The ghoul''s nails screeched against Val''s makeshift shield with a sound like iron on slate. They left deep furrows in the wood as he twisted away, bringing his sword down in a tight arc that separated the creature''s head from its shoulders. Black ichor sprayed across his face, acrid and cold. Val had no time to wipe it away before the next ghoul clambered over the barricade, its jaw dislocated and hanging at an obscene angle.


    Three hours since nightfall. Three hours of unrelenting assault.


    "Left!" Aric shouted from somewhere to his right.


    Val pivoted, driving his blade through the eye socket of another attacker. The steel caught on bone, forcing him to plant a boot against the ghoul''s chest and wrench the weapon free. Behind him, he heard the wet thunk of an axe finding its target, followed by Rhea''s grunt of exertion.


    "They''re breaking through on the north side!" A voice cut through the din of combat, tight with panic.


    Val risked a glance across the town square. In the dancing light of torches and burning buildings, he could make out a section of the northern barricade collapsing under the weight of bodies. Rangers and militia scrambled to contain the breach, but more ghouls poured through with each passing second.


    "Val!" Jorin''s voice snapped his attention back to their own precarious position. The captain stood atop an overturned cart, bow in hand, loosing arrows with deadly precision into the mass of undead. "We can''t hold the eastern approach much longer. Be ready to fall back on my signal."


    Val nodded grimly, knowing what that meant. They would abandon the outer ring of defenses, contracting further into the square itself. Each time they did so, they lost ground, lost options, lost hope.


    A militiaman to Val''s left screamed as a ghoul pulled him over the barricade. Val lunged, but he was too slow. The man disappeared beneath a writhing mass of pale limbs and snapping jaws. His screams cut off with sickening abruptness.


    "Damn it," Val screamed, stabbing down at a ghoul that had wedged its upper body through a gap in the barricade. His sword punctured its skull, ending its unnatural existence, but two more immediately scrabbled forward to take its place.


    Val''s muscles burned with fatigue. Even with the boost from his aether, each swing of his sword felt heavier than the last after hours of combat.


    The first probing attacks had come shortly after nightfall, testing their defenses, searching for weaknesses. Val and the others had repelled them easily enough, arrows and spears keeping the undead at bay. But those initial skirmishes had merely been reconnaissance, a way for whatever intelligence guided the horde to assess their strength and position.


    The real assault had begun an hour later, a coordinated attack on all sides that had nearly overwhelmed them in those first chaotic minutes. Only Jorin''s steady command and the discipline of the rangers had prevented an immediate collapse.


    Since then, they had fought a desperate holding action, falling back step by step as their numbers dwindled and their strength waned. The outer palisade had been the first to fall, then the line of houses that formed the first ring around the square. Now they defended the square itself, the heart of Willow Creek, knowing there was nowhere left to retreat.


    "Val!" Aric''s warning came again, more urgent this time.


    Val spun, barely raising his shield in time to block a ghoul that had scaled the barricade behind him. Its weight drove him back a step, the creature''s claws scrabbling for purchase on his armor. Val slammed his pommel into its temple, once, twice, until it went limp and slid to the ground.


    He staggered, momentarily unbalanced, and felt a hand on his shoulder steadying him.


    "You alright?" Rhea asked, her face streaked with blood and grime, a fresh cut marking her cheek.


    "Still standing," Val grunted, rolling his shoulder to ease the cramping muscles. "You?"


    "Been better." She hefted her axe, its edge notched and dark with gore. "Lost sight of Lian. Think he was with Jorin''s group last I checked."


    Val nodded, scanning the chaotic square for familiar faces. He caught glimpses of rangers from both his own company and Alfen''s fifth, fighting in small groups or pairs, covering each other as they had been trained to do. Many of the militia fought alongside them, those with experience mimicking the rangers'' discipline, while the less trained villagers either clustered in the center of the square or had already fallen.


    A horn blasted three short notes, Jorin''s signal to fall back.


    "Move!" Rhea shouted, grabbing Val''s arm. "Eastern barricade''s lost!"


    They retreated in good order, backing away from the barricade even as the ghouls began to pour over it in increasing numbers. Arrows streaked overhead, providing covering fire as the defenders regrouped in the center of the square.


    Val found himself shoulder to shoulder with rangers from the fifth company, faces he recognized but whose names escaped him in the chaos. They formed a tight circle, weapons facing outward, as the undead closed in from all sides.


    "Where''s Jorin?" Val shouted over the din, searching the crowded square.


    "North side," someone answered. "Trying to hold the line with what''s left of the militia."


    Val craned his neck, trying to spot the captain through the press of bodies. A momentary break in the fighting gave him a clear view across the square. What he saw made his blood run cold.


    Three massive figures lurched into view from the northern approach, each standing at least ten feet tall. Their bloated bodies were a patchwork of rotting flesh and exposed bone, arms as thick as tree trunks ending in hands that could crush a man''s skull like an egg. Ogres, once peaceful forest dwellers, now corrupted by necromantic magic into engines of destruction.


    "Ogres!" The cry went up across the square, spreading panic in its wake.


