Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

Howard, leading Redfeather, walked past Duduro out of the inn, but his steps halted abruptly not far from the entrance.

He heard the sound of bells.

Rodel indeed had a clock tower, managed by someone specifically for the job, chiming punctually at morning, noon, and evening.

However, this was not the time for regular chimes, and the sound was not the deep, resonant tone of the clock tower—a sound Howard had clearly remembered from the day before.

This bell, in contrast, was sharp and urgent.

Dong—

Dong—

Dong—

Often, such bell sounds portend dire news.

"This is the alarm bell!"

Duduro's voice came from behind, and when Howard turned around, he saw the smile had vanished from Duduro's face, replaced by a look of solemnity and seriousness.

"And it's a second-level alarm, signifying an emergency situation that could cause severe damage to the city."

"My actions were too slow; the monster tide has already launched its assault!"

...

Howard stood atop the city walls.

In the distance was a dense mix of colors, a multitude blended together, conveying the sense of a frenzied will.

The rushing momentum of the monster tide was palpably felt, the ground beginning to tremble, the air growing damp.

A frenzy of wild beasts, spellbeast subspecies, spellbeasts, and even some subhumans.

On the other side stood humans, dwarves, and half-elves with similar appearances, their positions clear and straightforward in this scenario.

Good and evil were infinitely diluted; both sides were simply fighting for survival.

To live on.

To persevere.

To survive.

These were the whispers of the battlefield.

The war had not yet begun, but everyone's battle had already commenced.

Relying on the city walls, Rodel's guard could definitely inflict substantial casualties, but the real headache in any siege isn't the battle of annihilation; it's the siege itself.

Neither the defenders nor the attackers would stop the meat grinder from turning until a significant price had been paid.

Howard now stood on one of the protruding bulwarks of the city wall, a spot generally reserved for mounting magi-tech cannons or giant crossbows.

However, given that magi-tech cannons and giant crossbows were of limited use against the frenzied monster tide, the city guards had temporarily moved these to more distant corners of the wall to alleviate pressure.

These protruding bulwarks became the defensive areas for adventurers.

Alongside Howard were six individuals of varying gender and age, ranging from twenty to forty years old, four men and two women, seemingly strangers to one another.

Such assignments typically grouped acquaintances together.

But Howard was an exception, like a class that had started the term some time ago.

Beyond the diverse small groups, there were always a few individuals who appeared solitary.

Maybe shunned, maybe inconspicuous.

These actions, perhaps not maliciously intended, could nevertheless inflict damage capable of ruining a person's life.

Howard had been treated this way, leading him to walk alone—not out of solitude, but a dislike for speaking.

Consequently, his interactions dwindled further, a vicious cycle that had formed from the start.

Fortunately, a ray of sunshine pierced through the nightmare's clouds.

Howard could never forget the sunlight on that dull afternoon, blindingly white, tickling his face with a sensation of itchiness.

The sun of his life had appeared.

The increasing roar awakened Howard from his memories.

That was the sound of the beast horde's footsteps.

The presence of a small number of wild beasts might not be significant, but multiply that base by thousands or tens of thousands, and the resulting change is bound to exceed your expectations.

Even a stampeding herd of horses can give the sensation of an earthquake, let alone spellbeast subspecies and spellbeasts, many of which are much larger than horses.

From a distance, Howard spotted no fewer than ten low-level spellbeasts mingling within the horde.

If the beast horde were an army, then these low-level spellbeasts would be its centurions and commanders, directly influencing the movements of the creatures within a considerable range.

Taking a deep breath, Howard drew the straight sword from his back.

Still a lone sword.

Although he had no certainty of surviving against such a scale of beast horde, revealing one's full strength at the last moment always had a more significant effect, much like how the final hand is played for a turnaround.

If the city walls could hold the defense, then whether or not he unleashed his full strength wouldn't matter much.

On the contrary, if the walls were breached, the energy and strength he conserved would play a much more critical role.

To protect more people.

The significance of a single life seemed less important at this moment.

"What's your name, brother?"

