had time to react before her foot was caught on an exposed root, sending her sprawling onto the dirt. A sharp pain shot up her arm where she landed, but she had no time to recover.

The bandit was on her in an instant.

"No more running, girl," he sneered in a hoarse voice, "you belong to me now."

She whimpered as she felt her body pulled towards the bandit. She desperately clawed at his hand, but his grip was iron-firm.

He leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid against her ear. 

"Keep struggling," he whispered, "It makes it more fun for me. I'm going to take my time with you before handing you over…"

The girl's stomach twisted in terror, but desperation flared in her chest. She clenched her jaw, ignoring the rising panic. She needed to buy herself more time and the bandit had caught her.

'Anything… Is there anything I can do?' her mind scrambled and her thoughts raced and in the next second, she struck.

Twisting sharply, she lunged forward and sank her teeth into his nose, biting down with all her remaining strength.

"ARGH!" the bandit howled in pain, jerking back as he clutched his face, blood trickling from the wound like a broken tap.

In that moment, his grip loosened as he brought his hands to his nose, at this, the girl capitalised and ripped herself free and ran, despite her breath being ragged and her legs trembling from exhaustion.

Fury burned in the bandit's eyes as he wiped his face, his rage turning savage, "You're dead, girl! I am going to make sure you wish that you never lived!"

The girl sprinted blindly, scrambling with the aim of just making as much distance between her and the bandit. She crashed through a row of bushes, branches of the low shrubs scratching her skin. 

Still panicked, she hurriedly got up and as she did so, she realised-

She had run straight into a group of armoured figures. A party of wandering soldiers and two exotic looking animals…

Behind her, the bandit chased in an almost lunatic state as he emerged out of the shrubs but as he got to her, his anger shifted to shock as he took in the sight of armed warriors standing before him. 

In a panic, the bandit hurriedly turned around and attempted to flee, knowing that he had no chance to even get his revenge and the feeling of doom was going to come.

But before he could even get a chance to turn his body around to flee, a burst of energy surged through the air.

Shadow Sprint!

In an instant, Boy vanished in a blur of motion, his form darting forward so fast that even the soldiers barely had time to react.

The bandit only had a second to register the glowing golden eyes rushing towards him before Boy's teeth sank themselves into the man's chest, almost immediately crushing his ribs and puncturing his heart.

A sharp pain was all the bandit felt as he tried to let out a scream but Boy's bite had crushed out all the air inside his lungs. 

Falling onto the floor, the bandit took his final, gurgled breath as he hit the ground, dead and lifeless.

[Ding! Killed a F Class Bandit Grunt. 50 exp gained. +5AP]

The villager gasped, stumbling back as she took in the sight of Boy, a large dark-furred hyena the size of a donkey. 

Boy slowly turned his head toward her, but before she could scream, the sound of boots making their way towards her sounded.

The scarred veteran led the group, his hands firmly on his weapons as his eyes locked onto the girl, "What's happening here? Speak!"

The villager trembled but forced herself to respond, "Bandits… they came during the afternoon. They- set fire to our homes and killed anyone who resisted! They're still in the village, taking-"

"That's all we need to hear," the veteran interrupted grimly. He turned to the other soldiers as he ordered, "Form ranks! We push forward immediately! Protect the villagers!"

The soldiers immediately snapped into formation, their discipline unshaken by the horror ahead. Their spears bristled as they made the horses go into a full speed gallop towards the flames.

The party soon crested upon a small ridge, and at the moment the scene became clear. 

Below them, nestled between the hills and the forest's edge, a village was under siege. Not yet completely raided out. 

The countless fires caused thick black smoke to billow into the sky, darkening the horizon as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows.

A large number of the buildings have been reduced to burning rubble while others stood with parts of their walls cracked and doors broken down where villagers either fled or were dragged out by force.

While the other homes were not that badly damaged and were still flickering with candlelight, their occupants undoubtedly hid, praying that the chaos would not find them and just pass them by. 

Meanwhile, outside, the bandits were still hard at work- some looting, others setting more fire, their cruel laughter mingling with the crackling flames.

Distant screams carried through the air, punctuated by the clashing of steel and the wild shouts of attackers.

The soldiers reined in their horses sharply, their expressions darkening.

"Damn it," one of them muttered out spitefully, "if only we had gotten here quicker."

"No," the scarred veteran growled, unwilling to hear any negativity, not where there were still people to be saved, "not yet."

He turned his saddle as he immediately swung the reins on his horse and began quickly making his way down the ridge. Almost instantaneously, the rest of the soldiers followed, keeping in formation.

Meanwhile, Boy crouched low, his golden eyes scanning the razing village ground. The bandits were spreading out, taking whatever they could loot, cutting down those who resisted.

However, there was no organisation to their movements, only chaos and greed. That would be their weakness. 

He inhaled sharply, his senses expanding. Every sound and scent sharpened- the distant clash of steel, the crackling of burning wood, the acrid smoke thick in the air. He could see and sense all of that but beneath all of that, he smelled something else.

The stench of blood, the fear radiating from villagers who were taking shelter inside their homes that had become trapped as the buildings were lit on fire. He could hear their muffled cries, their desperate breathing as they hid from the merciless raiders, waiting for salvation or death.

A guttural growl built in his throat, his muscles tensing in anticipation.

There was no time to hesitate. The battle was about to begin.

He surged forward, his powerful legs propelling him down the ridge with effortless speed. 

Behind him, the feline matched his pace, keeping low as it carried the village girl on its back.

Boy flicked his gaze towards her for a brief moment. Her knuckles were white as she clung to the feline's fur, her body trembling with residual fear. But despite everything, she did not let go.

The fires of battle were raging, and Boy was about to throw himself into the mix too.