"Kiego?" Lily's voice rose, tinged with disbelief. "An A-class at only eighteen? I've never heard of such a thing. I thought that could only happen when you were twenty or..." She trailed off, glancing at the others. "Well, I'm the youngest defender among the six Imperial Defenders. Let's go!"
Meanwhile, the unit of defenders accompanying Namizo arrived at the outskirts of the village. They skidded to a halt, the stench of iron hitting them instantly. The scene was a nightmare of carnage: limbs and severed parts of monsters were strewn across the dirt. Goblins, werewolves, man-eating reptiles, orcs, and direwolves—all lay in a gruesome heap.
In the center of the slaughter stood Satoro. He was drenched in a cocktail of crimson blood. He leaned heavily on one knee, his chest heaving, using his war-hammer, STORMRAIDER, as a makeshift crutch. It was clear he had stood his ground against a large army.
The defenders rushed toward him.
"Master Raika! Are you alright?" one of the men shouted, scanning Satoro for life-threatening wounds.
"Don't worry, most of it isn't mine."
Satoro offered a weary, blood-flecked grin. "Not bad, I guess. I could still go on all morning." He gave a dry chuckle that turned into a cough. "They don't stand a chance against me. You should have seen me in my prime! Ha ha ha!"
He made a sharp attempt to stand, his pride momentarily outweighing his exhaustion. His legs buckled immediately. Before he could hit the red-stained earth, two defenders caught him by the arms, steadying him.
"Where's Namizo?" Satoro asked, his voice rasping. "What happened to the A-upper class?"
As the last echoes of battle faded, the sentient blade STORMRAIDER dissolved into a mist of pure energy, sinking back into Satoro's skin.
"Namizo went to handle it," Defender Two reported, his eyes scanning the horizon.
Satoro's expression darkened. "We must hurry. He's no match for an A-upper class..." He stopped mid-sentence, his head snapping back toward the dark eaves of the Sun Forest. His eyes narrowed, pupils tracking something unseen.
"What is it, Master Raika?" Defender Three asked, hand moving instinctively to his hilt.
"There's more coming!" Satoro barked.
Far off, where the shimmering transparent veil of the force field had been torn open, the trees began to groan. A violent rustle swept through the canopy like a physical wave. Then came the roar—a hoard of hundreds of monsters charging through the breach, their footfalls shaking the damp earth.
"Dammit!" Defender One shouted over the rising din. "We have to seal the hole!"
"I can do it," Defender Three chimed in, voice tight with stress. "But without Namizo and his barrier magic to anchor me, it's going to take time. Forty-five minutes, maybe more."
Defender Two looked at the approaching treeline, then back at his exhausted commander. "What about the monsters? We can't hold them off ourselves. There's only four of us, and Master Raika is running on fumes."
"Oh, come on!" Satoro let out a jagged laugh, though his knees trembled. "I can still kill a thousand more of those bastards!"
"NO!" the defenders shouted in unison, their voices flat and final.
Satoro's laughter rang out again, defiant and rasping. "Hahaha!"
The humor died as Defender One looked toward the village, his face grim. "I hate to say this... but we're out of options. We have to abandon the village."
"WHAT?" The cry erupted from the group, a mixture of shock and outrage.
"We can't take them on," Defender One repeated, his voice firm despite the chaos. "And there's no way to seal the breach with them swarming us. Without Namizo, that seal will take forty-five minutes minimum. We've already evacuated the villagers from Shibawa; what we can do now is fall back, join the other units, and hold the line there. We cannot let them penetrate any further toward the Imperial City."
"But... abandoning the village..." Defender Two trailed off, looking back at the empty homes.
"He's right," Satoro interrupted, his voice dropping to a gravelly, commanding tone. "We have to leave Shibawa. All that matters is that we protect the people." He turned his gaze toward Defender One. "That said, when the time comes, I want you and Namizo to take over the care of the villagers as their Master. As for me... I'm joining the Imperial Defenders again. I've realized my fight isn't over yet."
Satoro pulled his arm away from Defender Two's support. Standing tall despite his exhaustion, he pressed his thumb and index finger to his lips and let out a piercing, high-pitched whistle that cut through the roar of the approaching monsters.
In the distance, a direwolf lunged from the breach, its massive form a blur of gray fur and hunger as it sprinted toward them at terrifying speed.
"Master Raika...?" Defender Three whispered, her voice trembling as the beast closed the gap.
"Calm down," Satoro said, his eyes fixed on the sky. "She'll be here in a minute. Haven't flown in decades, though..."
Seconds later, a massive shadow swept over the grass. A large griffin, wings beating like thunderclaps, soared over the defenders. The air from its wings nearly knocked them back as it banked sharply and landed with a heavy, rhythmic thud behind them.
The defenders watched in silent awe as the majestic creature folded its golden-brown wings. Wordlessly, they began to move toward her.
Despite his injuries, Satoro approached the beast with a limp that didn't diminish his presence. He looked up into the griffen's golden eyes with a soft, tired smile.
"How are you doing, my Angel? Brings back memories, doesn't it?"
He reached out to pat her neck, but as his hand made contact, a sharp crack of static electricity barked between them. Satoro yanked his hand back, shaking it wildly. "OWW! Dammit!"
The griffen let out a shrill, screeching trill that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
"Urm... Master Raika?" one of the defenders muttered, looking confused.
"Yeah, yeah... sorry about that," Satoro grumbled, nursing his fingers. He looked back at the griffen. "Take us away, Angel."
The team scrambled onto her massive back. Angel spread her wings, the span wide enough to blot out the sun, and took a powerful running start. With a massive heave, she leaped from the earth and clawed into the sky.
They weren't high enough yet. Below them, the direwolf was a blur of gray rage. Seeing its prey escaping, the beast coiled its powerful hind legs and launched itself into the air, jaws unhinged and aimed straight for Angel's underbelly.
Satoro saw the shadow. He stood up on the griffen's back, his exhaustion replaced by a sudden, terrifying coldness in his eyes.
"No one," he hissed, his voice vibrating with power, "touches my Angel."
He thrust his hand toward the clouds.
"AWAKEN... STORMRAIDER!"
A jagged pillar of violet lightning ripped through the gray sky, striking Satoro's arm with the force of a falling star. The bolts didn't dissipate; they swirled around his limb, condensing and hardening into the shape of a massive, glowing war hammer.
The direwolf's jaws were inches from the griffen's tail when Satoro gripped the handle. The weapon erupted in a blinding flash, sparks dancing along the metal like living things, ready to strike.