A ruggedly built man among the six adventurers stood beside Howard, wielding a battle hammer that looked terrifying at first glance.

Such a blunt weapon inflicted more dreadful effects on the body than mere sharp weapons.

Facing the beast horde now closing in within a few hundred meters, the rugged man did not seem tense; instead, he took an interest in Howard.

Adventurers gathered here were all braced for death, enticed by the guild's irresistible offer to dare the riches amid dangers.

Yet, this uncle's calmness seemed a bit excessive.

Among the other adventurers, one had already started trembling.

"Howard," Howard offered without concealment.

"So young, how come you're here?"

The rugged man shook his head.

"I'm Thor. You can call me Uncle Thor."

At this, he glanced at the others, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

"Those folks are already no good. If someone's to die first, it'll be them! On the battlefield, the more afraid of death you are, the quicker you die! It's almost like a curse."

Thor's face bore a sigh.

"Stick close to me. If you can't hold up, falling back is okay too. The most important thing is to survive. What's the point of worrying about pride for adventurers who lick blood off the knife's edge for a living? It's not like it can be exchanged for a few gold coins."

His words were rough but rooted in harsh reality, albeit not quite applicable to Howard.

However, this was, after all, an expression of goodwill, and Howard found it difficult to outright reject, merely responding ambiguously.

The walls of Rodel, though not towering, stood seven to eight meters tall—a height sufficient to keep out most wild beasts but implying that any creature that made it to the top was not to be trifled with.

And such foes were not in short supply here.

Be it green wolves or saber-toothed tigers, none were easy to handle.

Moreover, Howard spotted some small black dots, floating far away in the sky!

Large flying spellbeasts, starting at least from the low level.

"This battle won't be easy."

For this time-limited quest to defend the city, Howard didn't bring Nula along.

It wasn't out of unwillingness but impossibility.

After Duduro left, Howard went back to fetch Nula, only to find White in the room.

Nula was nowhere to be found.

However, at such a life-and-death juncture, Howard couldn't afford to dwell on this matter.

His focus was locked on the monster tide.

After all, each of these creatures represented gold coins!

...

As the monster tide closed in within two hundred meters of Rodel, Howard's ears were filled with an endless, sharp buzzing.

That was the vibration of bowstrings!contemporary romance

Hundreds of archers stationed on the city walls wove a dense net of arrows.

Death has always been impartial.

The moment the seemingly sparse rain of arrows was loosed, Howard already foresaw the advent of death.

The arrows, descending from the sky, relying purely on kinetic energy, could exert astonishing force given enough distance.

They would penetrate everything in their trajectory and mercilessly pin the wild beasts to the ground!

Blood sprayed in all directions.

The spectacle of life meeting death in such grandeur is hard to capture with mere words.

The roars of beasts facing their end, the angry shouts of survivors, the tremble of the earth, the gradually warming weapons in one's hands, and the increasingly hot air.

All these elements combined to form the battlefield.

"All units, range marker two, fire!"

The second volley of arrows rained down.

Without counterfire from enemy archers, and at a sufficient distance, Rodel's side had an absolute advantage.

Yet, this advantage couldn't alter the overall disadvantage.

As the third volley was released, a thunderous explosion marked the arrival of the monster tide.

Beasts and spellbeasts, driven to madness by unknown causes, rammed into the city walls with reckless abandon.

Perhaps the charge of one or two beasts meant little, but the number of beasts at the city's base was far from a mere handful.

Creatures from dozens of kilometers around had converged here, with the quantity of the horde at the walls exceeding ten thousand.

This onslaught did not last long, but it caused significant turmoil.

Seasoned adventurers and city guards might have remained unaffected, but those adventurers who had underestimated the horde, hoping to make a quick fortune here, began to panic.

Death had not yet made its appearance, but the fear it brought had already seized their throats.

Facing it alone might not have been an issue, but emotions are contagious.

A few individuals panicking might not matter much, but they could spark even greater panic.

It was like a chain reaction of an avalanche.

By the time Howard realized, the commotion had already taken shape.

done.co