Dawn came and I went to the training grounds earlier than the others to warm up.

  You might think I’m learning swordsmanship because it is the only thing to learn for a soldier like me in this world but I am learning it for the benefit it will give me. Leading this troop is not bad at all. I have to win them over for them to follow me and trust me with their lives for protecting this estate. I want to lead them to make them my men.

  It's not that I don’t trust these soldiers but I don’t trust their training is enough to kill the monsters that have already eaten lots of Aetherglass and are already a threat to the whole kingdom.

  I have to be with them and earn their trust. I also have to get to know them to check their attitudes as well if they are really good to be trusted with my back when things turn to shit.

  CLANG CLANG CLANG

  Why is the bell ringing?

  “Ready your weapons!”

  I turn to the man shouting, a soldier but I don’t know his name.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh Lady Amethyst, why are you here? Evacuate yourself please.”

  “Why? Are we under attack?”

  “The Goblin General who attacked before was seen approaching the south gate as we speak.”

  I immediately sprint to look for a horse.

  “Wait Lady Amethyst where are you going?”

  Shit. Maybe I was too complacent of this whole situation. Because why would monsters lurking inside a mana-infested cave politely give me time to train, build stamina, and earn the trust of these men?

  They are monsters.

  They attack when they want.

  Not when I’m ready.

  “I’m such an idiot.”

  By the time I reached the estate’s southern defense wall, chaos had already begun breathing through the air.

  Soldiers rushed past me carrying crates of bolts, spears, and oil barrels. War horns echoed across the stone ramparts.

  BWOOOOOOO—!

  The vibration alone rattled through my chest like an alarm clock designed by artillery specialists.

  Above the gate, siege engines were being dragged into position.

  Ballistae creaked as thick ropes were tightened.

  KRK… KRK…

  Catapult arms were hauled down by teams of sweating soldiers.

  “Faster! Load the iron-tipped bolts!”

  “Reinforce the lower barricade!”

  “Archers to the wall! NOW!”

  Roland Greaves stood at the command platform overlooking the south field, his presence cutting through panic like a blade through silk.

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  “Shield units form two defensive rows!”

  His voice carried authority sharpened by years of battle.

  “Archers, aim for the eyes and joints! Don’t waste arrows on its torso!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Roland turned toward the gate tower.

  “Ballista crews, wait for my signal. Do NOT fire early. We only get one clean shot!”

  His eyes then lifted beyond the defensive wall.

  And I followed his gaze.

  Across the open plains—

  The Goblin General approached.

  It was taller than I remembered from the reports. Nearly twice the height of a normal man. Dark green skin stretched over muscle that looked carved from boulders. Rusted armor hung across its torso, decorated with bones and scraps of metal.

  And its weapon—

  A massive jagged cleaver dragged across the ground.

  SHRRRRRKKKK.

  Each step it took crushed grass beneath its feet.

  Behind me, I heard a soldier whisper shakily.

  “…It’s alone.”

  Roland narrowed his eyes.

  “No.”

  The single word came out cold.

  “Monsters like that are never alone.”

  “READY!”

  Roland raised his hand.

  The Goblin General roared.

  GRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!

  It charged.

  The ground trembled.

  “FIRE!”

  THWOOOM!

  The first ballista bolt launched.

  The iron spear screamed through the air—

  SHKRAAAAAK!

  It pierced the monster’s shoulder, staggering it sideways.

  Archers released in unison.

  FWIP! FWIP! FWIP! FWIP!

  Arrows rained down like black hail.

  The Goblin General howled, swinging its cleaver wildly as it slammed into the outer barricades.

  BOOOOOOM!

  Wood splintered.

  “Spearmen! Hold formation!”

  Roland leapt from the command platform, drawing his sword mid-air.

  SHING!

  He landed directly in front of the breached barricade as soldiers scrambled to stabilize the defensive line.

  The Goblin General roared again, swinging downward.

  WHOOOOOSH—!

  Roland stepped forward.

  Steel met monster flesh.

  CLANG—SPLRRT!

  His blade sliced across its forearm, drawing thick black blood that splattered across the ground like spilled oil.

  The battle exploded into chaos.

  Roland fought like a storm given human shape.

  He ducked beneath crushing blows.

  He stepped into lethal range instead of retreating.

  Every strike he made targeted tendons, joints, arteries.

  CLANG! SLASH! THUD!

  “Left flank! Reinforce!”

  “Shield wall CLOSE!”

  “Don’t break formation!”

