At the southern part of the village, Lancelot and his troop had just arrived at the borders.
Lancelot's eyes narrowed as he tightened the buckles of his armour, turning his head to look at a certain member of his group dressed in a dark brown cloak.
This person stood at the rear, almost like he was meant to be protected by the soldiers.
"Is this the place?" Lancelot asked.
The cloaked member bowed his head.
"Yes, Sir Lancelot. This is where the monsters were sighted."
Lancelot returned his gaze to the front to look at the border.
However, something felt off and it deterred him from riding forward any further.
After a few seconds of examining his surrounding, his eyes glinted with a sudden spark of realisation.
'A magic shield,' he thought while immediately alighting his horse.
Lancelot made his way toward the border, causing his subordinates to wonder what triggered this fresh decision to move on foot.
After a few metres of walking, the knight stopped and stretched out his hand.
He stood still for several seconds, feeling the air in front of him like it was a tangible form.
"Just as I thought," he muttered, calibrating the firm structure of the invisible barrier with his sense of touch.
Lancelot looked up and around him, trying to gauge the limits of this barrier and he couldn't help but smile.
'Looks like we will have some work to do here.'
As soon as he was done analysing the barrier, he gave a sidelong glance to his crew and without saying a single word, they understood what he wanted them to do.
The cloaked man took out a long scroll and laid it out on the ground, unfurling it as he began to chant incomprehensible words. With his incantation, several runic markings started appearing on the parchment from out of nowhere.
The rest of the troop followed suit—those on mounts alighted and the foot soldiers prepared themselves.
Hands were attached to the hilt of the swords strapped to their sides as they prepared themselves for any sudden and strange occurrences whatsoever.
A few of them released their feet from the grip of the muddy ground as the rain continued to reduce.
They were ready for whatever business brought them to this place.
Lancelot, on the other hand, closed his eyes and took in deep breaths to calm his body and mind.
The knight proceeded to place his second palm on the invisible barrier as if trying to push it away.
At this moment, Lancelot was open—he was defenseless and open to attacks—and that was where his subordinate came in.
They were there to protect and back him up if need be, and that was the signal he had given them earlier.
In a moment, bright blue patterns spread forth from Lancelot's arm, albeit hidden by his attire, until they got to the back of his hand where they were visible.
It was a defined network of bluish energy spreading from his hand into the invisible barrier.
Lancelot already sensed the mana from the barrier and that was how he knew one was there, but he never expected a magical barrier of this calibre to be positioned in a place like this.
He continued to inject his mana into the barrier while the cloaked member of his group continued to chant.
With every second that passed, Lancelot grew stronger and stronger, and his magic also grew exponentially more powerful as he continued to infiltrate the inner structures of the barrier with his external, unregistered mana.
Within a short while, the mana shield became visible for the rest of the crew to see, surprising them as they now understood what their commander had been up to.
A large, unique shield that was made up of innumerable pentagon plates joined to each other at their edges appeared out of nowhere.
Lancelot's lips curled into a satisfactory smile as he was a step closer to dismantling this blockade to their advancement.
Seeing that they were making marked progress, the man in the cloak started to chant even louder, evoking a strange occurrence as the runic letterings on the scroll started to climb onto his body.
By doing this, he turned himself into a conduit to channel the energy from the scroll.
Crack!
This continued for a few minutes until a small crack formed on the shield.
Crack!
Then another crack…
…And another after that.
After a few more cracks, a loud bang erupted into the atmosphere, causing the ground to quake and triggering fear in the hearts of the soldiers.
"Prepare yourselves!" Lancelot commanded at the top of his lungs, spittle flying out of his mouth as he channelled all the magical energy he could muster at that moment into bringing down the barrier.
More explosive sounds and earthquakes followed but it did not deter him since he had planned for such, even though he had really not expected to meet a barrier of such level.
The cloaked man continued to buff Lancelot up until multiple, longer cracks appeared on the shield, spreading out like a large spider's web and joining with each other.
With this, Lancelot and his squad were now just a few moments away from stepping into the village.
******
Back in the village…
The villagers had taken the time to coordinate themselves, all thanks to the elders and more experienced members who planned for the worst.
Rey rushed to his father's side as soon as he saw him coming out of the village chief's hut.
"Father, what's the mat—"
Eragon grabbed Rey's hands and looked him dead in his eyes, worry and anxiety etched on his face.
"Prepare for battle, Rey. We fear for the worst."
Shortly after, the older men of the village and some warriors of the village appeared, armed to the teeth with the crudest of weapons.
From axes to spears to hammers and wooden tools.
They did not have everything and were forced to use anything they could lay their hands on—even down to utensils—as weapons.
This village wasn't sophisticated but they understood one thing—they had to do whatever it took to survive whatever trouble was coming toward them.
The more experienced villagers knew what to expect but the younger ones like Rey were totally left in the dark, fear gripping their hearts, nearly squashing it to paste for those who couldn't handle the tension.
Rey, unsatisfied with the silence, hurriedly approached his father.
"Battle with who, Father?" he asked, catching up to him.
"We will talk about that later, son. Just—"
Rey made his way to Eragon's front, stopping him. "I need to know, Father!"
Eragon halted, his eyes widening with surprise.
"I'm almost 18 years old and you haven't said a thing to me yet about all of these. Now, you expect me… you expect us to fight an enemy we don't even know?!"
Rey was enraged and tired of being left in the dark, and his father could see these emotions in his eyes.
Eragon, at that moment, knew that there was nothing he could say to appease Rey.
Nothing.
…Except for the truth.