From the second floor of the town hall, Lunaria stood by the arched window, her emerald eyes sweeping across the village in the dim glow of night. The air was tense—too still, as though even the wind feared what prowled beyond the treeline.

  They were outnumbered.

  Excluding the four adventurers, the town's morale was very low, and only two other able-bodied men had volunteered to fight. Lunaria's gaze lingered on them below as they carried their spears with uncertain grips.

  Can they even fight, let alone survive? She wondered.

  Courage was one thing. Strength and ability were another. Against a large number of goblins, one wrong move meant death.

  She closed her eyes briefly, organizing her thoughts with the precision of a battlefield tactician.

  Before entering Thatchrun earlier, she had swiftly surveyed the village. Its layout now unfolded in her mind like a living map.

  At the heart of the settlement lay a central well square—an open clearing large enough to serve as a rallying point. The surrounding houses were built of timber and thatch, their wooden roofs angled steeply. Only she possessed the agility and skill to exploit such heights for a top assault. The narrow alleyways between several homes could serve as choke points—ideal for funneling multiple enemies into single-file engagement.

  Near the eastern edge stood a grain storehouse bordering an open field. Dangerous. If seized, it would provide the goblins both provisions and open maneuvering space.

  Four watchtowers marked the village corners—crude, but elevated. With archers positioned there, they could create overlapping lines of fire, if only we had more archers.

  Structures are not advantages by themselves, Lunaria reminded herself. They are only tools—tools that can be wielded by capable hands.

  She inhaled slowly.

  Then she whispered, by nature and lineage, this domain is mine... Spiritvine Field Perception.

  Emerald energy spiraled outward from her feet, once again sensing the village and the surrounding terrain.

  Four goblins within the village perimeter.

  Scouts?

  They were hiding—likely observing defenses, mapping weaknesses.

  Her perception stretched further, brushing against the forest's edge. More signatures flickered in her mind.

  Twenty gathered near the southern treeline—close enough to strike at any moment.

  Another twenty further north, holding position.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  And one presence among them—denser. Heavier. Coiled like a predator.

  The commander?

  She exhaled sharply and opened her eyes.

  They are waiting for reports from the scouts. Once confirmed, the attack begins.

  Which meant she still had time.

  By her estimation, twenty-four goblins were prepared to advance immediately once the signal was given. The remaining forces might flank or reinforce depending on resistance.

  A frontal clash would be suicide.

  Lunaria began constructing possibilities.

  Over two hours had passed.

  Lunaria descended the wooden staircase with measured steps, her mind already running through every detail of the plan. At the bottom, her party and the two volunteer men waited, tense but alert. Each of them carried their own strengths, and each would be crucial for tomorrow's daylight skirmish.

  Lunaria leaned over the table, laying out a white map of the village structures she had meticulously memorized in her mind. The torchlight danced across her sharp features as her finger traced invisible routes between buildings and narrow alleys.

  We don't have the numbers to face them head-on, she said, her voice calm yet edged with authority. But we can turn their strength against them. We split them. Scatter them. Confuse them. Draw them into traps. Break their formation before they even realize what's happening.

  Tria stretched so dramatically that she nearly knocked over a lantern. Let's just hope I don't have to deal with more than six at a time. I enjoy standing out— group therapy isn't my thing.

  Rain stood up. Let me handle one group alone, he said confidently.

  Seraphine stepped closer, concern etched on her face. Are you serious Goblins aren't hard one-on-one, sure, but in a group? You're level twenty. You'll be swarmed in seconds.

  Rain smirked. Don't worry, Sera. I won't die that easily. And if they get too tough, I'll just run. In my world, I'm the fastest in town. They call me the Kind of Speed.

  Tria snorted, smirking. So... basically a coward who runs from fights? Charming.

  Rain snapped, glaring, if you don't have anything useful to say, shut your mouth.

  Tria laughed, clearly enjoying herself. You've got guts, I'll give you that. Survive this, and maybe I'll treat you a little better.

  Luna's grin was subtle but edged like a drawn blade. That's enough teasing.

  Her eyes settled on Seraphine. You'll take one of the soldiers and draw one group toward the open fields. Your magic thrives in wide, unobstructed space. I want clear sightlines, plenty of distance, and freedom for you to cast without interference. Pull them away from the others—then drown them in your water spells before they even realize they've been isolated.

  Soldier, you'll serve as the lure. Keep their attention on you and make certain she has the time she needs to cast without interruption.

  Understood, the soldier replied firmly

  She turned to Tria next. You'll take the other soldier and lead one group into the towers. Use the stairwells and narrow corridors. Force them into tight spaces so they can't surround you. Break their formation. Strike fast, strike unpredictably. Don't give them time to think.

  Soldier, assist her by any means possible.

  Understood, the other soldier firmly replied.

  Her eyes gleamed as she straightened. As for me... I'll take the remaining group. I'll come from above.

  Rain blinked. Above?

  Luna's smile widened ever so slightly. An aerial assault. They won't even see what's coming down on them.

  She rolled up the map and slammed it onto the table. Speed. Precision. No hesitation. We don't win by strength—we win by control. We decide where they fight. We decide how they die.

  The room fell quiet.

  Tomorrow, the goblins wouldn't be hunting.

  They would be walking into carefully prepared graves.

  Tria hesitated. Shouldn't Sera take both of the guards? She's strong, but spellcasting takes time. She might need more protection.

  Seraphine's mana danced around her hands, twisting into small spirals of water in the air. One is enough. I can handle it. Besides... you might need the extra hand more than I do.