The following morning, as the village stirred to life with its usual activities, a knock echoed through the house. Kokoro rose to answer it, and from the urgency in her footsteps, I guessed it had something to do with the incident in the forest the previous night. I couldn't quite make out the conversation at the door, but I was certain they were discussing what had happened. From the whispered tones that drifted inside, I caught fragments—mention of the young woman I had saved.

  Not long after, Kokoro returned, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She disappeared into Grandma Haruko’s room, and though their voices were hushed, I could still hear the faint murmur of their conversation from where I sat.

  Moments later, both Kokoro and Grandma Haruko emerged, their expressions unreadable as they glanced at me. Grandma Haruko finally spoke, her voice gentle yet firm.

  “We have a brief meeting to attend,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable. We won’t be long.”

  I stood up, hesitating. “Could I join you?”

  They exchanged a quick look, their silence speaking louder than words. I already knew the answer before they could even form it.

  “No need,” I said quickly, forcing a smile to ease the tension. “I’ll stay behind. I’m fine here.”

  They both nodded, their expressions softening with relief, and headed out.

  While they were gone, I could only imagine the discussions taking place. The young woman I had rescued was surely recounting the events of that night, testifying to my actions. But I doubted everyone would be pleased. It wasn’t that saving her had been wrong—far from it—but fear has a way of twisting even good deeds into threats. The warriors I had confronted weren’t the type to let things go quietly. Their leader had made his threats clear, and now the villagers were likely weighing the cost of my interference against the safety of their home.

  Some villagers, I imagined, voiced their worries—reminding everyone of the warrior leader’s words, the promise of retribution. But Kokoro and Grandma Haruko, I trusted, would have defended me. They would argue that protecting the innocent was the right thing to do, no matter the consequences. Those men had deserved what they got.

  An hour passed, each minute stretching longer than the last. When they finally returned, their faces bore a bittersweet expression—a mix of gratitude and worry.

  “Thank you,” Kokoro said quietly, her eyes meeting mine. “For what you did last night. You saved that young woman from something terrible.”

  Grandma Haruko nodded in agreement before they both sat down to brief me on the meeting. As they spoke, I listened carefully. Their plan wasn’t surprising; they hoped to resolve the situation diplomatically, knowing full well the warriors wouldn’t let this go without some kind of response.

  It wasn’t the worst plan. But deep down, I knew diplomacy could only hold back the storm for so long.

  I offered a suggestion of my own, and as Grandma Haruko and Kokoro listened attentively, I saw the flicker of understanding in their eyes. My idea aligned with theirs in principle, but there was one key difference—I wasn’t afraid to resort to violence if the warriors dared step out of line. I vowed to them both that I would do whatever it took to protect this village. Kokoro’s village. My village now.

  They could see it in my eyes—the determination, the unwavering resolve. I meant every word. Even though I’d only been here for two days, this place had become my home. I wouldn’t allow harm to come to these good people. Not while I was here. And even if I wasn’t, even if life took me elsewhere, danger would think twice before setting its mark on this village after I had left mine.

  All we could do was hope that things wouldn’t escalate. But if they did… well, the village had me. And that was enough.

  For the next few days, life returned to its usual rhythm. The villagers carried on with their daily routines, and peace settled over us like a comforting blanket. But peace never lasts forever.

  On the third day, trouble arrived—loud, furious, and uninvited.

  The warriors stormed into the village with their beasts of burden, their presence casting a dark shadow over the people. The leader’s voice boomed through the air, dripping with fury as he shouted Grandma Haruko’s name. She and Kokoro stepped out of the house, joining the already gathered villagers to face the intruders.

  I wasn’t there. I had gone into the forest to fetch firewood, unaware of the storm brewing back home.

  The leader dismounted from his beast, his face twisted with rage. He demanded to see me, furious over the death of his comrades. Grandma Haruko tried to speak, her voice calm and steady, but he silenced her with a sharp gesture.

