Villagers

As the gunfire ceased and silence reclaimed the night, Ivan's shoulders slumped, the adrenaline that had fueled his relentless assault ebbing away. The machine gun barrel smoked from the rapid firing, adding a sulfurous tinge to the already putrid smell of goblin blood that filled the air.

Exhausted and breathless, Ivan dropped to his knees. Using his trembling hands, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He suddenly recalled his first actual close-quarter combat when enemy infantry broke through their trenches—the visceral feeling of killing someone eye to eye, using his own hands.

After a few moments, Ivan finally scanned his surroundings with his pistol and flashlight. The forest around him lay eerily quiet, the moon casting long shadows over a battlefield stained with dark, greenish blood.

He spotted his rifle on the ground and decided to pick it up. He climbed down from the tank and walked cautiously, his senses heightened, though he detected no immediate threat.

Picking up his discarded rifle, he inspected it for damage—only a scratch was found. He cocked the gun and inspected it further. Fortunately, the gun appeared still functional. He then glanced at the corpses of the goblins. As he expected, these creatures did not seem to belong to this world. But were the goblins truly from another world, or was it Ivan himself? The more he pondered, the more questions arose.

The abnormal goblin's eyes appeared gouged out, and its mouth was slashed multiple times. "What in the world are these creatures capable of?" He looked at the location where the abnormal goblin had thrown his spear, noticing the tremendous force that had created a path through the trees, chopping them down as if they were mere twigs.

Ivan estimated that he had managed to kill 60 goblins. While inspecting the surroundings, he smelled something different—aside from the putrid smell of the corpses, there was something familiar.

Suddenly, a dark, thin object fell onto his hand; it still carried a small fire that quickly extinguished upon touching him. Ivan was shocked. "There must be a forest fire!"

He quickly dashed back and climbed up to the tank. From the horizon, he saw billowing smoke rising into the sky, but there was more that surprised Ivan. It seemed like a bird was flying in the sky, spewing fire. He couldn't identify it clearly because he could only see its silhouette, but he was sure it was breathing fire.

Then suddenly, he heard cries and shouts of people. Ivan immediately realized the danger and decided to act rather than continue pondering his location. He grabbed his rucksack and began gearing up. He replenished his ammunition and grabbed a couple of grenades. After reloading, he attached a bayonet on it then with his helmet, he put on PVS 14, a single eye night vision. 

Ivan knew he needed to assess the situation, so after gearing up with the necessary combat equipment, he prepared to head towards the fire. But he hesitated, unsure whether to leave the tank unguarded.

Before leaving, he started the tank and parked it where the goblin's spear had created a path through the broken trees. Using the debris, he quickly covered the entire tank. Though the tank was still somewhat obvious, it was better concealed under the cover of night. After securing the tank, he started running along the dirt road leading to the fire. 

As Ivan approached closer, the heat wave emanating from the fire intensified, and he could hear the sounds of frantic footsteps as people ran for safety.

Through his night vision goggles, he saw a group of people sprinting away from the flames, some clutching children. "HEY! Over here!" Ivan shouted, switching on his rifle flashlight to draw their attention. As he sprinted towards them, the moonlight revealed a chilling scene: some of the fleeing villagers were collapsing to the ground, and his heart raced when he spotted the silhouette of a familiar creature. A man had fallen, and just as he struggled to stand, a goblin with an axe poised to strike was upon him. The man raised his hands, and Ivan could hear his desperate cry. "HELP ME!"

Even from a kilometer away, Ivan crouched and aimed his rifle, grateful for the 4x scope he had attached. Though not as adept a sharpshooter as his comrade Archer Reznov, Ivan is still a remarkable marksman. He steadied his breathing and squeezed the trigger.

"BANG!" The goblin attacker fell, struck down by Ivan's precise shot. "Hurry! Here!" Ivan flashed his lights rapidly, beckoning the survivors towards him.

Switching on his night vision goggles, Ivan provided cover fire for the fleeing villagers, careful to avoid hitting any civilians. Soon, the remaining survivors had reached his position.

