Chapter 320 - 033: Like a real hero!

Chapter 320: 033: Like a real hero!

In the cellar, the dim candlelight flickered, casting shadows on the pale faces of the middle-aged couple.

The man tightly gripped the wooden stick in his hand, his knuckles white from exertion, his eyes fixed firmly on the entrance to the cellar as though a beast might charge in at any moment.

His wife huddled in a corner, clutching their two children tightly in her arms, her lips trembling slightly, her eyes full of terror.

“Daddy, what’s… what’s going on outside?” the young girl asked with a quivering voice, tears lacing her tone.

The man did not answer. He simply tightened his hold on the wooden stick, his gaze still fixed unwaveringly on the cellar entrance. His ears pricked high, trying to catch any sound from outside. Yet, there was nothing—just silence.

A peculiar expression flashed across the man’s tense face.

The cellar’s soundproofing was indeed good, but it shouldn’t be this silent—not completely devoid of noise, especially considering the Beast Tide should be rampaging through the city streets by now, wreaking havoc.

Could it be…

Suddenly, a possibility crept into the man’s mind—

Could it be that the Beast Tide hasn’t breached the city?

Could it be…

Those new recruits really held their ground?

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the man quickly shook his head, rejecting it.

No, no, no! That’s impossible.

He had fought against the Beast Tide before—he had seen it firsthand. It was truly terrifying, like a monstrous tsunami crashing down, devouring everything.

In the past, it always required recruitment of tens of thousands under the leadership of Nobles and Knights to fend off the Beast Tide. Even then, there were casualties every year.

A squad of merely 500, comprised mostly of untrained rookies—people signed up just to survive and get a meal—this kind of force would likely have dropped their weapons and fled at the first sight of the Beast Tide’s wrath. How could they possibly defend the city?

Yes, that must be it.

Hearing nothing outside was likely just because the beasts were still rampaging elsewhere, not yet reaching his tailor shop—or maybe the beasts were still in the other districts and hadn’t made it this far—or it could just be the cellar’s soundproofing…

But…

What if?

Despite having countless reasons to convince himself otherwise, when the thought of “What if” surfaced, the man couldn’t help but hope—what if those soldiers really had held the Beast Tide at bay? What if those warriors were out there, fighting valiantly?

What if…

They hadn’t abandoned their weapons, but were fighting with everything they had to protect the city?

“I’ll go check!”

Finally,

The man couldn’t hold back any longer. Ignoring his wife’s protests, he approached the cellar entrance, listened carefully for a moment, and cautiously opened a small crack to peer outside.

After confirming that there were no beasts in his shop, the man took a deep breath and mustered his courage to push open the cellar door, stepping outside.

And immediately, the scene outside unraveled before his eyes…

…

Meanwhile, on the ramparts.

“Fire arrows! Fire arrows!”

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Demont’s thunderous commands echoed atop the ramparts as arrows rained down, piercing into the Beast Tide below, while logs and stones tumbled down the walls, crushing the beasts desperately trying to climb up.

The soldiers wielding the Cross Sword intercepted the stragglers that managed to breach the defenses, flashes of steel illuminating the night as blood sprayed relentlessly.

“Slash!”

Hasrant swung his sword and cleaved through a wolf’s neck, fresh blood bursting out like a ruptured pipe, drenching him completely and rendering his vision a crimson haze.

He wiped the blood off his face casually and instantly plunged back into another fierce battle, swinging his Cross Sword with unyielding resolve.

As a commoner, Hasrant had never imagined he could be so brave.

He had joined the newly formed City Defense Army purely out of desperation, to scrape by and have something to eat. Never had he expected to risk his life for this city, let alone fight so fiercely. After all, heroism and glory were the privileges of Nobles—not something common folk like him could aspire to.

Without the Nobles to guide them, commoners didn’t know how to fight enemies or defend the walls. How could they possibly hold the city’s defenses by themselves?

Hasrant had thought about running—especially at the moment the Beast Tide surged forward. He had fully prepared to drop his weapon and flee. Yet somehow, amid the chaos, he found himself charging into battle against the beasts.

And strangely…

It didn’t feel quite so terrible?

