The small town of Eldham, nestled in the shadow of the bustling city of Tarthale, was a picture of tranquility. It was on the far edge of the kingdom of Asphade, almsot as though it wasn’t a part of the kingdom.
Merchants peddled their wares in the marketplace, farmers brought fresh produce to sell, and children darted through the cobblestone streets, their laughter a melody that blended with the hum of daily life.
The bell tower chimed, its sonorous tones signaling midday. This was the busiest hour of the market, as villagers bartered and merchants called out their deals.
A baker, dusted with flour, handed a fresh loaf to a smiling customer, while a blacksmith hammered away at a glowing piece of metal, sparks dancing with every strike.
Eldham was more than a town; it was a close-knit community. The people knew one another, sharing joys and sorrows alike. No one anticipated the terror that was about to unfold.
…Woooong~
A distant rumble broke the routine of the marketplace. Heads turned eastward, where a dark plume of smoke rose into the sky. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
“What’s that?” a farmer asked, shielding his eyes to peer into the distance.
“Could be a fire at the outlying farms,” a merchant speculated, his voice tinged with worry.
“Uhm… I don’t think so. No one’s dumb enough to start fire in the farm. Now even the enemies.” One of the farmer replied, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Then, do you have any idea what it is?” The merchant asked with a frown that made the farmer uncomfortable.
The farmer paused for a moment, thinking of what to say in response but in the end, he couldn’t find an answer. “No, I don’t know what it is.”
Moments later, a deafening crash echoed through the town.
Bang!
The eastern gate shook violently, its sturdy wood splintering under immense pressure. The marketplace fell silent, fear seizing the hearts of the townsfolk.
“Ahhhhh!”
The first scream pierced the air, followed by a cacophony of terrified cries as people fled toward the square.
A group of farmers, faces pale with terror, ran into the market, their panicked shouts drowning out the bell’s frantic tolling.
“Demons!” one screamed, his voice cracking. “They’re here!”
The eastern gate exploded inward, shards of wood raining down like shrapnel. Standing in the wreckage was a hulking Grade Four demon, its towering form framed by the smoke and flames of destruction.
Its blackened scales shimmered with an unnatural glow, and its yellow eyes glinted with predatory malice.
Behind it swarmed a horde of demons, their grotesque forms varying in size and shape. Most were Grade Seven or Six, their twisted bodies a nightmarish blend of humanoid and beast.
Captain Reinar, Eldham’s Gold Ranked defender, arrived at the scene with a squad of guards. His golden armor shone like a beacon of hope as he drew his enchanted sword, the blade humming faintly with imbued magic.
“Hold the line!” he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
The guards formed a defensive wall, shields raised and spears pointed at the advancing horde.
Bang!!
The first collision took place, demons and guards falling in their numbers.
Swisssh…
Swaashh!!
Reinar surged forward, his sword slashing through the first wave of demons with ease. His strikes were precise, cutting down the lesser demons in droves.
But then, another Grade Four demon emerged, followed by yet another. Reinar’s confidence faltered as he realized the sheer magnitude of the threat.
The demons poured into Eldham, their numbers overwhelming the defenders. The eastern quarter of the town fell swiftly, homes consumed by flames as the demons set fire to everything in their path.
In the marketplace, the once-bustling stalls were reduced to rubble. Vendors abandoned their goods, fleeing for their lives as the demons advanced.
“Mummy!”
“Father, where are you?!”
Children cried for their parents, their voices lost amidst the roar of flames and the guttural growls of the invaders.
A brave group of townsfolk armed themselves with whatever they could find—pitchforks, knives, even cooking pots. They formed a desperate line in the square, determined to protect their families.
Captain Reinar continued to fight valiantly, his blade cutting down another Grade Four demon. But the effort left him vulnerable, and a third demon struck him with a devastating blow.
Boooom!
Reinar was hurled across the square, his golden armor dented as he hit the ground. Blood trickled from his lips as he struggled to rise.
“Fall back!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “Retreat to Tarthale!”
The guards helped Reinar to his feet, forming a protective circle around him as they retreated. Their faces were pale, their movements slowed by exhaustion and injuries.
In the square, the townsfolk fought with desperate courage, but they were no match for the demons. One by one, they fell, their makeshift weapons clattering to the bloodstained cobblestones.
A young mother, clutching her child, tried to flee toward the city gates. A Grade Six demon blocked her path, its gnarled claws reaching for her. She screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos.
A farmer wielding a scythe intervened, slashing at the demon with all his strength. His efforts bought her a moment to escape, but he paid with his life, the demon’s claws tearing into his chest.
Thwaaack!!
Within an hour, Eldham was a smoldering ruin. The once-vibrant town was reduced to rubble, its streets littered with the bodies of its people. Smoke darkened the sky, the acrid stench of burning wood and flesh choking the air.
The surviving guards and townsfolk fled toward Tarthale, their eyes filled with tears and their hearts heavy with loss. The gates of the city loomed far ahead, a sanctuary in the wake of devastation.
As the refugees reached the gates, they were met by the city’s guards.
“State your business!” One of the guards demanded with a cold gaze scanning through the dozens of people standing in front of the gate.
“The demons! They destroyed Eldham!”
Hearing this, the gates were opened for them all to seek shelter and after that, the gates were shut quickly, the defenses reinforced as word spread of Eldham’s fall.
Back in the ruins, the demons gathered in the town square. The Grade Four demons roared in triumph, their voices echoing across the desolate landscape.
The lesser demons feasted on the remains of the fallen, their grotesque forms silhouetted against the glow of the fires.
Above them, the smoke spiraled higher, a dark plume that marked the end of Eldham and a warning to the Kingdom of Asphade: the demons were starting to move.