Chapter 6: The First Siege

Chapter 6: The First Siege

The village was alive with frantic energy, each of the eleven villagers moving with a sense of urgency that was both exhilarating and terrifying. The morning air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the tang of sweat. Hammers pounded nails into fresh wood, barrels were rolled into position, and every adult worked with grim determination. I stood at the center of it all, watching the glowing table, my heart thudding as I tracked the red enemy markers creeping closer on the map.

"System, any chance I can get an actual hint about what's coming?" I hissed, clutching the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white.

[Host! Wouldn't you rather be surprised? Besides, I can offer you a Mystery Box for only 100 gems! Contents may include: rare resources, a defensive item, or… well, something else.]

I glared at the hovering icon. "You're selling loot boxes now? In a life-or-death situation? This was also not present in the game? Right!"

[Host! It's called 'dynamic monetization.' All the best games do it. So, how can I leave it out for you, Host! Don't worry, Host! This is completely unique only for you.]

I sighed, eyeing my gem stash-just 150 left. "Fine. I'll buy it. Open one Mystery Box."

A spinning chest materialized above the table, showering us with sparks. It popped open with a triumphant chime.

[Congratulations! You've received… a Bag of Marbles. Throw at enemies to trip them up. One use only.]

I reached into the chest and pulled out a small drawstring bag made of coarse, faded green fabric. The bag was surprisingly hefty, bulging with its contents. I loosened the string and poured a handful into my palm. Inside, there were about a hundred marbles-each one a perfect sphere of glass, their colors ranging from deep cobalt blue and emerald green to fiery red and golden amber. Some were clear as crystal, with delicate swirls trapped inside, while others were opaque, their surfaces glazed with pearlescent sheen. They clicked together in my hand, cool and smooth, their polished surfaces catching the morning light.

I stared at them, then at the system, then back at the marbles. "A hundred marbles. For a hundred gems. That's nearly one gem per marble. You're telling me each of these little glass balls is worth a whole gem?"

[Host! These are not just any marbles. These are premium marbles. Handcrafted by the finest glassblowers in the Systemverse. Each one is a work of art-and a potential lifesaver.]

I rolled my eyes. "Right. And I suppose if I miss, I can at least admire them while I die."

[Host! That's the spirit!]

I pocketed the marbles, muttering curses under my breath as I strode toward the gate, already dreading the moment I'd have to explain to the villagers why their chief was about to throw a fortune in glass at a bunch of orcs.

Outside, Bram and Joren finished reinforcing the gate. Lina moved among the villagers, handing out thick slices of bread and mugs of weak ale, her voice steady and reassuring despite the fear in her eyes. The forest beyond the walls was eerily silent, the usual chatter of birds and rustle of animals absent.

The only sound was the rhythmic scrape of shovels and the occasional clink of metal as we prepared for the worst.

Then, the alarm bell clanged-a harsh, urgent sound that sent a jolt through the entire village. Elsa, perched in the crude archer tower, shouted, "They're here!"

I sprinted to the wall, my boots kicking up mud as I climbed the rickety ladder. Six hulking orcs, their muscles glistening under blue war paint, advanced in a loose formation. Behind them, a hunched goblin shaman waved a crooked staff, muttering in a guttural tongue that sent shivers down my spine. The scent of damp earth and something foul-like rotten meat and old blood-filled the air.

The cannon fired with a deafening boom, sending an orc flying into a tree. He stuck there, arms and legs splayed, looking both surprised and deeply disappointed in his life choices. The villagers cheered, but the other orcs ducked behind trees and rocks, advancing cautiously. The shaman gestured, and a sickly green mist crept along the ground, writhing like a living thing.

"System, what is that?" I asked, my voice tight with panic.

[Host! Minor necromancy. The shaman is trying to raise fallen goblins as undead minions. I recommend stopping him.]

"Great. Any suggestions?"

[Host! You have marbles.]

I groaned. "Fine. But if this doesn't work, I'm asking for a refund."

I grabbed a handful of marbles from the bag, wound up like a kid at a carnival, and flung them with all my might. The marbles scattered wildly-some bounced off the palisade, one ricocheted off a barrel, rolled between Finn's legs, and a few plopped into the mud with a sad little splash. The shaman, still chanting, didn't even flinch.

"Missed," Finn muttered, his voice flat.

"By a mile," Sera added, shaking her head.

I felt my face flush, my ears burning. My dignity, already fragile, shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. I could feel the tears welling up-hot, humiliating tears of failure. But no, I was the chief. I couldn't cry. Not in front of my villagers. Not over marbles. Not ever.

Lina, standing beside me with a slingshot, sighed. "Let me try."

She plucked a single marble from the bag, took a deep breath, and-twang!-let it fly. The marble arced through the air and smacked the shaman square in the forehead. He yelped, dropped his staff, and toppled backward into the mud. The spell fizzled out with a pathetic pop.

The villagers erupted in cheers. "Lina! Lina! Lina!"

I stood there, mouth open, blinking back my tears. "Since when are you a sharpshooter?"

Lina shrugged, grinning. "I have a good arm. And I practice."

[Host! Lina has demonstrated exceptional accuracy. Recommendation: to promote Lina to archer in the future. She could lead the archers in the future raids.]

I wiped my eyes discreetly with my sleeve, praying no one noticed. I was the chief, after all. I had to be strong. Even if my heart was breaking over a bag of marbles.

I clapped her on the back, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Looks like you're in charge of the archers from now on."

She blushed, but her eyes sparkled with pride. The villagers, emboldened, rained stones and boiling water from the walls. Lina, now with a newfound confidence, picked off another orc with a well-aimed stone. The remaining orcs hesitated, glancing back at their fallen shaman, then charged.

***

And somewhere, far above, the god of Chaos scribbled a note:

Note to self: never underestimate the baker with the slingshot. Or the chief with the marbles-who should stick to management.

***

The gate groaned under the weight of their assault. Bram and Joren braced themselves, their muscles straining as they pushed back. Finn, Sera, and Rik darted forward, wielding pitchforks and sticks, their faces set with grim determination. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and the sharp tang of fear.

One orc broke through, his massive frame crashing into the village square. Finn tripped him with a well-placed stick, and the villagers piled on, holding him down until he stopped struggling. The others, seeing their comrades fall, turned and fled into the woods, dragging the unconscious shaman with them.

Silence settled over the village, broken only by the sound of ragged breathing and the occasional groan of pain. I slumped against the wall, my legs shaking, my heart pounding. The villagers gathered around, their faces bruised and bloodied, but alive.

Elsa stepped forward, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Chief, if this is just the beginning, we need better defenses. And maybe… fewer experiments with corpses?"

I managed a weak grin. "Agreed. No more corpse gardening-unless it's absolutely necessary."

[Host! I must inform you: these attackers were only scouts. The real warbands are still out there. Prepare accordingly.]

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Of course they are."

As the adraneline fell, I stood atop the battered wall, staring at the skies. The system's blue screen hovered nearby, annoyingly cheerful.

[Feeling heroic now, Host?]

"More like exhausted. And maybe a little scared."

[Good. That means you're finally learning something.]

"And where's my reward for successfully defending the siege, system?!"

[About that... Host! Your's siege mission is not over or actually not even started?! ]

Eh??!

"What do you mean?!"

Somewhere, far above, the god of Chaos cackled, scribbling in his notebook.

"Let's see how you will handle the real siege, Max. The readers will absolutely love this…"

I shivered, but I couldn't help smiling.

Whatever came next, at least I had marbles-and, for better or worse, my villagers