There's 20 civilians, their clothes a mix of withered tunics covered in ashes and dirt, looking like they had stepped out of another era. Ivan eyed their attire curiously but focused on getting information. 

Where are you from and what happened?he asked the young man, whose nervous gaze darted around the battlefield. Despite his lean frame and messy light brown hair, the ill-fitting helmet atop his head couldn't hide his anxiety as he stammered a reply.

"We are under attack by demons! They surrounded our village. Our defenses weren't strong enough, and—" Before the man could finish, a massive creature flew overhead, its enormous wings blowing gusts of air at them.

"T-That thing! The demons have allied with the wyverns and converted them!" The man's words struck Ivan as fantastical. "Demons? Wyverns? Sounds like something out of a fantasy," Ivan thought, yet the sincerity in the man's voice and the evidence before his eyes were hard to dismiss.

"Where are you headed now?" Ivan asked.

"We're running towards Manilia, our neighboring village. It has better walls than ours," the man explained, though his expression darkened. "But seeing that the goblins attacked us from behind, they've probably fallen too."

Ivan processed the information. He couldn't recall any village named "Manilia" from his mission briefing or his study of the local geography. "Where is this village?"

"This path will lead us there."

"Do you have any escorts? Or any military or police personnel responding?" Ivan probed.

The villager seemed confused by the terms "police" and "military," but he understood what Ivan meant. "Adventurers helped us evacuate, but—" he paused, his voice trembling, "There was a huge monster that smashed our defenses, and those adventurers faced it head-on... I... I don't know if they're still alive."

Ivan furrowed his brow. "Everything this guy is saying sounds like it came from the fictional shows or anime that Reznov always watches. Do I have to believe everything I'm hearing or seeing right now?" His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crashing noise, the sound of trees being destroyed, and the ground trembling slightly.

The villagers dropped to their knees, their panic palpable in the air. Then the man grasped Ivan's arm urgently, his eyes pleading. "You're also a mage, right?! I saw you wield that staff—an unusual or should I say mythical item—that releases short bursts of fire with the sound of thunder, capable of inflicting damage at a distance! Please help them! Many villagers are still behind, and I know you are powerful. Please, help them!"

Ivan was puzzled. "But what about you?" he asked.

"Don't worry about us! We can still run," the man said as he unsheathed his sword. His hands were still shaking. "I…I will try to protect us from those goblins, even if I have to sacrifice myself. We will run, so please go ahead, and we will try to ask for reinforcements from Manilia!"

Ivan looked into the man's eyes and saw his resolve. From his holster, Ivan pulled out his Glock 18 pistol and attached a flashlight to it. He took the man's hand and placed the pistol in it.

"You must have some idea how to use this."

But the man stared at the mysterious item in front of him and shook his head. "N-no, I don't know what this is, and I'm not a mage."

Ivan clicked his tongue, then took the villager's hand, guiding it to hold the pistol. "Point this at any goblin or creature that tries to kill you," Ivan instructed, placing the villager's finger on the trigger and helping him aim. "Hold the gun tightly, and when it's already aimed at your attacker, pull the trigger like this."

"BANG!" The loud noise made the villagers look even more terrified, but Ivan reassured them it was alright. The man's hands shook violently, prompting Ivan to emphasize, "MOST IMPORTANTLY, DO NOT EVER POINT THIS GUN AT ANY FRIENDLIES AND KEEP YOUR FINGER AWAY FROM THE TRIGGER UNLESS YOU ARE AIMING TO DEFEND YOURSELF AND READY TO FIRE."

"Did you get it?!" Ivan asked intensely.

Though still frightened, the man swallowed hard and nodded.

"Alright, start running towards that village! Now!"

Before the villagers resumed their flight, the man turned back to Ivan. "Thank you for saving me earlier, and please be safe, mister. Let's meet again in that village so I can return this magical crossbow to you."

"Crossbow?" Ivan nodded, sharing a moment of mutual resolve. "Same to you, be safe and protect the villagers at all costs."

"Y-yes, I won't be a coward anymore." 

With that, they both dashed off in opposite directions, each set on their own crucial mission.