Monster wave(3)
As Mark headed toward the West side of the citadel, the scene of chaos painted itself vividly before his eyes. Flames devoured some buildings, while disoriented people ran in all directions, unable to find shelter.
No one had prepared for such a devastating attack and, now that reality struck them, fear reigned supreme.
Mark's figure stood out nimbly among the crowd, with his almost superhuman speed. Since the ring had reached 25%, he felt his strength had intensified unusually; in fact, as the Guide later explained to him, it was now comparable to that of a level 1 adventurer with C stats.
"Damn, they've already gotten here!"
In front of him appeared a goblin with a rudimentary spear, riding a wolf.
As soon as the monster noticed Mark's presence, it charged towards him.
Mark, still running, deftly drew his claymore from its sheath and firmly planted his foot on the ground. He could see the monster's spear about to strike him, but with a simple movement of his hand, he deflected the spear with the blade.
The powerful impact destabilized the goblin, but for Mark, it was only the beginning of his counterattack. With a quick movement of his hand, he delivered a slash that decapitated the wolf without hesitation. Before the goblin could react, Mark spun around, delivering a second slash that split the monster in two.
The entire fight was swift, lasting only a few seconds before Mark resumed his run. Along the way, he encountered other monsters, but if he couldn't eliminate them with a few strikes, he ignored them to continue without delay.
"Damn it!"
Arriving near the orphanage, Mark faced several lurking monsters, with the building's door reduced to ruins, and without the slightest hesitation, he ignored the monsters outside to rush inside.
He could hear the children's cries and the monsters' sounds as they tried to force their way into the room where Agata was.
Mark felt the blood rush to his head, and with an enraged charge, he threw aside the two goblins, who were trying to break down the door of the room where the children and Agata were hiding.
The monsters that had fallen to the ground tried to react, but Mark didn't give them time. He drew his dagger, as it was more convenient in the tight space, and angrily stabbed the heads of the two monsters.
"Agata, are you there?!" - Mark knocked on the door urgently.
"M-Mark, are you okay?! Thank the gods, I thought something had happened to you."
Agata's voice was trembling, but knowing that Mark was alive and well reassured her deeply.
"I'm fine, what about you all?" - Checking that no monsters were coming, he asked quickly.
"We're all fine except for Elijah. His leg is injured and he can't walk, that's why we couldn't leave with the others!"
Agata tried to open the door she and the children had fortified when they heard Mark's deep voice.
"Damn it, more monsters are coming! Listen, there's no time. It's chaos out there now and there are too many monsters around; so stay there and don't make any noise, clear? I'll draw them away so they'll focus on me."
"No, wait, Mark, it's dangerous! Mark!"
Agata's frantic cries were useless as Mark ran out of the orphanage, killing a goblin, who was trying to enter, with a single stab of his sword.
"This is going to be a big problem…"
Sweat started to drip down his forehead at the sight of more than fifty goblins, with some riding wolves. Even though those types of monsters were no longer a major problem for Mark's strength level, he wasn't stupid enough to think he could take on such a number in an open space.
"You want a piece of me, bastards?! Then come and get it!"
With a provocative shout, he started running towards a more enclosed area and soon began to be chased by the mini-horde of monsters, marking his success in attracting them.
'Maybe too much.' - He thought as he glanced at the approaching monsters out of the corner of his eye.
He also had to be careful about another factor: not being seen by anyone while fighting, as there would be problems considering the strength he possessed despite not having the blessing of a God.
If he wanted to, Mark could have ignored the horde and hid, letting the guards take care of it, but he knew for certain that a large number of people would die because of it.
Mark didn't consider himself a saint willing to sacrifice himself for others, but he didn't want his actions to cause the death of innocent people.
Taking advantage of the situation, he threw himself into a house, breaking through the window, and made as much space as possible inside, using as many pieces of furniture and obstacles as barriers.
The monsters that saw him enter the house followed closely, finding themselves squeezed due to the limited space.
Meanwhile, Mark started to stab through the gaps in the barricade he had created. This tactic allowed him to reduce the number of monsters, but it was impossible for such a barricade to last long; gaps began to appear, allowing monsters to pass through.
Gripping the weapon with both hands, Mark focused solely on the monsters getting through, killing them as quickly as possible. However, with the increasing number of monsters managing to pass, he realized that staying in the house any longer would only put him in a worse position.
/Inhale./
With a deep breath, he vaulted over the barricade he had erected, landing amidst the monsters that promptly lunged at him. Mark honed his focus to its utmost and wielded a goblin's corpse as a shield to deflect the onslaught of attacks.
"AAARGH!"
With a war cry, he swung the claymore horizontally, creating an arc of death for all the monsters within his reach.
The brief pause didn't allow Mark to rest, but it gave him the chance to exit the house by jumping over the bodies of the other monsters trying to get in.
The escape wasn't without cost, as some monsters managed to injure him, but perhaps because he had experienced something much worse than physical torture twice, it didn't really hurt him.
"They're everywhere!"
With traces of blood belonging to both him and the monsters on his clothes, Mark looked wearily at the seemingly endless monsters. He fought, ran, and hid repeatedly, and this cycle began to deteriorate his stamina.
So, he decided to move towards the eastern walls and fight alongside the others. This would prevent him from giving his all but would allow him to catch his breath. He was worried about Agata and the children, but in that situation, he could only hope that his effort to draw the monsters away had worked.
When he reached the walls, he could see a sort of organization where people took turns fighting the monsters coming from outside the walls and those already inside.
Mark joined them without anyone saying anything, as even one more person was helpful.
Since the invasion began, countless casualties have occurred. However, it was also evident that the number of monsters had significantly dwindled, empowering the defenders to launch a more forceful counterattack. After hours of relentless battle, nearly everyone believed the end was near. Yet, it was precisely in these critical moments that utmost vigilance was required.
"H-HOBGOBL-ARGH!"
"R-RUN!"
"KYAAAA!"
From the walls, Mark could see people running desperately, and among them, two figures at least two meters tall.
[Hobgoblins are monsters whose power level reaches up to the limit of level 1. Please be cautious.]
The Guide's words hardened Mark's expression as he quickly began to retreat but was forced to stop because of the wall of fire that had formed.
During the chaos, the various barrels of oil spilled, creating a wall of fire around him.
'Yeah, no chance I can pass through that.'
Mark had seen with his own eyes monsters reduced to ashes by the intensity of these flames, and the problem was that he wasn't alone in there.
/GRRAAH!/
One of the hobgoblins had been trapped with him. The monster had a much larger frame than Mark. Its mouth was smeared with fresh blood, its sharp teeth gleaming menacingly in the dim light. It wore a rudimentary leather armor, patched in several places. Its clawed hands gripped a sword in relatively good condition. The hobgoblin's red eyes glinted with cruel malice, and from its flared nostrils, a heavy, raspy breath could be heard, like that of a beast on the hunt.
"This won't be easy, will it?"
Mark's expression bore a grave seriousness, yet beneath the surface, almost imperceptibly, there simmered a sense of anticipation for the impending battle, as if he yearned to push his limits. With deliberate slowness, he unsheathed the claymore. As tension mounted and the searing heat from the encircling flames threatened to engulf them, both combatants moved in unison, poised for the clash ahead.
/CLANK!/