They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World-Chapter 137: We’re Not Done Yet!

{Third Person POV - Elsewhere in Oakmere}

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A young woman gripped the rusted scythe tighter, her palms slick with sweat despite the cold night air seeping through the cracks in the wooden walls.

She was maybe twenty-two, with dark brown hair pulled back in a practical braid that had started to come loose hours ago.

Her face was sun-bronzed from years working the fields, with high cheekbones and honey-brown eyes that were currently locked on the closed door with absolute, unwavering focus. She wore simple clothing, a worn tunic and pants, the kind that could take abuse, and work boots that had seen better days.

The same clothes she’d been wearing when everything had gone to hell.

There were four others with her in the small house, pressed against the walls, breathing hard, weapons gripped in white-knuckled hands.

The space was cramped, barely fifteen feet across, with a single room that had been someone’s home until an hour ago when they’d evacuated to the shelter.

A cold hearth. Overturned furniture. The smell of old smoke and fear.

"You think this will work, Tessa?"

She turned her head to see a lean young man with dusty black hair and a perpetually worried expression that had only gotten worse tonight.

He was holding a wood axe, but his hands were shaking so badly the blade trembled visibly in the dim lamplight filtering through the shuttered window.

His eyes were wide with barely controlled panic, darting between the closed door and the others in the room.

"I mean, what are we even doing here?" His voice rose slightly, fear bleeding through. "We’re farmers, not... not soldiers! That noble kid just pointed at us and said ’go there, do this’ like we know what we’re doing, but we don’t! We’re going to die in here and—"

"Rowan," one of the others hissed. "Shut up."

But he kept talking, the words spilling out faster, his panic infectious.

"We should’ve stayed in the shelter. We should’ve... what if they break through? What if there’s more than one? What if—"

Tessa said nothing.

Mostly because she didn’t have answers.

She didn’t know what they were doing here either. Didn’t know if this insane plan would work. Didn’t know if they’d survive the next ten minutes, let alone the night.

Truth be told, she thought, her fingers adjusting their grip on the scythe’s worn wooden handle, I’m just a common village farm girl.

She’d spent her whole life working her family’s fields, harvesting wheat and barley, helping with livestock during spring births, learning to mend fences and patch roofs. The most violence she’d ever witnessed was her father slaughtering pigs for winter meat, and even that had made her queasy the first few times.

Oakmere had always been peaceful. Quiet. Safe.

Until it wasn’t.

She’d never trained for combat. Never held a weapon with the intent to kill another living thing. Had no idea if she even could when the moment came, or if she’d freeze and die with the scythe still clutched uselessly in her hands.

But Jin wasn’t a nobody like them.

He was a noble. Born into a family where combat training started practically from childhood. Raised to wield blades and command others and make life-or-death decisions without hesitation.

When he’d looked at the village layout, he’d given orders with the calm certainty of someone who’d done this before.

Though, she didn’t know actual conditions of Jin, that this was actually his first time too... but she had assumed, as it was the image of nobles these commoners have.

Tessa’s mind drifted back to few minutes ago, to Jin’s rapid-fire instructions as he’d split their ragtag group into crews.

"You," Jin had said, pointing directly at her. "What’s your name?"

"T-Tessa," she’d stammered.

"You’re in charge of Crew One." His eyes had scanned the others. "Take four people. Position yourselves in that house," he’d pointed to the building they now occupied, "Near the breach point."

"What? I can’t... I’m not—"

"You argued with me before," Jin had interrupted, his tone matter-of-fact. "That means you can think under pressure and you’re not afraid to speak up. That’s more leadership than half the people here."

Before she could protest further, he’d continued.

"You won’t have to fight head-on. Not like I will..."

Just as she was replaying his words in her mind, Rowan’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"Tessa! Tessa, you hear that?"

She tensed immediately, her entire body going rigid.

The scythe felt impossibly heavy in her hands.

She nodded slowly, listening.

At first, just the distant sounds of battle, roars, screams, the clash of weapons against claws and teeth.

Then closer.

Much closer.

Heavy footsteps. The scrape of claws...

Something was coming.

Sweat formed on her temples, running down the side of her face despite the cold. Her heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat.

"Everyone get ready," she whispered, her voice barely audible even in the silence of the room.

The four others shifted, raising their weapons, two more axes, a pickaxe, a long knife meant for butchering livestock.

The footsteps got louder.

Closer.

Then a roar, cut short by a wet, meaty sound.

The door exploded inward, torn off its hinges.

A massive shape flew through the opening, crashing into the far wall with bone-breaking force.

A dire boar, easily the size of a cart horse, with tusks as long as her forearm and matted fur covering a body thick with muscle.

But it was wounded.

One of its eyes was missing, just a ruined socket weeping blood. Deep gashes ran along its flank, exposing meat and bone beneath. It was limping, favoring its front left leg.

And it was disoriented, shaking its massive head, trying to figure out where it was.

Exactly like Jin had said.

"NOW!" Tessa screamed, her voice cracking with fear and adrenaline.

All five of them charged.

There was no grace to it. No technique. No formation.

Just five terrified people driving improvised weapons into the wounded beast with everything they had.

Tessa’s scythe caught it in the shoulder, the blade sinking deep. She pulled back and struck again, and again, each impact sending shocks up her arms but she didn’t stop.

Rowan’s axe came down on its spine with a wet crunch.

The pickaxe punctured its side, finding something vital that made the beast scream.

The butcher’s knife found its throat, sawing desperately.

The boar thrashed, trying to fight back, its remaining tusk catching one of them across the arm with a spray of blood.

But it was dying.

Already weakened from whatever Jin had done to it outside, now overwhelmed by five people who attacked with the desperate violence of those fighting for their lives.

It took maybe twenty seconds.

Twenty seconds of screaming and stabbing and the horrible wet sounds of metal cutting flesh.

Then it stopped moving.

Went still.

Dead.

Tessa staggered back, her hands shaking so badly the scythe fell from her grip and clattered on the floor.

She was covered in blood. They all were.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. They just stood there, breathing hard, staring at the massive corpse taking up most of the small room.

"We... we did it," someone whispered.

"Holy shit. We actually did it."

Rowan was laughing, a slightly hysterical sound. "It worked! The plan actually worked!"

Tessa sank to her knees, adrenaline still coursing through her but the immediate terror starting to fade into shaky relief.

They’d killed it.

Five farmers with improvised weapons had killed a dire boar.

Outside, she could hear more fighting. More roars. The battle was far from over.

But they’d survived one.

And if they could do it once...

She reached down and picked up the scythe again, her grip steadier now.

"Hold tight guys... we’re not done yet!"