In the heat of the slaughter, the overwhelming bloodshed seemed to ignite a surge of adrenaline. Hasrant’s body was alive with energy; every cell brimming with the primal instinct to fight, propelling him into the fray.

Lost in the bloodbath, Hasrant couldn’t help but recall distant childhood memories when he used to dream.

Back then, during the dreamy years of youth, he had imagined a day when his homeland faced grave danger, an invasion by enemies. In those dreams, he wielded a Cross Sword, clad in shimmering Silver Armor, charging fearlessly into battle.

To fight for his home, for his sanctuary—a hero in every sense of the word!

Of course, as he grew older, the harsh realities of life had extinguished those dreams.

He was just a commoner.

Commoners didn’t wear Armor or wield treasure swords. Commoners were frail, insignificant, utterly powerless. Someone like him could never become a hero—that was the realm of the Nobles.

Over time, Hasrant accepted this harsh truth, abandoning his childish dreams of heroism.

But now, in this moment, those childhood memories seemed to resurface. Standing on these ramparts, clashing with beasts, fighting for this city—it didn’t matter why. At this moment, Hasrant felt brave. Felt like a hero.

“Roar!”

Suddenly, a ferocious howl pierced the air.

A wild wolf had climbed up the rampart, swiftly lunging toward a nearby soldier.

The soldier was locked in combat with a massive bear and wholly unaware of the danger behind him.

“Watch out!”

Hasrant’s face changed, and without hesitation, he dashed forward and shoved his comrade aside, exposing himself to the wolf’s deadly claws.

“Slash!”

A gleaming light flashed as pain erupted from Hasrant’s neck—razor-sharp claws tore a deep gash into his flesh, and blood gushed forth like a torrential fountain.

Though gravely wounded, Hasrant didn’t collapse immediately. He gritted his teeth through the agony and swung his Cross Sword, slaying the wild wolf.

But as the wolf fell, so did Hasrant’s energy. The loss of blood left him gasping for air, his life force slipping away with every breath.

Am I… going to die?

Hasrant fell to the ground, panting heavily. In the face of death, he felt strangely calm—no fear, only reflections on his courageous moments.

He had slain the wolf, saved his comrade… Truly, he felt like a hero.

Not so different from the Nobles after all.

So…

I had it in me all along?

It was only now, at the edge of death, that Hasrant realized he wasn’t as weak or worthless as he once thought. The Nobles weren’t invincible either; he could do what they did—maybe even better.

Too bad…

If only I’d known sooner… I could’ve done so much more…

Hasrant closed his eyes, regretfully.

But in that instant, a clear voice rang in his ear.

“Holy Light Healing!”

A gentle radiance descended from above, enveloping Hasrant entirely. Bathed in this Warmth, the pain from his wounds suddenly vanished. He could breathe normally again, and his strength returned.

Hasrant instinctively opened his eyes, met by a dazzling Light. Amidst the brilliance, a graceful figure began to emerge.

She wore a pure white robe, emanating a soft glow, her angelic features as beautiful as the legends described.

“Angel… Are you an Angel? Have you come to take me to the Kingdom of Heaven?” Hasrant murmured instinctively.

The Angel didn’t reply but turned and left.

Clarity returned to his vision; his awareness sharpened anew. Hasrant finally grasped one truth—

I’m alive?

He inspected his body from top to bottom, finding his neck wound fully healed, the blood gone, and even his fatigue from the brutal fight had completely disappeared. Strength surged within him anew.

“Magic!”

“It’s Magic!”

Hasrant exclaimed excitedly, immediately understanding what had taken place.

He turned, staring at the ’Angel’ who had pulled him back from the brink of Death. The image of her was etched indelibly into his mind—a memory he would never forget.

“Fight! Fight!”

Grasping his Cross Sword, Hasrant rose to his feet once more. Though there was no Soul Resonance this time, his gaze remained unyielding and resolute.

“Charge!”

With a roar, he plunged back into the battlefield.

Having brushed against Death itself, this once-weak commoner was reborn through fire and blood.

Like a true Hero!

If you find any errors ( Ads popup, ads redirect, broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.