The night was oppressively silent—the kind of silence that pressed against the ears, made the skin prickle, and the heart race.
Wu Chen stood at the edge of the village, his senses sharpened to a blade's edge, his posture calm but coiled with anticipation.
It had been days since the last disturbance from the forest—days of tense quiet and uneasy preparation. The villagers had fortified their defenses as best as they could—barricades reinforced, weapons sharpened, torches burning through the night. But deep down, they all knew their true shield was Wu Chen.
And Wu Chen had a feeling.
A deep, unshakable instinct whispered that tonight was the night.
Their earlier games of stealth and fear were over. The boss—whatever ruled those twisted shadows—had grown impatient.
So the hunt would begin in earnest now.
He had warned the villagers. Told them to be ready. And though fear flickered in their eyes, they had obeyed without question.
To them, Wu Chen was more than a guest—he was a leader.
Now, they stood behind him in formation, makeshift weapons in hand, their backs straight, eyes fixed on the treeline. The barricades they'd constructed stood like a jagged wall between them and the dark.
Women and children had been secured deeper in the village, better protected this time—an order Wu Chen made firm.
Not that the villagers doubted their victory. With Wu Chen leading them, their spirits burned fierce, their resolve unshaken. But he knew better than to underestimate the enemy.
So at the very front, like a general staring down an approaching storm, stood Wu Chen.
And to his right, Li Wei gripped a newly-forged spear, knuckles white. His face was pale, but his jaw was tight, his stance steady.
"Do you think they'll come tonight?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Wu Chen heard him, but didn't answer right away. His gaze was fixed on the hills, where he could sense it—that dark, oppressive presence. The boss creature was approaching.
The air thickened, heavy as thunderclouds before a storm. Even the forest seemed more strange now.
"...Yes," Wu Chen said at last, his voice low and steady. "They're coming. Be ready."
And as if on cue, a low, guttural growl echoed through the forest, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone.
The ground trembled faintly, and the trees at the edge of the clearing began to sway, though there was no wind.
"Everyone, to your positions!" Old Man Zhang's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, slicing through the hush like a blade.
The villagers steadied themselves, hands tightening on weapons, breath held in collective tension. Their faces were pale, but their eyes no longer held fear—only resolve.
Wu Chen stepped forward, the broken spearhead in his hand gleaming under the cold silver of the moon.
He could feel the thrum of the demonic cores he'd absorbed pulsing beneath his skin—like distant war drums echoing in his blood. He was stronger now. Sharper. But he knew full well—this battle would be unlike any before.
The first wave of creatures emerged from the forest, their glowing eyes and twisted forms illuminated by the flickering light of the torches.
The Boss definitely is intelligent and cunning.
It always seem to be attacking under the cover of the night, and it seems It had chosen the night deliberately. Not just for the veil of darkness, when human sight was at its weakest, but for the way fear curdled in the human heart when the sun vanished.
Even an empty forest at midnight could make men imagine horrors—how much worse when the horrors were real, and hungry?
The creatures moved with a terrifying speed, their claws slashing through the air as they charged toward the village.
"Hold the line!" Wu Chen's voice rose above the chaos, calm and unyielding.
Then the world dissolved into violence.
The villagers braced themselves as the creatures crashed into the barricades. The sound of clashing weapons and snarling beasts filled the air, a cacophony of chaos and desperation.
Wu Chen at the head was already in motion. He moved through the fray like a shadow, his spearhead cutting through the creatures with deadly precision. Each strike was fluid, calculated—his instincts far ahead of the battle itself.
Behind him, villagers held the line with grim determination, cutting down the creatures that slipped past.
Li Wei fought to push forward, wanting to stand beside his teacher. His movements were still raw, still clumsy—but filled with resolve. Though he had grown stronger than before under Wu Chen's guidance, but he was still no match for the Level 3 demonic creatures.
So Wu Chen kept a close eye on him, stepping in whenever the young man was in danger. His blade flashing to defend without breaking rhythm.
A Level 3 creature lunged, talons aimed for Li Wei's throat—
—Until Wu Chen's spear punched through its eye, the tip erupting from the back of its skull in a spray of black ichor.
"Watch your flank," Wu Chen growled, already turning to the next threat.
And so the battle raged on, the villagers holding fast to the formation they had devised under Wu Chen's guidance.
At the forefront stood the barricades—splintering wood and sharpened stakes slick with black ichor, halting the creatures' momentum just long enough for counterattacks.
Directly behind it, alone on the front line, stood Wu Chen—an immovable figure against the tide. He faced the deadliest of the beasts, especially the higher-level ones, with unshaken focus.
Just a step behind him was Li Wei, holding his ground with admirable courage. Though still inexperienced, he had stopped many creatures in their tracks, his spear flashing with growing confidence.
Behind them stood the second line of defense—the youths Wu Chen had trained over the past weeks. Their stances were firmer now, their strikes more precise. Each one bore the mark of Wu Chen's teachings.
And at the rear, the village elders stood in the last line, protecting the flanks and ready to support those who faltered.
They all fought with everything they had.