Garret stood protectively in front of the fallen villager, arms raised to shield her from the threat before him. Around him, a sea of enemies—60 Iron Fang Raider minions—circled like wolves. Behind them, towering and grinning, stood the twin monsters themselves: Ruck and Dorn.
Garret's eyes scanned the area. "Sixty enemies. Then them. This isn't a fight. It's a slaughter waiting to happen. But I can't back down. Not here. Not now."
Ruck laughed, pointing his cleaver-axe toward Garret. "Hey, tavern-keeper! Where's Damien Cross, huh? Not here to play hero today? Maybe we burn this place down and draw him out!"
Garret stood his ground. "I don't know where Damien is. But this village has done nothing to deserve this. Please... leave us be."
Ruck burst into laughter, eyes wild. "Oh, you really think begging works? Village broke our rules. You don't pay—you pay. In fire and blood."
Dorn's low voice cut through. "Boss wants a lesson taught. We're here to deliver."
Garret took a deep breath. "They're not listening. Words are wasted. This will only end in battle."
"So be it," Garret muttered. "If I fall here, I fall protecting what matters."
Dorn raised a hand. "Minions. Destroy everything."
The raiders roared and charged.
Garret braced himself.
The first wave hit hard. A sword slashed toward him—Garret dodged, grabbed the attacker by the wrist, twisted, and slammed him into the ground. Another lunged; Garret ducked and elbowed him in the ribs, finishing with a sharp knee to the temple.
He grabbed a bandit's sword and spun, cleaving through two more with precise, brutal strikes. Another came from behind—Garret reversed his grip and drove the hilt into the man's gut, then roundhouse-kicked another into a crate.
"You think I'm just some barkeep?" he growled. "I've seen more war than you've seen winters!"
Ten raiders fell.
More came.
Five flanked him from both sides, blades gleaming. Garret ducked low, rolled forward, and came up with a furious strike that slashed across two chests. He pivoted, slamming the flat of the blade against another's face.
One leapt at him from behind—Garret backhanded him with the sword's guard, turned, and swept the legs of another attacker.
A massive raider swung a hammer down toward his back—Garret rolled aside, slashed through the bandit's thigh, and drove the sword into the man's chest.
"Ten more down..."
"But this blade... it's weakening."
He lifted the weapon for another strike—but it cracked in his hands.
The blade shattered.
Garret stared at the broken steel. "Too much strain. I need Cleaverfang... my real weapon. But it's still under the floorboards..."
Then he heard laughter.
Ruck clapped his hands. "Not bad! For an old man!"
Dorn nodded once. "Strong. Still standing."
Garret took a step back, breathing hard.
"Brother," Ruck said. "Let's handle him personally."
Dorn nodded.
Ruck unsheathed Bonehowler, a spiked cleaver-axe coated in old rust and dried blood. Dorn brought out The Anvilbreaker, his war maul forged from a fallen fortress's stone.
Garret muttered, "Ruck and Dorn. 'The Fang' and 'The Maul.' Bloodbound by chain. Monsters on the battlefield."
The chain linking their backs rattled with each step. They approached in sync, weapons ready.
"Time to die, tavern man," Ruck sneered.
Garret clenched his fists. "Not without a fight."
Ruck dashed forward, faster than his size should allow. Garret jumped back, narrowly avoiding Bonehowler's vicious swing.
Dorn followed, his maul coming down like a falling meteor. Garret sidestepped, the impact cracking the stone road where he stood moments before.
The three clashed.
For 12 minutes they exchanged blows—Garret dodging, weaving, countering. Every swing from the twins could kill a normal man. Garret grunted with effort, sweat flying.
Ruck tried a hook kick—Garret ducked and elbowed him in the ribs.
Dorn grabbed Garret's shoulder—Garret twisted, landing a punch to Dorn's jaw. Dorn didn't flinch.
They pushed him back slowly. The chain between them allowed unpredictable movement. One would strike low, the other high. Garret could only react.
He tried to sweep Ruck's legs—Dorn yanked the chain, spinning Ruck away just in time, and returned with a counterstrike.
Garret caught the maul with crossed arms.
"Bonehowler Cleave!"
"Anvil Smash!"
Both weapons came crashing down.
Garret crossed his arms again, but it was too much.
The impact exploded against his block.
He was launched through the air.
Wood splintered as he crashed through the tavern wall. Plaster exploded. Crates shattered. He tumbled into the storeroom, smashing through shelves and barrels.
Garret groaned, coughing blood. His arms trembled. "Damn it... they're stronger than I thought. But I'm not dead. Not yet."
