Mira moved like lightning.
Her feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted toward the Guardian, shield raised, sword gleaming. The blue aura from Arlen's Tactical Gambit pulsed around her, amplifying every motion, every breath.
The Guardian turned, sensing the threat.
But it was too slow.
Mira leapt, shield first, and slammed into the Guardian's chest with a force that cracked the air.
A shockwave rippled outward.
Stone plates shattered.
Molten light burst from the impact point.
The Guardian staggered.
Arlen's eyes widened. "She actually—"
The system whispered:
Mira's strike dealt 112 damage. Core destabilized. Guardian staggered.
The villagers gasped. The towering monster reeled backward, molten cracks flickering erratically.
Mira landed in a crouch, panting, eyes wide.
Arlen sprinted toward her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, then winced. "I think so. That felt… like too much."
The system chimed again:
Tactical Gambit backlash triggered. Mira: Status — Overclocked. Risk of system instability.
Arlen frowned. "Overclocked?"
Mira blinked. "I don't like the sound of that."
The Price of Power
Mira's aura began to flicker. Her muscles twitched involuntarily. Her sword hand trembled.
Arlen's analysis flared — her vitals were spiking. Heart rate, temperature, neural load. The system had pushed her past safe limits.
"Mira," he said carefully, "you need to fall back."
"I can still fight," she said through gritted teeth.
"I know. That's the problem."
The Guardian roared, regaining its balance. Its molten eyes locked onto Mira again.
Arlen stepped in front of her. "No. You're done."
She hesitated — then nodded, stumbling back toward the granary.
The system whispered:
Command Pulse cooldown: 3 minutes remaining.
Arlen exhaled. "Then it's just me."
The Guardian charged.
The Tactician's Stand
Arlen didn't run.
He couldn't win. He knew that. But he could stall. Delay. Distract.
He activated Situational Analysis again. The battlefield lit up in his mind — terrain, movement vectors, heat zones. The Guardian's path was predictable. Its momentum, exploitable.
Arlen darted sideways, leading it toward the collapsed cart. The Guardian followed, fists raised.
At the last moment, Arlen dove behind the cart's remains.
The Guardian's strike hit the debris — and the unstable crystal shard hidden beneath it.
The explosion was blinding.
The Guardian roared, stumbling backward, molten cracks flaring wildly.
Arlen rolled to his feet, coughing. "That was lucky."
The system chimed:
Environmental Exploit successful. Guardian stunned for 6 seconds.
Arlen didn't waste it.
He sprinted toward the granary, shouting to the villagers. "Archers! Aim for the cracks! Tailor — bind its legs again! Baker — blind it with Flour Burst!"
They moved. Not perfectly. Not like soldiers. But they moved.
The Guardian staggered under the barrage.
Arlen's system whispered:
Class Fragment evolving… Tactical Coordination unlocked.
He felt it — a subtle shift. His voice carried more weight. His commands synced faster. The villagers responded like pieces on a board, each one moving with purpose.
For the first time, Arlen felt like a real tactician.
The Countdown Ticks
The Guardian roared again, breaking free of the binds. Its molten core flared dangerously.
The system whispered:
Guardian entering Phase Two. Threat level: Cataclysmic.
Arlen's heart sank.
The countdown hovered in his vision.
22:03:17
They had to survive three more minutes.
He turned to Mira, who was slumped against the granary wall, breathing hard.
"Mira," he said, "can you still move?"
She nodded weakly. "Not fast. Not strong. But I'm here."
Arlen looked at the villagers — bruised, burned, terrified.
Then he looked at the Guardian.
And he smiled.
"Then let's make these last three minutes hell for it."