The new defences around the village of Brindlecross were coming together; teams of men and women had dug a trench all the way around the palisade walls, and it was being lined with sharp spikes to slow attackers. Hundreds of ankle-to-knee deep holes had been dug and were in the process of being filled with sharpened sticks before being covered to hide them.

  At the village well, Garrick—his son slain in the goblin raid—spoke in low, venomous tones. “You think the cursed devil is saving us?” He spat in the dirt. “Look harder. Wasn’t it his meddling that brought the goblins here? Talking of shamans, talismans, and dark magic. You don’t see? He’s cursed by the old gods; he’s calling goblins here to kill us all!”

  An old woman, clutching her shawl, stepped forward in William’s defence. “He fought for us. He saved my grandson. I’ll hear none of your twisted lies.”

  “My boy fought too!” Garrick’s voice cracked. “Where is he now? Ash on the ground, that’s where. And this knight.” He spat again, his fury mounting. “Walks without a scratch upon his skin, does that not seem strange to you? He appeared out of nowhere, now he flashes cursed bones and dark words to scare ye into following his bidding.”

  “You’re a lying fool, Garrick!” A young woman shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “The goblins attacked before the knight ever warned us about the shamans.”

  “He’s a cursed devil!” Garrick yelled back. “Mark my words, he’ll be the death of all of us. Don’t come crying to me when your child’s throat is slit, lying cold in the mud.”

  A few villagers nodded, their faces tight with worry. Others avoided Garrick’s gaze as William passed by. Gratitude was beginning to sour, morphing into something far darker.

  Day Five: The Dragon Wars

  As William oversaw more trench-digging beyond the walls, his sight faltered. The world glitched; colours faded, and a low hum like stone grinding against glass filled his mind.

  Letters seared into the air, all jagged and wrong.

  [Questline Triggered: The Dragon Wars]

  [Warning: Multiple world-scale conflicts imminent]

  [Estimated time until outbreak: ??:??:??]

  The words lingered before shattering into sparks.

  William had dropped to one knee and held his head. What the hell was that?

  “Will? You alright?” Fredric’s voice cut through the notification. “You look pale… and your nose is bleeding.”

  William forced himself to stand, his hand tightening around the spade. “Just tired, Fred.” He wiped away the blood trickling from his nose, the red streak contrasting against the dirt on his skin. “We keep digging.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  But a cold weight settled in his stomach. The Dragon Wars. He remembered them, server-wide events that had destroyed entire continents, legendary loot hunts, alliances formed and shattered in the blink of an eye, players betraying one another across multiple worlds. It felt like a distant nightmare, one that should have remained buried in memory, not now.

  He checked his broken interface, but found no mention of the quest or any other new changes. Will’s hands shook as he drove his spade into the soil. The Dragon Wars shouldn’t be for years.

  ***

  Fredric’s father approached William as he rested, while watching weapons training.

  “Sir Knight,” Fredric’s father started. “Erm. I erm… Th-this was a mistake.” He bowed and turned to leave.

  Will sighed. “I’m not going to bite, you know.” He guessed Fredric’s father was worried about his son. “I’ll do my best to protect the boy. He’s a good kid, and I think with training he could become something more.”

  Fredric’s father hesitated, then turned back. “He is a good lad. Hard worker in the fields, always there for his ma and the young’uns.”

  William frowned. He hadn’t thought to ask about Fredric’s family. “How many brothers and sisters does he have?”

  The farmer nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Five, m’lord. Three sisters and two little lads. All younger than our Fred.”

  Will let out a low whistle. “That’s a full house. Must be a handful, keeping a farm running on top of that,” he guessed.

  “Aye, m’lord. But we cope fine. As long as we get the seed planted before winter sets in.” He cast a glance towards the fields beyond the palisade, now half-ruined and torn up to protect the village. “Might be a bad next harvest.”

  They stood together in silence for a moment, the distant clatter of swords echoing through the training area. They spoke a little longer of crops, of family, of small things before parting ways.

  ***

  That night, William lay in his borrowed bed, recalling the events of The Dragon Wars. “If that happens now. This land is doomed.” It wasn’t until the third expansion that the dragons became a problem. The players and the NPCs had time to level and build alliances before the dragons attacked.

  Day Six: The Scout

  After another full day of preparations and training, mist swallowed the northern palisade that night. William and Fredric walked the outer perimeter, examining the new trenches filled with sharpened spikes that looked like broken teeth jutting from the mud.

  “What was that?” Fredric whispered, pointing his spear towards the darkness.

  From the trees came a hissed chant and a soft green glow through the mist.

  Will and Fredric approached with caution. Fred carried a spear as his first line of defence. At the edge of the forest, they found a lone goblin. The creature’s yellow eyes glowed with unnatural focus as green motes of light circled its lips as it chanted. Around its neck, a bone talisman pulsed.

  William whispered to Fredric, “On three, we both throw our spears. Okay?” He pulled a spear from his storage as the boy nodded. “One… two… three.”

  They each tossed a spear at the chanting goblin. The creature shrieked and collapsed in the brush with a single spear through its chest. The talisman’s faint light spluttered out as the creature drew its last breath.

  William patted his squire on the shoulder. “Good shot, Fred.” His own spear had gone wide.

  Fredric crouched, trembling. “That was a scout?”

  William ripped the charm from the goblin’s neck; its surface felt warm in his palm. “Yes.” He held the talisman up to get a closer look. “They’ll attack soon.”

  CAN A HEALER SURVIVE THE APOCALYPSE... ALONE?

  ?

  Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Psychological Progression

  The system took everyone from Earth. Except for Matt.

  Earth's integration into the system has started, plunging it into a multiverse where conflict is law. To prepare, humanity was sent to distant planets to participate in a 'tutorial'. All except one.

  Rejected and abandoned on a new Earth where mana has turned beasts into monsters, Matt must find a way out of the harsh Egyptian desert, all while being a class that has long been deemed redundant: Healer.

  A mysterious interim leader, a strange dungeon placed in the middle of nowhere, and a class ridiculed by everyone. Will Matt be able to overcome these difficulties and reunite with his friends, or will the hardships of the system break him first?

  Alone, under-equipped, and written off, he will either reinvent the rules of the system... or become Earth's first casualty.

  * A Tale of Survival & Revenge *

  Chapter 021 [Day Seven: The Dawn of Unease]