Here's Chapter 4: The Baby of Nightfall
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Chapter 4: The Baby of Nightfall Village
The night was quiet.
Only the occasional chirping of dusk birds and the whispering wind broke the stillness that had settled over Nightfall Village. It was a small place—just over fifty families nestled between the edge of a cursed jungle and the Silvermount Hills. But despite its size, it held secrets older than the mountains themselves.
In the middle of this village, inside a modest but sturdy wooden house, a baby stirred in his sleep.
His name was Liam.
He didn't know that name yet, nor the language of the world around him. All he knew was warmth. A woman's soft humming. A man's sturdy arms. And a giant of an old man who often cradled him as if he held the entire world in his hands.
Liam had no memories of Earth. Not yet.
The System inside him slumbered like a beast beneath the ice, its awakening tied to the growth of his mind. For now, he was just a baby—vulnerable, pure, and utterly unaware of the chaos that existed beyond the peaceful borders of his new home.
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Nightfall Village – Ronan's Home
"Shhh, little one… there, there…" whispered Elira, Liam's mother. Her hands were calloused, her arms strong from years of field work, but her touch was gentle as a feather.
Beside her, Toren, Liam's father, let out a soft sigh. "He's quiet tonight."
"That's because your father's aura knocked out half the animals in the woods again," Elira smirked.
Ronan chuckled from the doorway, his towering frame nearly blocking the moonlight behind him. He looked less like a grandfather and more like a battle-scarred guardian carved from stone.
"I don't care what you say," Ronan said with a sly grin. "This one's special. I can feel it. The mana around him trembles every time he breathes."
Toren raised an eyebrow. "You said that about me, too."
"And I was right. You survived ten seconds against my punch before crying. That's a record in this house."
Elira laughed softly while Toren groaned.
Liam, unaware of the conversation, reached up toward the light above him. His small fingers clenched, his tiny face scrunched in concentration.
A wisp of mana flickered in the air.
Ronan noticed immediately. "...He's already trying to absorb ambient mana?"
Elira paused. "At barely a few months old?"
Toren scratched his head. "Did… did you give him something again, Dad?"
"I gave him a name and a blanket," Ronan replied innocently. "Though… I won't lie. The name came with a minor warding rune. Just in case."
Toren rolled his eyes. "Just in case what? A wyvern decides to eat our roof?"
"Exactly," Ronan said, dead serious.
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Outside – Whispershade Jungle's Edge
Unknown to the villagers, deep within the jungle that kissed the edge of their land, a strange crack appeared in the sky. It pulsed for only a moment—like a heartbeat—and then vanished.
A creature unlike anything this world had seen crawled from the shadows.
Six legs. Glowing eyes. An exoskeleton that shimmered with acidic green.
It looked up toward the distant light of the village.
And it clicked.
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Three Months Later
Liam had grown quickly. Not in size, but in awareness.
He could now recognize voices, feel emotions more clearly, and had even begun to respond with little grunts and giggles that made Elira melt like butter every time. He loved being cradled by his grandfather the most. Something about Ronan's presence calmed him.
Unbeknownst to the family, Liam's system had slowly begun to hum in the background.
> [System Fragment Booting...]
[Monitoring Host Development.]
[Protective Protocols Active – Threat Radius: 0.3 miles.]
Ronan wasn't wrong—Liam was absorbing mana. Slowly, instinctively, like a plant turning toward the sun.
Every night, the old man sat outside with Liam in his arms, pointing up at the stars.
"See that one?" Ronan would say, voice low. "That's the Tear of Zareth. They say the gods cried when they created our world… and that was the last tear."
Liam cooed.
"You probably think I'm just an old fool rambling, huh? That's okay. One day, you'll understand."
Ronan's eyes grew distant.
"This world… it's changing. They say demons have returned in the southern lands. Mechanical golems were spotted rising from the Sea of Rust. And the jungle…" He turned his gaze toward the darkness nearby.
"It whispers at night again."
He looked down at the baby in his arms.
"Whatever you are, boy… whoever sent you… I'll protect you. I swear on my life."
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Village Center – Council Gathering
That night, the elders met under the old tree.
"Spotted claw marks on the north side," muttered Elder Nara, a one-eyed hunter. "Not from anything native. I've lived seventy years here—never seen tracks like this."
"Could be a new beast," another offered.
"No. It didn't walk… it crawled. Like an insect, but too large. Chitin armor. Acid burns."
Silence followed.
Then a voice broke it. Calm. Absolute.
"Prepare the barrier spells. Increase patrols. And keep your children inside at night."
Ronan stepped forward. "And if anything makes it through…"
His eyes glowed faintly.
"…I'll handle it."
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Inside Liam's Soulscape – System Core
The System stirred.
> [Threat Detected Near Host Territory.]
[Defense Capabilities Currently: None.]
[Summoning Functions Locked.]
[Host Mental Age Inadequate – Estimated Activation: Age 3]
[Observation Mode: ACTIVE.]
The Shepherd System was a relic—an experimental divine construct. Unlike other systems that merely granted abilities, it evolved with its host.
But even it could sense the coming storm.
For now, Liam would remain unaware. Innocent. But the day would come when he'd be forced to choose:
To flee like a child...
Or stand like a Shepherd.
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