  “What right do you have?” he barked. “If not for the protection we offer against monsters and supernaturals, your miserable lives would’ve ended long ago.”

  His words dripped with arrogance and entitlement, but it was what he said next that made the villagers' blood run cold.

  “We have every right to the women of this land. It’s your duty to oblige, whether you want to or not. Violation or not—we are men, and we will satisfy our lust.”

  Gasps rippled through the crowd. Grandma Haruko, ever the voice of reason, tried to correct him, her words firm but respectful. “It is wrong for a man to force his will on a woman.”

  But the warrior leader’s face darkened with rage. He raised his hand to strike her—just as he had done in the past—but before the blow could land, Kokoro’s hand shot up, catching his wrist mid-air. Her eyes burned with fury as she stared him down.

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  “Don’t you dare raise your filthy hand against my grandmother,” she hissed.

  For a moment, he was stunned. Then his rage flickered, replaced by something uglier—amusement, laced with lust. His gaze raked over Kokoro’s figure, and a sinister smirk curled on his lips.

  “I’ll let what happened three days ago slide,” he sneered, “if you submit yourself to me.”

  The words had barely left his mouth when Kokoro’s hand flew across his cheek with a resounding slap, her face twisted in disdain and disgust. The village held its breath.

  But he only laughed—a deep, unhinged sound that echoed through the square. In a flash, his hand shot out, grabbing Kokoro roughly. She struggled, but his grip was like iron.

  Grandma Haruko rushed forward to intervene, but he shoved her aside. She fell hard to the ground, and a villager hurried to help her up. The other warriors surrounded the crowd, their weapons drawn, their threats keeping everyone frozen in place.

  Meanwhile, I was already on my way back from the forest, a heavy bundle of firewood balanced on my shoulder. As I neared the village, distant screams and the unmistakable sounds of chaos reached my ears. My heart clenched. I dropped the firewood and sprinted toward the commotion, but then I stopped—picking up one of the heavier logs. I wasn’t leaving empty-handed.

  When I arrived, the sight that greeted me ignited a fire in my chest. The villagers stood helplessly as the warriors surrounded them. But it was the leader who caught my attention, his filthy hands gripping Kokoro, his intentions sickeningly clear. He sneered as he reached for her, his hand moving toward her chest.

  Before his fingers could touch her, I hurled the piece of firewood with every ounce of strength I had. The log struck him square in the forehead with a sickening thud. His grip on Kokoro loosened as he staggered backward, dazed and struggling to regain his balance.

  Kokoro didn’t waste a second. With a swift, merciless kick, she drove her foot into his groin. The warrior leader let out a guttural grunt of pain, doubling over as he stumbled.

  I dropped the rest of the firewood at my feet, my fists clenching. The village had me now.

  And I was done playing nice.

  His gaze darted wildly through the crowd, searching for the one who dared strike him. Fury twisted his features as he barked at his comrades, “Get hold of Kokoro!”

  But before they could lay a finger on her, I sprang into action. I hurled another piece of firewood with brutal force, striking one of them square in the chest. The impact sent them staggering back, retreating momentarily to regroup around their leader, who had now recovered from the pain in his groin.

  Then his eyes found mine.

  For a moment, we were both silent, locked in a stare of pure hostility. But when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with venomous confidence. “I warned you. If you ever caused trouble, I’d burn this village to the ground.”

  I took a step forward, my expression cold and unyielding. “Then prepare to take your last breath.”

  The words hung in the air like a death sentence. I saw it—the flicker of fear that passed through his eyes before he summoned what courage he had left. With a roar, he ordered his men to attack.

  As they charged at me, their auras flaring and magical swords gleaming, I turned to Kokoro and Grandma Haruko. “Get the villagers to safety. I’ll handle these bastards.”

  They didn’t argue. Kokoro grabbed her grandmother’s arm, and together they began guiding the villagers away from the chaos. But I had no time to watch them go.