  The soldiers rallied under his commands, their coordination tightening with every shouted order.

  The Goblin General staggered as multiple spears embedded into its leg.

  Roland seized the moment.

  He sprinted forward.

  Jumped.

  And drove his sword upward beneath the creature’s jaw.

  SHRRRRK—!

  The blade pierced deep into its skull.

  The monster froze.

  Then collapsed like a fallen tower.

  BOOOOOOOOOOM.

  Silence followed.

  Heavy.

  Unbelieving.

  Then—

  Cheers erupted.

  “We did it!”

  “The Head Soldier killed it!”

  “We WON!”

  Soldiers leaned against shields, collapsing in exhaustion. Several medics rushed toward the injured. Blood and smoke filled the air like a battlefield perfume no sane person would miss.

  Roland yanked his sword free and stumbled back slightly.

  His breathing was heavy.

  His arms trembled almost imperceptibly.

  He glanced at the monster corpse.

  Something felt wrong.

  Very wrong.

  The Goblin General’s skin…

  Had patches of darkened discoloration spreading beneath the flesh.

  Rotting.

  Poison.

  Roland’s eyes widened.

  “…Fall back.”

  No one heard him.

  They were celebrating.

  “…FALL BACK!” he roared.

  Too late.

  The earth beyond the fallen monster shifted.

  Then split open.

  A massive scaled head slowly rose from behind the hill.

  Yellow slit eyes.

  Fangs dripping thick venom.

  A body coiled like a living fortress of armored plates.

  The Basilisk.

  Gasps turned into screams.

  “WHAT IS THAT?!”

  “MONSTER—!”

  The basilisk slithered forward, its tongue flicking through the air.

  Roland’s stomach sank.

  That explains it.

  The Goblin General wasn’t invading.

  It was fleeing.

  From THIS.

  The basilisk lunged.

  SKRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEECH!!

  Siege crews panicked.

  “Fire! FIRE!”

  Ballista bolts launched again.

  THWOOOM!

  The iron projectiles struck its scales.

  And bounced off.

  CLANG! CLANG!

  Not even a scratch.

  The basilisk hissed violently, venom spraying from its fangs and melting the ground wherever it landed.

  SSSSSSSSHHHHHH—!

  Soldiers screamed as acid-like poison ate through shields.

  Roland tightened his grip on his sword.

  “…All units withdraw behind the second wall!” he ordered.

  “But sir—!”

  “That is an ORDER!”

  His mind raced through survival calculations.

  Casualties already high.

  Morale collapsing.

  Siege weapons ineffective.

  Someone had to stall it.

  Someone had to hold its attention long enough for evacuation.

  Roland stepped forward.

  I am the highest ranking combatant present.

  Therefore…

  He inhaled slowly.

  This is my responsibility.

  He raised his sword again, stepping toward the basilisk alone.

  “Head Soldier—!” one knight shouted desperately.

  “RETREAT!” Roland barked.

  The basilisk’s massive body coiled, preparing to strike.

  Roland steadied his stance.

  Exhaustion screamed through every muscle in his body.

  His lungs burned.

  His vision blurred at the edges.

  Still—

  He lifted his blade.

  “…Come then.”

  “MOVE!”

  A distant voice shouted.

  Hoofbeats thundered across the field.

  THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—!

  Roland’s eyes flicked sideways just as a horse skidded violently to a halt near the gate.

  A figure nearly fell off the saddle, clutching the reins while gasping for air.

  Blonde hair is messy. Face flushed red.

  Chest heaving like she had sprinted across the entire continent.

  Lady Amethyst Von Versailles.

  She slid off the horse, legs wobbling slightly as she staggered forward.

  “…Haaah… haaah…”

  Roland stared at her in disbelief.

  “What are you doing here?!” he barked.

  She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to breathe.

  “…Next time…” she wheezed, “…someone invent… cars…”

  “What?”

  She straightened slowly, pulling her knife from her belt.

  Her eyes locked onto the basilisk.

  Sharp.

  Focused.

  Terrifyingly calm.

  “…You looked like you were about to do something stupid,” she said between breaths.

  Roland’s expression darkened.

  “This is not your battle, Lady Amethyst. Leave immediately.”

  She walked past him.

  “…Unfortunately,” she muttered, rolling her shoulders, “…it kind of is.”

  The basilisk hissed, sensing new prey.

  Ethan cracked his neck softly.

  “I just got my reason,” he murmured.

  “And my sword.”