"GARRET!" Mira screamed.
"FATHER!!!" Lila cried.
Leo ran to him. "D-Dad?!"
Garret coughed. "Stay back... I'm fine..."
Back in the forest, Damien paused mid-flame burst. He froze.
An explosion echoed in the distance.
His eyes widened.
"That came from the village... No... it's happening! Just like Ignis warned me!"
He turned, eyes glowing, steam hissing from his skin.
"Let's go."
He vanished in a trail of flame.
Back in the tavern, Mira and Lila knelt beside Garret. Leo held his hand.
Then—
"Well, well, well... what do we have here?"
The family turned to see Ruck and Dorn enter through the destroyed wall.
Garret planted his feet in front of his family.
"Stay behind me."
Leo stepped forward. "I want to fight too!"
"No," Garret snapped. "You'll get hurt."
"But I can help!"
Mira's voice cracked. "Leo, listen to him!"
Leo nodded reluctantly.
Ruck laughed. "Kid's got guts."
Dorn smirked. "Potential."
Garret's eyes flared. "Don't lay a finger on my son."
Ruck charged. "BERSERKER CRASH!"
He rammed his head into Garret's chest.
Garret flew again, crashing through the storeroom shelves. Glass shattered, barrels exploded. He hit the back wall hard and collapsed.
"FATHER!!!" Lila screamed.
Leo's tears fell. He clenched his fists and ran at Ruck, punching and kicking.
"Leave him alone!"
Ruck laughed. "Oh? You wanna play tough guy?!"
Leo bit his leg. Ruck roared.
"You little—!"
He slapped Leo hard, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him.
"Let's teach you a lesson."
Mira and Lila screamed.
Ruck raised Leo.
"You die now!"
Then—
"TAVERN SLAM!!!"
A shadow smashed into Ruck, shoulder-first.
Ruck and Dorn flew through the tavern wall again, rolling outside.
Leo landed in strong arms.
He looked up.
"F-Father...?"
Garret smiled. "You okay, Leo?"
Leo sobbed. "Y-Yeah..."
Mira and Lila ran over. "Are you alright?!"
Garret nodded. "Yeah. I'm not done yet."
Outside, Ruck and Dorn stood up, laughing.
"That was a good hit," Ruck admitted.
Garret limped into the storeroom. He pulled open a floorboard.
Beneath: a massive cleaver blade. Etched with old battle marks.
"Cleaverfang... my old friend."
Leo's eyes widened. "What is that?!"
Garret lifted it with both hands.
"This blade's been with me since the Eastern Campaign. The Troll Wars. The Black March. I've taken down beasts, brigands, and barons with it. It's dulled, nicked, worn—but still sharp where it counts."
He stepped outside.
Ruck raised a brow. "Who are you really, old man?"
Dorn narrowed his eyes. "That blade..."
Garret stood tall.
"I'm 'Stoneback' Garret Barrelwright. Retired adventurer. Protector of this village. And this—" he raised Cleaverfang, "—is the end of your rampage."
He stabbed the cleaver into the ground.
"Now let's get serious."
Ruck chuckled with cruel delight as he stood beside his silent brother. His grin stretched wide as his eyes locked on Garret.
"So it's true," Ruck sneered. "The tales of the famous Stoneback—Garret Barrelwright, the Vanguard, the Shield Brawler himself. Never thought I'd see the day."
Dorn finally spoke, his gravelly voice low. "Heard the stories. Old warrior with a back like a mountain. Said no blade ever broke your guard."
Garret smirked, raising Cleaverfang onto his shoulder. "Aye, those stories were true once. I was a different man back then. But I gave it all up for a quiet life. Family. Peace. Guess that dream was too much to ask for."
Ruck laughed. "Then I guess we did you a favor, dragging you out of retirement!"
Dorn nodded slowly. "We ruined your peace."
Garret's eyes hardened. "Enough talk. Let's fight."
Ruck's muscles tensed, eyes lighting up with bloodlust. "Finally. Time to get serious."
Dorn gave a single nod.
Garret launched forward, Cleaverfang swinging with brutal force. Ruck and Dorn dashed in to meet him, the bloodbound chain between them clinking as they moved in perfect rhythm.
The clash was explosive.
Garret's cleaver clanged against Bonehowler, sparks flying. Dorn swung Anvilbreaker downward with tremendous force, forcing Garret to leap back, his boots skidding on the dirt.
Ruck came in again from the left, Cleaverfang met him mid-swing. The impact made both of them stagger.
"They're faster than I remember... they've gotten stronger. But I'm not going to break here."
