Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of the bamboo bell from the village watchtower echoed loudly, cutting deep into the nerves of everyone in Verdant territory. It wasn't an ordinary warning bell; the rapid, frantic rhythm signaled an impending doom creeping in at close range.
Tim, a twelve-year-old boy, stood trembling in front of Lloyd, tears streaming down his dirt-smudged face.
"My Lord... are we all going to die?" Tim sobbed, his small voice filled with absolute despair. "Last year, when just three mutated wolves attacked, the carpenter uncle got his leg bitten off. But now... the guards say they're coming in a whole pack!"
Lloyd took a deep breath, trying to suppress the original body's panic that was making his hands shake.
"Calm down, Tim," Lloyd said in the same steady, commanding tone he used to lead his teammates in the grand finals. "I am still standing here. No one has to die."
The young man closed his eyes for a moment, focusing his mind to summon the system that had just awakened in his head.
"Open [Mini-Map] window."
Upon his command, a semi-transparent blue holographic screen flashed into his field of vision. A bird's-eye view of Verdant territory appeared, as detailed as a satellite image.
Lloyd focused on the northern edge of the map. About fifteen glowing red dots were cutting through the pitch-black fog that the system called the [Fog of War] . They were rushing straight toward the village at a terrifying speed.
"At this speed... in less than ten minutes, they'll break through the wooden palisade and reach the center of the village," Lloyd muttered to himself, his jaw clenched tight.
He tore his gaze away from the threat and checked his own resources. Thirty-four green dots on the map were frantically running around aimlessly, indicating the absolute chaos among the villagers.
Lloyd mentally focused on those green dots, and a small info window popped up.
[Global Unit Data: Verdant Villagers]
Count: 34 Units
Average Status: Extremely Terrified, Chronically Malnourished
Equipped Weapons: Broken Hoes, Harvesting Sickles, Wooden Clubs
Estimated Combat Power: 2/100
"Damn it..." the former World Champion cursed softly. "This is worse than Nightmare mode. You want me to use level-one peasants with chipped hoes to fight monsters? Even a Bronze-tier player wouldn't let their base get this pathetic!"
Throb!
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his temples as if pierced by a massive needle. Lloyd staggered back slightly, having to lean against the manor's doorframe to steady himself.
He glanced at the status bar in the bottom left corner. His 'Mana' had dropped from 15 to 13 units in less than two minutes!
This was the ironclad rule of this world, a harsh reminder from the original body's memories... all power comes with a cost. The scouting and processing skills of the [RTS Master System] weren't free to use. It drained his body's mana the entire time the screen was active.
"If my mana drops below 20%, the body enters a severely weakened state..." Lloyd bit his lip until it nearly bled. "And if I force it until I get mana burn, I'll be a vegetable for three days. I need to close the map."
He flicked his hand slightly, dismissing the [Mini-Map] screen. The headache subsided a bit, but the actual situation in front of him hadn't improved at all.
Lloyd turned and gripped the messenger boy's shoulder, squeezing slightly to snap him out of his panic. "Tim, listen to me carefully. Run to the central village square. Tell the women, the elderly, and the children to hide in the basement of the old Forest God Shrine. As for any men who still have some strength, tell them to gather at the northern palisade. Understand?"
"B-But My Lord, we can't fight them! The northern palisade is completely rotted!" Tim argued, his voice trembling.
"I didn't say go fight, I said prepare to buy time!" Lloyd barked sternly. His gaze was so sharp that Tim froze. "Go, now! If you're too slow, your little sister in the middle of the village won't survive!"
The mention of his sister made Tim flinch. The boy wiped his tears and nodded furiously. "I-I understand!"
As Tim took off sprinting at top speed, shouting all the way, Lloyd didn't waste a second. He half-walked, half-jogged straight toward the farmland at the northern edge of the village.
'Sitting behind a desk commanding green and red dots only works in a game,' Lloyd thought to himself, panting heavily. His body was protesting violently. 'In the real world, if the Mini-Map says the combat power is 2, I have to go down and see with my own eyes why it's so pitifully low... A leader who isn't on the frontline during a crisis will see their army shatter before swords are even drawn.'
The Hidden Gem
It took nearly five minutes for Lloyd to drag his gasping body to the northern wooden palisade.
What he saw was pure pandemonium. Dry dust clouded the air. About ten able-bodied men were literally running into each other. Some were trying to haul logs and sandbags to barricade the broken fence, but they were doing it in such a panic that materials were scattered everywhere.
"You idiot! I told you to use that log to block the gap on the right corner! Are you deaf!?"
The fierce shout of a middle-aged villager tore through the chaos. His face was drenched in sweat and a terror that was ready to explode into rage at any second.
