By the time everyone realized that the guns wouldnât be working for the foreseeable future, bows were already being aimed in our direction.
âEveryone back in the house now!! Blow out all the damn candles!! Move move move move!!!!â
There were only five of us outside and it didnât take long for our feet to get moving and all of us were in the house.
A couple arrows already whizzed by a few of us but thankfully no one was hit. Once we were all in, Grandpa slammed the door shut.
âBlow out the candles and get everyone that canât fight to the movie theater! Hurry up! We donât have time to waste!â
Everyone did as told and we all grabbed whatever weapons we could and set up quickly and haphazardly around the front door, and wherever else we thought best.
It was night outside, and with all the candles we painstakingly put up now put out, the house was now the epitome of darkness.
The front door was smashed off the hinges and from where I crouched, about 5 of them rushed in straight ahead beforeâ¦
Woosh!
Bang!
The metal spear my Grandpa kept above his mantle came flying in from the end of the hall. And whoever was standing there got a spear through their body as a reward for breaking into Grandpaâs house.
Chaos ensued.
They were screaming and yelling all manner of things none of us understood and it took a few moments but they eventually entered again.
It would be a while before Grandpa could throw another spear like that using his skill, but thankfully we had other options.
Aunt Renee, Aunt Risha, and surprisingly my mother all picked up the Hunter class.
No one forced them to do it, and it was just a big coincidence that 3 out of the 5 adult women in the group all chose Hunter.
We were not complaining at all, as it apparently made it far easier for them to use the bow. I donât know if it was skill related like a passive or something, or they just got ingrained knowledge. I donât know.
What I do know though, is that the next wave of entrants to our humble abode were welcomed in by arrows.
That wouldâve been fine and dandy to keep going just like that, but even the supply of arrows we managed to collect was limited, and it wasnât like they were hitting every shot, nor were all the shots they hit immediately fatal.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
And based on the fact the red people seemed like they were finally throwing caution to the wind and just running into the house without a care, it was finally time for the rest of us to play our parts.
Everyone that was a melee fighter.
There were a lot of thoughts going through my head at the moment.
Some of them are thoughts I purposely concocted on my own.
While there were a few others that just seemed to pop in even without my say so.
Like for example, the enemies that we are currently fighting. Shouldnât they be far more versed with system life than we are?
Shouldnât they be way stronger than us and be extremely hard for us to deal with?
And why doesnât it feel like not a single one of them are using any out of this world skills?
Yeah they could throw spears pretty hard, but Grandpa could do that too.
And apparently a few of them mightâve brushed off a bullet, but I donât doubt that the right combo of a Trait and a skill could accomplish the same thing.
We have only been in this system life of ours for two days, and we practically know nothing.
Yet we are able to fight them and kill them so soon?
Something about that doesnât add up to me.
Like where are the balls of fire? Blades made of wind? Lightning strikes from the heavens?
Maybe I was way too caught up in books and tv shows, but for some reason I truly felt that there had to be another reason for this.
Plus, Iâm already sitting here at level 17.
Not even a week and Iâm at level 17. Maybe there are millions of levels and level 17 means nothing, but it all just felt off.
Now even though these thoughts swirled around in my head, it didnât take away from my focus at all.
There were plenty of shouts and screams coming from both members of my family and even the enemies rushing into our home. At this point it all sounded like hodge podge of nothing to me.
And the thoughts continued to swirl as they may, right up until a bunch of unfamiliar voices finally approached the corner I was hiding behind. It was the doorway to a small study not too far from the front door.
Close enough that I could peek out and observe the arrows and Grandpaâs spear being fired and thrown by just peeking out, but far enough that it would take about 30 seconds to a minute for them to reach the entry way.
The voices sounded frantic, frustrated, and colored in anger, and unfortunately for them that frustration was going to grow a whole lot worse.
I held the dagger I got from the dungeon in one hand, and one of their own swords in another.
There was a part of me that wanted to use one of the spears we picked up, but that wasnât something I was trained in, and the area we would be fighting in was small.
Shoot I wasnât trained in dagger or sword fighting either, but it was a whole lot easier to swing a sword and knife around as fast and as hard as I could in tight quarters.
Fuck.
Alright.
Letâs fucking do this shit Freddy.
I turned the corner and stormed out of the room in a rush and one of the red people was directly in my path and I drove the dagger I held in my hand straight into his chest without a second of delay.
There were a few more of the bastards around me, and after taking a deep breath and a rush of oxygen filled my longs, allowing my lone trait to showcase itâs abilities.
I became a madman.
Leaving my dagger in the chest of the first one, I ducked to dodge the swing of something flying towards my head and then brought my sword up above me while activating Ripple Guard immediately.
Whatever I was attacked with slammed into my sword but it didnât feel as hard as what the swing of the attacker shouldâve implied and I could hear them stumble backwards as the second effect of skill came to fruition.
A portion of the impact was redirected outwards and the unexpected force caused them to stumble ever so slightly.
And that was all I needed.
I roared out as I began swinging the sword in my hand out at the enemies around me in a flurry of attacks.
There was no grace, no technique applied, no second coming of the sword saint happening here.
I was just a scared young man with enemies at his neck and a sword in his hand.
It might as well have been a machete.