    The first ogre reached the northern barricade and swept its arm across the hastily erected barrier. Wood splintered and bodies flew through the air as the structure collapsed. Militia and rangers scattered before the creature, their weapons seemingly useless against its bulk.


    "We need to support them," Val said, already moving in that direction. "If those things break through—"


    The rest of his sentence was lost as a wave of ghouls surged around the ogre''s legs, pouring through the gap it had created. The defenders at the northern approach fell back in disarray, some cut down as they retreated, others managing to reach the relative safety of the center.


    Jorin appeared atop a pile of debris, bow in hand, sending arrow after arrow into the lead ogre''s face. The missiles stuck in the creature''s rotting flesh like pins in a cushion, doing little to slow its advance.


    "To me!" Jorin''s voice carried across the square. "Defend the villagers!"


    The fountain stood in the exact center of the square, a stone structure that in peaceful times had been the heart of village life. Now it served as the final rallying point, with the wounded and non-combatants huddled around its base.


    Val changed direction, fighting his way toward the fountain alongside Rhea and the rangers from the fifth. They cut through scattered ghouls now infiltrating every corner of the square.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    A familiar figure staggered into view, clutching a bloody spear. Jarek, the youngest member of their company. His face was ashen, a deep gash on his forearm showing bone.


    "Jarek!" Val called, reaching for the young ranger.


    Jarek turned at the sound of his name, relief washing across his features. "Val! They''re coming from everywhere. I lost track of—"


    A ghoul lunged from behind a toppled market stall, tackling Jarek to the ground. Val surged forward, channeling more aether into his muscles despite the warning burn in his core. He reached the struggling pair in two strides, driving his sword through the ghoul''s back with enough force to pin it to the ground and ripped Jarek off the ground and to his feet.


    They continued their fighting retreat, picking up more stragglers as they went; a militia woman with a makeshift flail, a ranger from Alfen''s company whose bow had been snapped in half, a village elder wielding a woodcutting axe with surprising skill. By the time they reached the fountain, they had formed a group of nearly twenty, a patchwork unit of survivors from across the defensive lines.


    The situation at the fountain was grim. The wounded lay in rows around the base of the stone structure, those still conscious watching with wide, terrified eyes as the battle raged around them. Elara and a few of the village women tried to tend to the wounded while rangers and militia formed a protective ring, facing outward toward the advancing undead.


    Jorin stood near the fountain''s edge, issuing rapid orders as he organized the defense. He appeared uninjured, though his quiver was nearly empty and his face was haggard with exhaustion.


    "Val!" The captain shouted. "We have to stop them. I''ll distract those two for as long as I can."


    "I''m with you, captain." Kaelen pushed through the small crowd, one arm hanging limp at his side.


    "I''ll make it count." Val responded and shared a knowing look with the man that had led him for the last five years.


    Jorin extended his hand and clasped Val''s forearm. "The army can''t be far behind. We just need to last."


    A crash drew their attention. The ogre in the lead had reached the square proper, lumbering through the wreckage of the barricade with ghouls swarming around its legs like rats. The creature paused, its misshapen head swiveling as it surveyed the scene before it. Then, with a roar that shook the very stones beneath their feet, it charged directly toward the fountain.


    "Archers!" Jorin shouted, raising his sword and charging. "Aim for the eyes!"


    A volley of arrows streaked toward the ogre, most bouncing harmlessly off its thick hide. One found its mark, sinking deep into the creature''s left eye socket. The ogre staggered but did not fall, reaching up with one massive hand to wrench the arrow free in a spray of black ichor.


    "Spears, form a line!" Jorin continued, his voice steady despite the horror bearing down on them. "Hold until the last possible moment, then break to either side. Let it crash into the fountain!"


    Val turned away from the scene and set his eyes on the single ogre coming from the east. Anger and hopelessness warred in his heart with every beat. He tested his sword grip and set off toward the looming beast, watching as it crushed a villager to slow to get out of the way. Deep, visceral hatred spread through his body and Val felt his core respond to his emotions. Time slowed and his world narrowed to the hulking monstrosity before him.


    <hr>


    Two dozen miles away, deep beneath a tree that stood sentinel over Yelden Valley for thousands of years. Down in a chamber long forgotten by the world above, a orb of pure white light began to glow softly. It sent out a slow, probing pulse in all directions, searching for…


    <hr>


    Toren pulled himself around the corner of the ravaged wagon that had been pulled into the barricade. Damned ghoul had bit his hamstring in half but he would never let Maren catch him hiding from the battle because of a silly flesh wound, stubborn women would never let him live that down. He cleared the barricade and saw Val and a great brute of an ogre on a collision course.


    "Val" Toren called, hobbling to aid the younger ranger.


    He was twenty feet away when Val exploded in a blinding white light.


    <hr>


    He was so angry. His friends were dying across the square from a horde of once neighbors. The brutal reality of it all crashed down on him. He was ten feet from the ogre when he felt his core ripple like a stone thrown into a calm puddle. A warmth spread through him unlike anything he had felt before, raw unfiltered power flooded his body. Val raised his sword and launched himself the last few steps, the ogre moving as if wading through mud.