Lloyd stopped in his tracks, his eyes looking past the crowd toward the source of the voice. The sight made the former tactician narrow his eyes with keen interest.
Among the frail and weak villagers, one young man stood out conspicuously. His physique was abnormally massive, easily standing over 185 centimeters tall. Underneath his ragged clothes, dense, bulky muscles bulged from years of hard labor. He had a choppy, short dark-brown haircut, and a large, prominent cross-shaped scar marked his left arm.
That young man was carrying a massive wooden log—one that would normally require two men to lift—on his shoulders all by himself!
It was a weight no normal person could carry and walk with, yet he bore it with steady steps, as if he were carrying a basket of vegetables.
"I told you to put it down right here! Frank, you meathead, do you only ever use your brawn and never your brain!?" Another villager ran up in a huff, forcefully shoving the giant young man's shoulder. However, the one who stumbled backward was the pusher himself.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
'Frank' didn't utter a single word in retaliation. He simply set the log down precisely where he was told, quietly bent down to roll up his frayed sleeves, and turned around to carry more sandbags from a pile on the ground.
"Look at him. Monsters are about to break in and slaughter us, and he still has that deadpan face, completely unfazed," the first man grumbled, spitting on the ground. "Aside from ox-like strength and absolute stupidity, this guy is utterly useless!"
Lloyd stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a tree, rapidly assessing the situation.
"Fear always makes people look for a scapegoat..." Lloyd muttered to himself. "They're cursing him out to vent their stress because they know they're going to die."
But what caught Lloyd's attention wasn't the villagers' behavior. It was 'Frank's'.
This hulking young man was being verbally abused and worked like a slave, yet he showed no signs of anger. Instead, he systematically and quietly continued hauling materials to reinforce the defenses. His eyes weren't vacant like a fool's; they were the eyes of someone constantly observing his surroundings.
Most importantly... his breathing rate barely changed, even while carrying such massive weight.
'With physical strength like that... there's no way the system evaluated his combat power at just a 2,' the esports athlete's instincts whispered to Lloyd. 'The numbers on the Mini-Map might be evaluating their current status—unarmed and lacking motivation—but it isn't calculating the true potential hidden within!'
Lloyd took a deep breath. He had to find out who this young man was.
"System..." Lloyd focused his eyes entirely on Frank's figure, bracing himself for the impending sting in his temples. "Activate [Inspect] skill!"
Ding!
The system's acknowledgment chimed in his head. But this time, the holographic window that popped up and overlaid the young man's body wasn't the dull blue of the Mini-Map.
It was a brilliant, radiant golden data window, emitting a faint aura that only Lloyd could see!
The former world champion's eyes darted across the text rapidly. Suddenly, his dark blue eyes widened so far they almost popped out of his skull. His breath hitched in his throat.
[Target Unit Data]
Name: Frank Howarth
Race: Human
Age: 19
Current Class: Village Peasant (Level 5)
[Hidden Talent]
Rank: SSR
Talent Name: Holy Vanguard
Status: [Locked - Unawakened]
[Base Parameters]
Strength: 85 (Exceeds the natural cap for humans of the same age)
Endurance: 78
Mana: 10
Intelligence: 65 (Hidden: Tactical Acumen)
[SSR Talent Details]
Upon awakening, this unit will acquire the [Steel Bastion] skill, increasing personal defense and the defense of all allies within a 10-meter radius by 300%.
[Awakening Conditions]
The unit suffers from a severe lack of self-confidence due to societal suppression.
Condition: Must receive 'Trust' in a leadership capacity, OR face an 'Extreme Pressure Situation' while being commanded by a superior who inherently trusts him.
Lloyd practically stopped breathing. The hand he had braced against a tree trunk was trembling—not from fear, but from a dense, overwhelming excitement that made his chest feel like it would burst.
"S... SSR..." he groaned in the back of his throat. His previously calm, mature eyes were now blazing with the fiery passion of a hardcore gamer. "This is a literal SSR-tier unit! A Tanker class with an AoE defense buff, and base physical stats that break the ceiling even before awakening!"
This was god-tier luck, better than pulling the banner character on a single gacha roll!
Amidst the ruins of a territory no one wanted, amongst level 1 peasants holding chipped hoes, Lloyd had discovered the most flawless diamond hidden in the mud.
He looked through the golden window back at Frank. The giant youth was still being cursed at and blamed by the others, yet he kept his head down and continued working in silence.
Lloyd understood it now... In the eyes of a world that measured a person's worth by their 'Mana' capacity, a youth with a mere 10 points of mana like Frank was naturally branded as worthless trash, a manual laborer no one would spare a second glance.
