LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 3: Initial Assault
The stillness of night shattered with the first coordinated assault. It began subtly—shadows darting across the edge of the village, too quick and fleeting for clear identification. Then came the sounds: faint at first, like whispers carried on the wind, growing steadily louder.
The corrupted attacked with precision, their movements eerily synchronized. Each seemed modified in unique ways, fragments embedded deep within their flesh and weird muscular structures. They all looked like humanoid beast and monsters straight out of a nightmare.
One had elongated limbs that moved with spider-like agility, while another's skin gleamed with metallic plates, deflecting crude weapons with ease.
The villagers braced themselves. Kael, standing at the door of the meeting hall, tightened his grip on his fragment-enhanced spear.
From his position, he could see the first wave as they approached—a dozen corrupted individuals, their glowing eyes fixed on the heart of Riverstone.
Kael felt his pulse quicken as one of the corrupted broke from the group and charged toward the meeting hall. Its legs moved unnaturally fast, each stride closing the distance in seconds.
Kael stepped forward, spear raised. He waited until the last possible moment, then thrust the weapon forward. The fragment embedded in the spear flared with blue light, emitting a sharp hum. The energy seemed to guide his strike, piercing the attacker's chest with precision.
The corrupted stumbled, a mechanical hiss escaping from its body. But it wasn't down yet. It swiped at Kael with an arm that had been reinforced with jagged metal. Kael barely dodged, the air whistling as the attack missed by inches.
"Stay back!" he shouted to the villagers behind him.
The children cried out, and Kael felt a surge of determination. He shifted his grip, twisting the spear free and sweeping it in a wide arc. The weapon's sharper edge enhanced by fragments cut through the attacker's reinforced arm, severing wires and tendons.
Finally, the corrupted collapsed, sparks flying from its chest. Kael stepped back, his breathing heavy, and repositioned himself by the door.
Across the square, Marcus was in the thick of the fight. He barked orders to the villagers, directing them to hold the defensive line.
"Use the terrain!" he called out. "Force them into narrow spaces where they can't overwhelm us!"
The villagers obeyed, blocking off wide alleys with hastily constructed barricades and funneling the attackers into chokepoints. Marcus moved along the line, his eyes scanning for weaknesses.
When a group of corrupted began scaling a nearby building to flank the defenders, Marcus shouted a warning. "Archers, take them out!"
A volley of arrows, tipped with fragment-enhanced steel, streaked through the air. Two attackers fell, their augmented limbs twitching as they hit the ground. The others retreated momentarily, regrouping.
Marcus turned to a young villager holding a fragment-enhanced hammer. "Stay close to the barricade. Use that to reinforce weak spots if they break through."
"Yes, sir!" the villager replied, his voice shaking but resolute.
The defenders relied on ingenuity as much as strength. Those without fragments or fragment-enhanced weapons used tools adapted from their daily lives—pitchforks, scythes, and even fragments embedded into shields for added resilience.
One group of farmers, led by a woman named Yara, had set up a series of traps using fragment-powered tripwires.
As the corrupted advanced, the wires triggered bursts of energy, knocking attackers off balance and slowing their progress.
Others used the village itself as a weapon. Narrow streets became deadly ambush points, while rooftops provided high ground for those armed with ranged weapons.
The corrupted, however, were formidable. Their augmentations gave them superhuman speed and strength, and their coordination suggested an intelligence guiding their actions although very little.
One attacker, taller than the rest and covered in sleek black armor, seemed impervious to conventional weapons. It moved methodically, swatting aside defenders with ease. A villager swung an axe at its neck, only for the blade to bounce off harmlessly.
"They're adapting!" Marcus shouted, realizing the attackers were learning from their failures. "Don't rely on the same tactics—change it up!"
Kael, watching from the meeting hall, began to notice patterns in the corrupter's movements. They targeted specific areas—entry points to the square, supply caches, and defensive structures.
"They're not random," he muttered to himself. "They're coordinated."
The realization unsettled him. These weren't mindless creatures. Someone—or something—was directing them.
The attackers communicated in strange ways. Some emitted high-pitched clicks, while others seemed to exchange information through flashes of light from their fragment cores.
Kael could see the patterns forming—attacks in waves, testing the village's defenses for weak spots.
Amid the chaos, moments of heroism and sacrifice shone through.
Yara, the farmer who had set up the tripwires, held her ground even as a corrupted lunged at her. She activated another trap, stunning the attacker just long enough for a fellow villager to finish it off.
Nearby, an older man named Dren used his shovel to shield a group of wounded. Despite his age, he fought with a ferocity that belied his years, refusing to let the attackers near his charges.
But not all stories ended in triumph.
A young blacksmith, eager to prove himself, charged into the fray with a powerful hammer. He managed to fell one corrupted but was quickly overwhelmed by two others.
His cries echoed through the square, a stark reminder of the cost of their resistance.
From his position, Kael caught glimpses of a figure standing at the edge of the battlefield. Unlike the other attackers, this one didn't engage directly. Instead, it observed, its form cloaked in shadow.
The figure's presence exuded a quiet menace, and Kael couldn't shake the feeling that it was orchestrating the assault.
The attackers began targeting the village's infrastructure. Fragment-powered attackers smashed water pumps and tore down barricades. A group of corrupted set fire to a granary, the flames lighting up the night sky.
The destruction wasn't random—it was deliberate, designed to cripple the village's ability to fight back.
The corrupted also employed psychological tactics. They emitted strange, otherworldly sounds that unsettled the defenders.
Despite his assigned role, Kael couldn't ignore the cries for help from the square. When he saw a group of villagers pinned down near a burning building, he made his decision.
"Stay here," he told the others in the meeting hall. "I'll be back."
Kael glanced at his frightened sister before darting into the chaos, his spear glowing faintly in his hands. He reached the trapped villagers, who were struggling to fend off two attackers.
Kael charged, his spear slicing through one corrupted's leg. The attacker collapsed, sparks flying from its broken limb. The other turned on him, but Kael ducked under its swing and drove his spear upward, piercing its chest.
"Move!" he shouted to the villagers. "Get to the meeting hall!"
They obeyed, running past him as Kael held off another wave of attackers. His strength coming from the power his fragment, Lyra gave him.
As the battle raged on, it became clear that the village's defenses were beginning to crumble.
The attackers had breached several key positions, and the defenders were being pushed back toward the center.
Smoke filled the air, and the square was littered with debris. Marcus, his face streaked with soot, shouted for a retreat.
"Fall back to the meeting hall!" he ordered. "We make our stand there!"
Kael, bloodied but determined, met his father's eyes as they regrouped. The night was far from over, and Riverstone's survival hung by a thread.
The battle for Riverstone had only just begun, and the corrupted showed no signs of relenting. As Kael stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow villagers, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the first wave—and that the true threat was still out there, waiting.