Awakening Of The Forgotten World

The silence that followed the battle was deafening.

Dain stood amidst the wreckage, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His bronze sword, slick with dark blood, trembled in his grip. His body was still running on the last remnants of [Last Stand], but exhaustion was beginning to set in.

The hobgoblin warband had fled.

The village had survived.

But at what cost?

All around him, villagers and militia members stood frozen, staring at the battlefield. The bodies of fallen hobgoblins lay strewn across the bridge and dirt path—lifeless, twisted shapes. Blood stained the earth. The acrid scent of sweat and iron filled the air.

Then, the first cry rang out.

A wounded man collapsed to his knees, clutching his side. A woman rushed to his aid, sobbing as she pressed rags against his wound.

More followed.

Wounded fighters groaned, some clutching missing limbs, others barely able to stand.

A new notification appeared before Dain's eyes.

[Quest Complete: Defend Eldrin's Hollow]

Rewards:

• +250 Experience

• Title Unlocked: "Defender of Eldrin's Hollow"

His vision blurred for a moment as the system's notifications flashed.

[Level Up!]

Level: 7 → 8

+3 Strength, +2 Dexterity, +2 Vitality

Dain exhaled sharply.

He was stronger now, but the weight in his chest told him that strength wasn't enough.

Because now came the hardest part—dealing with what came after.

"Dain!"

He turned to see Edric approaching, his face streaked with sweat and dirt. He was limping, his leather armor torn at the side, revealing a deep gash beneath.

"You alright?" Edric asked, his tone rough.

Dain nodded, swallowing hard. "I'll live."

Edric let out a breath. "Good. Because we've got work to do."

Together, they moved through the battlefield, checking on the injured and counting the dead.

It was worse than Dain had expected.

Eldrin's Hollow hadn't won—they had barely survived.

Out of the thirty fighters that had taken up arms, only seventeen remained standing.

Four were dead.

Nine were too wounded to fight again.

Dain clenched his fists.

He had fought so hard to keep the village safe.

And yet, people had still died.

The system had made him stronger. Faster. More powerful.

But it hadn't been enough to save everyone.

A hollow feeling settled in his chest.

What good was power if he couldn't protect the people who needed him most?

As dawn broke, the survivors began their grim work.

The bodies of the fallen villagers were carefully wrapped in cloth and laid to rest. The hobgoblin corpses were dragged to the edge of the forest, piled together, and burned.

A thick, choking smoke rose into the sky.

The scent was nauseating.

Dain forced himself to watch.

He needed to remember this.

The price of survival.

The weight of war.

He had never killed so many before. Never stood in battle, surrounded by corpses, the blood of his enemies staining his hands.

He had felt alive in the fight.

But now?

Now, he just felt tired.

Is this what it means to be strong?

A part of him had thought that, once the battle was over, he would feel victorious.

But there was no glory here.

Only loss.

Only the need to grow stronger—so this never happened again.

Dain was still helping with the cleanup when the system interrupted.

A notification appeared—one he hadn't expected.

[System Alert: Unknown Presence Detected]

His body went rigid.

Another warning?

The hobgoblins were gone. The battle was over.

So why was the system still warning him?

More text appeared.

[Location: Western Ruins]

[Entity Detected: ???]

Threat Level: ???]

Dain's grip tightened.

The Western Ruins.

That was where he had trained before the battle.

What had the system detected there?

He had no idea.

But one thing was certain—

This wasn't over.

"Dain."

He turned to see Torren, the village blacksmith, approaching. His arms were crossed, his face grim.

"I saw how you fought," the older man said. "You're not just some farmer anymore."

Dain hesitated, unsure how to respond.

Torren reached behind him and pulled something from his pack—a sheathed weapon.

"I don't have much left," Torren admitted. "The village lost too much metal in this battle. But I reforged this last night."

He handed the weapon to Dain.

The moment Dain gripped the hilt, a new notification appeared.

[New Equipment Acquired: Iron Sword]

• Attack Power: 25

• Durability: 100/100

Dain inhaled.

An iron sword.

A step above the bronze blade he had been using.

A sign that he was ready for something more.

He met Torren's gaze. "Thank you."

Torren grunted. "Just keep yourself alive, alright?"

Dain nodded.

But deep down, he knew—

With the system warning him about the Western Ruins, keeping himself alive wasn't going to be easy.

Because if the system was right—

Then something worse than hobgoblins was waiting for him.

As the village worked to recover, Dain took his new sword and made his way toward the Western Ruins.

He was tired.

His body ached.

But he couldn't ignore the system's warning.

Something was coming.

And he had to be ready.

He had survived his first war.

Now, it was time to face what came next.

And this time, he wouldn't just survive.

He would win.