Dorn lunged next, his war maul tearing through the air. Garret ducked, barely avoiding the crushing weight, and rolled beneath the attack, kicking Dorn behind the knee to make him stumble.
"Nice try, old man," Ruck growled.
He jumped in, swinging low. Garret blocked with the flat of Cleaverfang, the steel groaning with the strain. He countered with a horizontal slash, forcing Ruck back.
"Their rhythm is seamless. That chain gives them perfect awareness of each other's movements... I've got to break their formation somehow."
Ruck laughed while backing up. "Still got some fire in those bones! I like that."
Garret was panting now. Sweat poured down his forehead. His grip on Cleaverfang trembled slightly.
Dorn lunged again, hammer spinning. Garret stepped aside and drove his elbow into Dorn's ribs, following with a knee to the gut. Dorn grunted but barely reacted.
"Damn it... they don't even flinch."
Ruck circled behind and Garret turned in time to block another swing. But the force sent him staggering back three paces.
"You slowing down already?" Ruck taunted. "Your legend's starting to feel a bit exaggerated."
Garret spat blood to the side. "Legends don't retire, kid. They evolve."
Dorn swung overhead—Garret raised Cleaverfang and blocked it, feet digging trenches into the dirt.
They were relentless. Every moment was a test. Every second was survival.
Fifteen minutes into the fight, Garret's breath was ragged. His arms were sore. His knees wobbled slightly.
"You're not a fighter anymore, Stoneback," Ruck grinned. "You're just a barkeep swinging a rusty blade."
"I know... but I can't let them through me. Not to my family. Not while I'm still breathing."
Garret roared, spinning Cleaverfang in a full circle, catching both brothers by surprise. The massive blade cracked against Ruck's cleaver, and he was forced back. Dorn swung—but Garret ducked and countered with a sweeping slash that knocked the maul from his hands.
Dorn didn't react. He simply reached down and grabbed it again with one arm, unfazed.
Garret grunted. "How do you stop two giants who don't bleed...?"
"One last stand, old man?" Ruck said.
Garret snarled. "I'll stand until my last breath!"
"Then let's finish this," Ruck growled. "So we can burn your village down."
That did it.
Garret's eyes burned.
"You're not touching my home. You're not touching my family."
All three fighters readied themselves. Ruck and Dorn stepped in unison, their weapons raised high.
Garret braced, Cleaverfang glowing faintly in the sunlight.
"Last Guard Reversal!" he shouted.
"TWIN CYCLONE SMASH!" the twins roared.
They collided.
Dust exploded from the impact. The force shattered crates, cracked stones, and sent shockwaves through the street.
The three warriors strained—Garret gritting his teeth, muscles bulging as he tried to hold back the twin titans.
"I can't hold them... I'm slipping... my arms... they're giving out—"
He saw Lila's face in his mind. Mira laughing in the kitchen. Leo running through the tavern shouting about fire magic.
"No... no, not yet!"
Garret gave one final roar and pushed—but the twins responded in kind.
Their weapons found their mark.
Cleaverfang was wrenched from Garret's hands as Bonehowler and Anvilbreaker slammed into his gut.
He was thrown like a ragdoll, crashing through fences, rolling across the ground.
He hit a wall—hard.
Pain lit his body aflame. Blood spilled from his mouth. Bones cracked.
"No... I failed them... I wasn't enough..."
He lifted his head weakly.
The twins approached.
Ruck laughed, voice full of mockery. "That was a fun one! You gave us a workout."
Dorn nodded once. "End him."
Ruck held up a hand. "No... let the minions do it. Let's enjoy the show."
Their army began to close in.
Garret could barely move. "This is it... but at least I bought time. I'm sorry, Mira... Lila... Leo..."
The minions raised their weapons.
"Ready to gut the old lion?" one sneered.
"Heh... do it already," Garret whispered. "End it."
Five of them raised their swords high—
"FIREBALL!!!"
A searing orb of fire exploded among the minions.
The blast scattered them like ragdolls, smoke rising in the aftermath.
A figure walked through the smoke.
Flames licked his boots. His red-gold eyes burned.
Damien Cross.
Garret blinked through the haze. "...Damien?"
Damien glanced down at him. "Yeah. Sorry I'm late."
Garret coughed a chuckle. "Don't be... just glad you're here."
Footsteps echoed.
Ruck and Dorn stepped forward.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Dorn demanded.
Damien raised his head, fire swirling around him.
"I'm Damien Cross."
He cracked his knuckles.
"And I'm your worst nightmare."
To be continued...