    His sword pierced the beasts skull to the hilt before it had even raised its arm to defend itself. Val rode the ogres momentum down and ripped his sword free, staring at the downed creature in shock. Slowly, sound returned to his ears as a pack of ghouls moved towards him. His training kicked in and he pivoted, clearing through half a dozen more before turning and sprinting back towards the fountain.


    The world felt like a fever dream as he cut through the horde moving in slow motion. His blade sang a chorus of death, a one man army set upon his foe with terrible prejudice. He reached the central fountain just as one of the remaining ogres crushed Jorin in its hands, having picked him up and slammed him against the stone. Val screamed at the top of his lungs and power exploded out from him. A soft glowing golden aura spread to the defenders. All around him wounded fighters found their wounds closing, energy replenished and hope restored.


    Val reached the back of the ogre as it dropped Jorin''s lifeless body. The rage building inside him reached a crescendo and he hammered hit sword against the monsters beefy neck. It took seven strikes to decapitate it and at some point Val''s sword broke off at the handle and he was just punching it with the cross guard. Black ichor splashed him in the eyes and he felt strong arms pull him away.


    "Val! Val!" he could only faintly hear the voice, adrenaline raging through his body.


    He turned and saw Kaelen trying to pull him off the ogre. He let him and stood, eyes roaming over the scene around him. The defenders were rallying around the fountain, wounds miraculously healed and fatigue lifted. Kaelen clapped him around his neck and pressed his forehead to Val''s. He pressed a sword into Val''s hand before he turned and raised his great axe "To me! To me!" before he charged the approaching horde with Val and Toren on his left and right.


    Val''s sword flashed in the torchlight, each strike devastating his foes. His new blade seemed to know where it needed to be before his mind could process the thought. Beside him, Kaelen''s axe carved deadly arcs through the press of undead flesh while Toren''s spear struck out with fury.


    The square transformed into a killing ground as the defenders rallied behind them. Val felt the strange new power coursing through him, different from his normal aether. It sang in his veins, pure and clean, washing away fatigue and doubt.


    "Push them back!" His voice carried across the square, and the remaining fighters surged forward with renewed vigor. Ghouls fell in droves, their advantage of numbers meaning nothing against the devastating efficiency of the defenders.


    Victory seemed within reach. The mass of undead thinned, revealing glimpses of the street beyond. Dawn wasn''t far off, and they had weathered the worst of the assault.


    The first warning was a chill that cut through the warmth of Val''s newfound power. The air grew thick, heavy with the stench of decay. A wave of darkness rolled across the square, extinguishing torches and snuffing out the flames that had consumed parts of the barricade.


    Val''s stomach lurched as necrotic aether slammed into him like a physical blow. The pure energy flowing through him recoiled, trying to shield itself from corruption. He staggered, catching himself on a broken cart wheel as his vision swam.


    Through the darkness, a figure emerged. Tall and thin, wrapped in robes that seemed to drink in what little light remained. No face was visible beneath its hood, only an absolute darkness that made Val''s eyes water to look at directly.


    The figure raised its hands, and the dead rose again. Bodies Val had personally cut down lurched to their feet, moving with new purpose, new malice. The strange power within him flared in response, but it felt distant now, harder to grasp.


    "Defensive formation!" Val shouted, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. The necrotic aether was everywhere now, corrupting the very air.


    The hooded figure glided forward, and Val forced himself to stand straight, to raise his sword. Whatever this thing was, it had orchestrated the attack. It had killed his friends, his captain. His anger, his core rose with him.


    Val charged, channeling what remained of his mysterious power into one last surge. His blade swept toward the figure''s head, and stopped dead against an invisible barrier. The impact sent shockwaves up his arm. A clash of life and death followed, with Val pushing against the barrier and the hooded figure straining to force him back.


    The hood tilted, regarding him with that bottomless darkness. It redoubled its efforts, robes swaying as power built beneath them. Val felt his strength draining away, the pure energy that had filled him moments ago retreating before this concentrated malevolence.


    "I see you, seed." A raspy voice sounded in Val''s mind, chilling him to the bone.


    A hand emerged from the robes, bone-white and skeletal, reaching for Val''s face. He tried to move, to defend himself, but his limbs felt leaden. The strange power that had made him nearly invincible moments ago guttered like a candle in a storm.


    Heat suddenly washed over him. A wall of flames roared between Val and the figure, so intense he stumbled backward. The necrotic aether recoiled, and Val''s lungs filled with clean air again.


    Battle cries echoed through the square as armored figures poured through the broken barricades. The Fourth Company arrived in a storm of steel, their battle mage launching volley after volley of fire into the undead ranks. Steel flashed in the renewed light as fresh troops engaged what remained of the horde.


    Val searched for the hooded figure through the chaos, but it had vanished, along with the crushing weight of its presence. He sagged against a nearby wall, the last traces of that mysterious power fading from his body, leaving him drained and shaking.


    Chaos gave way to the sounds of organized military efficiency. The Fourth Company''s soldiers moved in practiced formations, systematically eliminating the remaining threats. Val watched through bleary eyes as the sky over the mountains began to lighten, dawn was here and with it, survival.