To Wu Chen's surprise, it seems like all the training he has been doing has paid off. Because even amidst the chaos, he noticed how far he had come. His movements were sharper, faster and more refined. His instincts sang with clarity, reacting before his mind fully registered the danger.
Without question, this was his best performance yet—far beyond when he had first saved the village nearly a month ago.
The villagers, too, had grown. Together they had slain scores of demonic beasts, ranging from Level 1 to Level 3.
By the numbers, it was a massacre in their favor. Wu Chen alone had slaughtered half as many demonics as the entire village combined—and his were the larger, deadlier prey.
But despite the overwhelming results, Wu Chen couldn't shake the unease creeping into his chest.
Because Something is wrong.
They is a problem.
Or problems.
These demonics—these twisted creatures—they seemed endless.
No matter how many fell beneath their blades, more surged forth to take their place. For every one slain, two more emerged from the shadows, snarling and clawing with renewed ferocity.
Wu Chen held firm, his strikes precise, his stamina undiminished, Because of his unusual cultivation of demonic cores. But the villagers doesn't have his advantage, nor were they machines. Even with all their courage and training, their bodies would eventually betray them. If this continued, exhaustion alone would be enough to bring them down—even before the creatures could.
Then something else caught his attention—something far worse.
The creatures were no longer attacking in blind fury—they were coordinated.
Their strikes were better timed, their movements more precise. They flanked, distracted, overwhelmed—working together like soldiers under command.
Wu Chen's eyes narrowed. He felt the oppressive weight of a presence somewhere in the darkness beyond.
'The boss creature...' he realized grimly, scanning the horde. 'It's close now. Watching. Directing them.'
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
This wasn't just a swarm of mindless beasts anymore.
If the boss creature was personally controlling the tide, then they were in greater danger than he'd anticipated. Its intelligence wasn't just a terrifying anomaly—it was a deadly advantage.
Because unless that creature was stopped, the horde would never relent.
Their numbers would keep surging.
Their attacks would keep improving.
And the villagers would eventually fall.
But reaching the creature with the endless horde between them... Wu Chen's gaze darkened. That would be another battle entirely.
"Li Wei!" Wu Chen called out over the chaos, his voice cutting through the clamor of battle—calm, steady, unwavering.
Li Wei turned, his face streaked with sweat and grime, knuckles white around his splintered spear. For a heartbeat, fear flickered in his eyes—not for himself, but for what his teacher was about to do.
"Stay here with the villagers. Protect them. Push the creatures back. I'll take care of the rest."
Li Wei hesitated only for a heartbeat. Though his face was pale, his grip tightened around his weapon, and he nodded firmly. "I won't let you down, Teacher."
Wu Chen gave a short nod, eyes focused and unreadable. Then, without fanfare or hesitation, he turned and charged headlong into the heart of the horde.
His movements were clean and efficient, each step calculated, each strike purposeful. He didn't waste energy on flourish or showmanship. To Wu Chen, this wasn't a matter of bravery or glory—this was simply the most logical path to neutralizing the threat.
Demonic creatures fell in his wake, their twisted forms collapsing one after another beneath the sharp precision of his attacks.
From the rear, the villagers watched with a mix of awe and disbelief. Wu Chen moved like a shadow through the chaos, calm amid the storm, unstoppable in his advance.
Yet within Wu Chen's mind, there was no sense of pride, no craving for admiration. There was only focus. Resolve. Duty.
He was not trying to be a hero.
He was just doing what needed to be done.
Behind him, Li Wei stood tall among the villagers, his voice rising above the din. "Stay together! Shield the weak! We can hold them off!"
His words carried conviction, and his courage ignited something in those around him. The villagers—once farmers and tradesmen—fought with renewed vigor, pushing back against the creatures with sharpened tools and hardened will.
As Wu Chen vanished into the thick of the horde, his figure a blur of lethal precision, cutting down the demonic creatures with unrelenting efficiency, the villagers could only watch in awe. He carved a path forward, moving with calm resolve, heedless of the danger, focused solely on reaching the one directing the chaos—the boss creature hidden at the far end of the battlefield.
Despite the madness around them, the villagers exchanged silent, reverent glances.
They had never seen anyone like him.
His quiet selflessness.
His fearless advance.
His unmatched skill.
To them, Wu Chen was no longer just their protector—he was like a living legend.
As Li Wei fought alongside the villagers, sweat on his brow and fire in his eyes, he couldn't help but feel a deep swell of pride—for the man he called Teacher.
Wu Chen's humility and unwavering resolve had taught him more than swordplay or strategy. They had shown him what it truly meant to be strong.
In that moment, Li Wei made a quiet vow: to walk the same path, to carry the same quiet strength, and to honor the example set by the unassuming young man who had entrusted him with this task.
And yet, Wu Chen himself would've dismissed the admiration if he had known. To him, this wasn't heroism or selflessness—it was simply what had to be done.
Even if he wasn't entirely certain that killing the creatures would end the trial, the clues he had gathered from the villagers pointed to it as their only path forward. He had to try.
And how could he not help them?
Their kindness, their hospitality, their unwavering belief in him—it wasn't something he could ignore. Saving them meant saving himself too, and more than that, it just felt… right.
So to Wu Chen, it wasn't about valor or sacrifice. It was the natural course of action, nothing more.