The demons marched with the confidence of scavengers that smelt a weakened town.
Except they had no idea. This wasn't a town of farmers anymore. This was a fortress. And this valley... was a grave. The moment the front line of goblins stepped into the kill zone, the ground erupted.
BOOM!
A fire rune detonated under their feet, followed by a deafening burst of flashbangs. The demons screeched, disoriented—then the hillside came alive.
"FIRE!!" I shouted into the comms.
Dozens of muzzle flashes lit up the valley walls like strobe lights. Gunfire poured down from all sides. Felix was manning a mounted M249 machine gun, mowing down imps in swathes. The beastkin rangers, lying prone on the ridge, calmly picked off targets with their rifles—each shot enchanted to punch through demon flesh.
Magic flared beside the bullets—Kael stood in the middle of Bravo Squad, summoning walls of stone to funnel the enemy into narrower paths. Above him, dwarven mages dropped fireballs from reinforced spell-cannons crafted last week.
"Squad Echo, suppress the right flank! Don't let those damn crawlers get into the trees!" I barked.
Shadow beasts tried flanking but were caught by the claymores I planted earlier. They exploded into black mist. Elvie swooped down from her aerial perch, riding a windboard, casting a barrage of air blades that sliced demon wings mid-flight.
"My lord, some are breaching the west side!" Kael shouted.
"Hold position. Deploy the walkers."
From the back, two dwarf-engineered mana walkers stomped into view—Humvee-sized golems reinforced with Earth's steel and runic plates, armed with rotary cannons and shockwave emitters.
The twin golems opened fire with heavy machine turrets, tearing through the larger ogres that had managed to enter the shallow pass. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell. Cries echoed off the canyon walls. I leapt from the ridge and landed in the middle of the rear wave of goblins. "Let's dance."
One swung a rusted axe. I sidestepped, jammed a dagger into its neck, and drew my pistol. Headshot.
Another down.
I reached behind me and pulled out my Earth-modified taser blade. With each slash, the blade discharged a high-voltage shock, frying monsters on impact.
An imp lunged.
Felix was suddenly beside me.
BOOM.
Point-blank shotgun blast.
"Nice of you to drop in," he grinned, blood on his cheek.
"I was missing all the fun," I replied and then took my small sword with me; it beamed with purple magic as I cut dozens of goblins.
After twenty more minutes of carnage, their morale shattered. The demons fled. Screeching, limping, burning. Some disappeared into the forest, some dove into holes, and some just ran blindly—never expecting this kind of resistance. I watched them run with narrowed eyes.
"Do we pursue?" Kael asked.
I checked my guardian screen.
[Enemy Formation: Broken. Estimated Kill Count: 883. Fleeing Units: 42]
[Status: Victory Achieved.]
"No," I replied. "Let them run. Let them tell their masters what happened when they tried to touch Robinson Town."
Back at the campfire, under the stars, the squads gathered for coffee, candies, cups of noodles, mamons, and grilled hotdogs and chorizo—warrior tradition now.
Raymond, sleeves rolled, passed out hot food. Felix tossed a bloodied helmet onto the fire like a trophy.
Kael sat, bruised but grinning. "I'm starting to like these Northern tactics."
"They work," I said, sipping my coffee. "And we'll need more of them. That was just the scouting force."
Elvie nodded solemnly. "The real army will come next."
"I know," I said, staring into the flames. "That's why tomorrow, we train twice as hard. Because next time, we're not defending—we're taking the fight to them."
As the last of the smoke cleared and the scent of burnt flesh drifted across the valley, I stood atop a rise—drenched in sweat, blood on my boots, heart hammering from adrenaline. Around me, cheers erupted from the squads. The beastkin howled in triumph. The dwarves banged their armoured chests. Even Kael allowed himself a rare smile as he wiped demon ichor from his blade.
I grinned, unable to help myself.
