Dawn arrived shrouded in mist, covering Liang village with a veil of uncertainty. The torches that had burned through the night still cast their last timid flames as the villagers cautiously began to emerge from their homes. Something lingered in the air — an almost palpable sense of unease. Castian, weary from a restless night, sat near the main barricade, gripping his old sword while gazing at the horizon.
The past few days had been tumultuous. Feng's threat loomed over the village like a shadow, and now even the most skeptical among the villagers were beginning to feel the weight of the situation. Castian knew time was running out. He wasn’t the only one sensing what was to come. The village’s guard, composed of simple men with little military training, began to mobilize. Rumors of troops moving in the surrounding forests had reached the elders, and now fear was spreading like wildfire.
"Castian!" called Rohan, one of the young men who had volunteered to help with the watch. He ran toward Castian, breathless. "Come quickly. The guards spotted something in the distance."
Castian rose immediately, his fingers tightening around the sword's hilt. He followed Rohan toward the makeshift tower the villagers had erected at the entrance of the village. When they arrived, a small group of men had already gathered, including some of the guards. All of them were staring intently at the horizon.
"What is it?" Castian asked, trying to see what they were observing.
One of the older guards, Haran, pointed north with his finger. "There. Between the trees. Constant movement."
Castian squinted, trying to make out something through the dissipating mist. For a moment, he saw only the treetops swaying gently in the wind. But then, he saw it too: shadows. Shadows moving in coordination. They were almost imperceptible, but they were there. He had no doubt.
"Troops," Castian whispered, his stomach churning. "They're getting closer."
"They haven’t attacked yet," Haran remarked in his deep voice. "Maybe they’re assessing the situation or waiting for orders. But we can’t ignore this."
A heavy silence fell over the group. Castian looked around, taking in the worried faces of the men and youths from the village. They weren’t soldiers, and the idea of facing an army terrified them. He knew he needed to say something, but his own doubts weighed heavily on his mind. He wasn’t a leader — or, at least, he didn’t think he was. Yet the responsibility seemed to fall on him once again.
"We need to reinforce the watch," he finally said, trying to sound confident. "We don’t know when they’ll attack, but if we’re prepared, we’ll have a better chance of resisting. Let’s organize shifts. No one can let their guard down."
Haran nodded, though his face remained etched with worry. "I agree. We can’t relax. I’ll mobilize the men to strengthen the barricades."
As Haran and the other guards moved to organize preparations, Castian stepped aside, trying to process everything that was happening. He knew this was only the beginning. Feng was testing the village, probing its defenses before launching an attack. The question lingering in his mind was: were they ready for what was coming?
Later, Castian found Rohan and a few other youths from the village at a strategic point near the barricades. They had gathered in silence, each armed with whatever they could: improvised spears, old bows, and rusty swords. They weren’t warriors, but the determination in their eyes was evident.
"Are we really ready for this?" Rohan asked, breaking the silence. He held a rudimentary spear, his hands trembling.
Castian looked at his friend and saw the uncertainty in his face. He understood what Rohan was feeling. After all, he was scared too. But he knew he couldn’t show weakness. Not now.
"No one is ever truly ready for something like this, Rohan," Castian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "But we don’t have a choice. If we don’t fight, no one else will. Feng won’t stop until he gets what he wants."
"Do you think he’ll attack today?" asked another youth, a boy named Liran, who was barely old enough to hold a bow.
Castian hesitated before answering. He looked again at the forest, at the shadows that now seemed even more threatening.
"I don’t know," he admitted. "But we need to be ready, whether it’s today, tomorrow, or a week from now. We can’t let our guard down."
The youths nodded, though fear was still visible on their faces. Castian knew they were doing the best they could, but he also knew that the battle ahead would demand more than just courage. They would need strategy, unity — and perhaps a miracle.
As night fell, the village was cloaked in an even deeper silence. The torches along the barricades cast flickering shadows, and the tension in the air was almost suffocating. Castian stood watch with Rohan and Liran, positioned at an elevated point that gave them a clear view of the surroundings.
The three young men remained silent, alert to any movement. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees was the only noise filling the night, but to Castian, even that sound seemed ominous.
"Castian," Rohan whispered, breaking the silence. "Do you really think we can win? Against Feng and his army?"
Castian took a moment to respond. He looked at Rohan, then at Liran, who was also waiting for his answer. He knew he needed to be honest.
"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice low. "But this isn’t just about winning or losing. It’s about fighting for what matters. For the village, for our families. We can’t just hand everything over to him without a fight. That’s not living, Rohan. That’s giving up."
Rohan slowly nodded, his hands still trembling as he gripped the spear. Castian could see that his friends were scared, but he could also feel a spark of determination growing within them. That was what he needed: for them to believe, even just a little, that they had a chance.
Suddenly, a distant sound interrupted his thoughts. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but enough to put everyone on alert. Castian raised his hand, signaling for silence, as his eyes searched for the source of the noise.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Rohan and Liran nodded, their expressions growing even more tense.
Once again, the sound echoed. It was the sound of footsteps. Many footsteps. Castian felt his heart race. He leaned forward, trying to see better through the darkness.
Then he saw them.
Figures emerging from the shadows of the forest, moving like specters among the trees. They were still far away, but just seeing them made Castian’s blood run cold. They weren’t just men. They were something more.
"They’re coming..." Liran whispered, his voice filled with dread.
Castian tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes fixed on the approaching enemies. He knew that this night would be decisive. Feng had made the first move, and now it was up to Castian and the village to decide how to respond.
"Sound the alarm," he said, his voice firm despite the fear he felt. "They’re here."
Rohan ran to ring the bell that would alert the village, while Castian remained in position, watching the approaching enemies. He knew the battle was about to begin. And though he was afraid, there was one certainty in his heart: he wouldn’t back down. He would fight, no matter the cost.