But from the perspective of an [RTS Master System] tactician, Frank was the most crucial puzzle piece! He was a Lord-tier unit who would become the absolute foundation of his entire future army!
Ugh...!
His excitement lasted only a fraction of a second before a violent headache assaulted his brain once again. This time it was so severe that he accidentally bit his lip until it bled, the metallic tang of blood touching the tip of his tongue.
Lloyd glanced at the status bar in the corner of his vision.
[Remaining Mana: 11/100]
"Dammit, an advanced appraisal skill eats more mana than opening the map...?"
The young man hastily flicked the mental switch to turn off the [Inspect] window. He took deep breaths to maintain his fading consciousness. The young Baron's body was simply too frail to handle continuous power usage. If his mana dropped into the single digits, he might completely shock out and faint.
The Choice
Awoooo!
A chilling wolf's howl echoed from the dense forest ahead. This time, it wasn't echoing from afar; it was so loud that the vibrations could be felt through the ground.
Dry leaves at the forest's edge swirled into the air. Dust kicked up as if a miniature storm was brewing behind the large trees.
"Th-They're here! Run! Run away!"
The villager who had just been yelling at Frank dropped his wooden club. His face contorted in absolute terror as he spun around, preparing to flee back toward the manor.
"Where are you running, you coward!? Your wife and kids are back there!" Another villager grabbed him by the collar.
Driven by sheer panic, the two began throwing punches at each other. The half-built palisade beside them collapsed, leaving a massive, gaping hole in the defense.
Lloyd watched the chaos unfold with ice-cold eyes. He wasn't angry at the villagers. They were just peasants, not soldiers. Breaking formation when faced with a mortal threat was basic human psychology.
But what truly impressed Lloyd was 'Frank'.
Amidst the villagers fighting amongst themselves and fleeing, the giant youth simply walked over and picked up a rusted pitchfork from the ground. He stepped forward, silently placing himself directly in the gaping hole of the collapsed wooden fence.
No rallying cries. No signs of fear. There was only a broad back standing tall like a human wall. Frank dropped into a defensive stance, his eyes locked unflinchingly on the darkness of the tree line.
"This guy... he intends to die right here with this broken fence just to buy time for the others," Lloyd murmured.
The youth who had been called stupid and worthless his entire life was the only one choosing to stand and protect the very people who abused him. This was undoubtedly the 'Locked Potential' the system had described.
Snap... Rustle!
The sharp sound of breaking branches echoed from the forest's edge. Dozens of imposing dark shadows began to emerge from behind the bushes. Dozens of pairs of blood-red eyes stared menacingly into Verdant Village. The low, guttural growls of the mutated wolves rumbled like the voice of the Grim Reaper itself.
Even without opening the Mini-Map, Lloyd knew instantly... those red dots had reached the perimeter!
"In less than two minutes, they will lunge in and tear everyone here to shreds," Lloyd evaluated the situation in his head with chilling calm.
The former World Champion's brain was working in overdrive, pushing past his body's pain limit. He had to make a choice... and he had to make it now!
If he wanted a decisive victory, he had to recruit Frank and 'Awaken' the youth's SSR talent. But the condition was to earn Frank's 'Trust' as a leader.
Lloyd looked at Frank's broad back... How could a young man who had been trampled on by this world his entire life open up and trust a strange noble like him in less than two minutes? It required conversation, timing, and persuasion.
Time... was the one thing Lloyd had completely run out of!
If he decided to walk up to Frank and spend time trying to win over this SSR unit, what if Frank didn't respond? What if the system's conditions weren't met?
The result: the remaining villagers would scatter, the defenses would crumble, and the wolves would tear through and rip both him and Frank to pieces—all because he didn't spend that precious time organizing a defensive formation.
But on the other hand...
If he abandoned the risk of awakening Frank, ignored the legendary unit, and instead chose to yell at the ten villagers to stop fighting, line up, and play it 'safe' with their hoes and sickles...
The chances of winning with the strength of level 1 peasants were as slim as finding a needle in a haystack. They might buy a minute or two, but it meant he would have to stand by and watch his villagers get bitten to death one by one until the monsters exhausted themselves.
And that was absolutely unacceptable to an RTS World Champion like him!
"Do I go all-in and risk everything to win over an SSR unit in the final two minutes... or do I play it safe, commanding trash units to their inevitable doom just to buy time for my own survival!?"
Cold sweat trickled down the side of Lloyd's face. His breathing grew increasingly shallow and rapid.
The heavy thud of paws signaled the pack of mutated wolves charging out of the tree line! Baring fangs dripping with thick saliva, they launched themselves straight toward the gap in the fence where Frank stood entirely alone!
Lloyd clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
"This godforsaken territory... won't even give me a second to think, will it!?"
(End of Chapter 2)