I've been dreaming of this moment. Back on Earth, I used to pull all-nighters raiding dungeons and strategising PvP battles with guildmates from all over the world. No sleep. Junk food. Just the hum of a computer and the thrill of outsmarting opponents online. Back then, it was just fantasy. Now? Now I stood in a real valley, leading real troops, commanding real lives—and winning a real war.
I would never have thought that I could play like a big boss in a war. All those hours, all those simulations, all the tactics I'd learnt from gaming? They weren't useless. They trained me for this. For reading terrain, baiting the enemy, managing resources, and timing attacks. This world didn't know it, but I was forged in lag and pixels. And now? I was a warlord backed by steel, spells, and satellite-grade recon.
Felix clapped me on the back. "Damn, my lord. You didn't just hold the line. You crushed them."
I smirked. "Let's just say... my inner gamer is thriving."
Raymond passed me a mug of steaming coffee. "If this is how you fight, I fear for anyone who comes next."
I took a sip, watching the horizon where the last demons fled. "They will come back," Elvie said, landing beside us, eyes still sharp. "In greater numbers."
"I know," I said, setting the mug down and opening my Guardian Screen.
My finger hovered over the tactical planner—already sketching new positions, fallback zones, and rally points. "But next time," I muttered with a smile, "I'll be even more prepared."
It had been nearly three weeks since the ambush at the valley. The ground still bore scars from the explosion craters and scorch marks from mana bursts, but the demon armies had fully retreated—not just from our borders, but from the neighbouring dwarfin lands as well.
Their withdrawal wasn't out of fear... No, demons didn't fear easily. It was a strategy. They were regrouping. That much was obvious.
Still, in the lull that followed, our town found something we hadn't tasted in a while:
Peace.
Temporary, maybe. But peace nonetheless.
Three weeks passed in a blink. The roads to Robinson's Territory were lively again. From the watchtower scaffold where I often stood these days, I could see caravans making their way down the gently paved slope leading to the central plaza—banners of various merchant guilds fluttering from waggons.
Miss Agnes had already registered six new merchant families in the last week, including a silk trader from the Eastern Reaches and a travelling spice peddler with a half-elf apprentice. Elvie kept a close eye on everyone, making sure the wardstones at the border pulsed steady and undisturbed.
Even so, we weren't naive.
Kael reminded me daily: "Peace is the time to sharpen your sword—not rest."
He wasn't wrong.
Felix had organised weekly patrol rotations, including aerial sweeps using hawks trained by beastkin scouts. I had commissioned new mana detectors and reinforced the barrier runes along the western ridge. With demon spies still unaccounted for, we weren't taking chances.
But the people... The people were beginning to breathe easier again.
Children laughed around the cotton candy stand in the plaza. Nobles sat outside cafés, sipping spiced tea imported from the Riverlands while wearing coats stitched in our local textile shop. I even saw a young dwarf merchant striking a deal with a beastkin chef over sacks of flour and meat for bulk chorizo production.
The new Dirk Market Hall—a big open structure built with darkwood beams and enchanted lanterns—was finally open. There, I watched as travellers wandered through stalls of plastic ware, spices, novelty snacks, magic lanterns, and Earth-inspired cookware. Ella had just introduced soft ice cream.
Karl, ever the showman, ran a makeshift auction for rare mana herbs we grew in the greenhouse. The audience? A mix of elves, dwarves, and even a few Highlanders.
Despite the looming threat, life blossomed in Robinson Town.
That evening, I sat on a bench in the garden beside the Divine Tree statues—both glowing faintly under the moonlight. Flare snored lightly near the hearth, curled in his dragon form, wings tucked over like a massive house cat.
Elvie joined me with two cups of instant coffee.
"Still watching the road?" she asked, handing me one.
"Always," I replied. "But for now, it feels good... this rhythm."
She leaned back. "They call it hope, Dirk. And you gave it to them."
I looked around at the warm glow of lanterns, the laughter, and the scent of grilled meats and fresh bread wafting from the homes. "I'm not sure if I'm building a fortress or a future," I admitted.
"Why not both?" she smiled.
I took a sip of coffee and smiled too. We would be ready for war. But until then... We would live.