  The warriors were almost on me.

  They thought their numbers and enchanted weapons would overwhelm me. They thought wrong.

  I met their charge head-on, moving with a precision and ferocity they never expected. My fists and feet became instruments of ruthless efficiency, each strike finding its mark with bone-crushing force. Their magical swords? Useless. Their auras? Nothing more than faint glows against my presence. I didn’t show mercy. I didn’t need to.

  In less than a second, they were all down—lifeless bodies crumpled in the dirt, their blood soaking into the earth. The only one left standing was their leader, staring at me in stunned disbelief.

  But even then, he tried to summon what little pride he had left. With a scream of rage, he charged toward me, sword raised high.

  I could’ve ended him right then. A quick strike, and it would be over. But no—a swift death was too merciful for him. He needed to suffer. He needed to feel every ounce of humiliation before I sent him to whatever hell awaited him.

  I let him come.

  He swung wildly, his strikes filled with desperation and fury. But I dodged each one with ease, stepping aside as if his attacks were nothing more than a child’s tantrum. His magical blasts? I deflected them effortlessly, the sparks flickering out like dying embers before they even touched me.

  The entire village watched from a safe distance, their eyes wide with awe. They saw it—the way his most powerful magic, the very essence of his strength, was nothing but a parlor trick to me.

  Frustrated, the leader gathered every ounce of energy he had left and summoned a massive magical flame, engulfing me in a swirling inferno. The heat was so intense, the villagers gasped in horror, thinking I’d been reduced to ash.

  But when the flames cleared, I stood there—untouched. Unharmed. I had absorbed his magical fire with my XPT energy, and I hadn’t even needed to transform.

  His eyes widened in disbelief. He stumbled back as I stepped forward, my voice calm, almost mocking. “Is that all you’ve got? How the hell did you become the leader of your comrades?”

  His frustration boiled over. He lunged at me again, but this time, I didn’t just dodge. I struck. My fists connected with brutal precision, each hit leaving deep cuts and bruises across his body. He couldn’t land a single blow, but I made sure he felt every one of mine.

  Finally, I grabbed him by the collar and tossed him aside like a ragdoll. He hit the ground hard, rolling until he came to a stop in the dirt. He struggled to rise, his body battered and tattered, his breath ragged and uneven.

  I could see it in his eyes—he’d lost the will to fight. But his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. The humiliation was too much. In his gaze, I saw it clearly: he’d rather die than submit.

  “I thought you were strong,” I said, my voice dripping with contempt. “But you’re nothing without your team.”

  I began to approach him, each step deliberate. He tried to retreat, his eyes scanning the area for a hostage, a shield—anything. But there was no one left to save him.

  Finally, his voice trembled as he asked, “Who… who are you?”

  I stopped, standing tall before him, and let the words roll off my tongue like a death knell. “I’m Joseph Benjamin Carmen… the Unkillable.”

  “Etch that into your memory,” I added, my voice laced with cold venom, “because it’ll be the last thing you remember when you die.”

  His jaw clenched, and I saw the faint flicker of recognition in his eyes. Maybe he’d heard of me. Maybe he hadn’t. It didn’t matter.

  We stared at each other for a long moment. I let him catch his breath—gave him a chance to realize just how hopeless this fight was. But instead of surrendering, he began to laugh. A manic, unhinged sound that echoed through the silent village.

  Then, with the last of his strength, he charged up his aura, his body glowing with a desperate, unstable energy.

  "You think you can scare me with your little tricks? Killing my men—so what?" he sneered, though his voice trembled beneath the forced bravado. His fear, barely hidden behind his arrogance, was painfully clear as he stood tall, attempting to mask it.

  "You may be strong," he continued, "but even you can't stand against the combination of my Unique Skill and Ultimate Skill. The devastation they'll bring… it's beyond anything you can imagine." His eyes gleamed with dangerous intent as he stepped forward, a wicked smile curling across his lips.