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Today was relatively a slow day with only the Jasmine incident making their day more interesting. The defenders tended to their wounds in the infirmary and counted the casualties. None of them are harpies' related injuries. They were relieved to find that there were only four injured with minor wounds and no one had died. It was a small victory, but it was an achievement nonetheless. They knew that they had made progress in their fight against the harpies.

Aden was admitted to the infirmary directly after he succeeded in bringing Jasmine back. The infirmary stood as a sanctuary for the sick and wounded, a place where the healing arts are practiced amidst the backdrop of stone walls and flickering torchlight. As Aden entered, the air was heavy with the scent of herbs and poultices, mingled with the faint aroma of burning incense meant to ward off malevolent spirits and cleanse the space of illness.

The infirmary was a large, open hall with high ceilings supported by sturdy wooden beams. Narrow windows allow shafts of daylight to filter in, casting warm pools of illumination on the flagstone floor below. A hearth crackles with flames, providing both warmth and a means to boil water for medicinal purposes.

Around the perimeter of the room, wooden cots are arranged in neat rows, each one draped with clean linens and blankets. Nearby, shelves are lined with jars and bottles containing various remedies—dried herbs, salves, and tinctures—all meticulously labeled and organized by the resident apothecary.

Now, No one was in the infirmary except Aden and Laura. Even Maeda survived the rescue mission unscathed.

The Sisters of Aione were skilled healers. They were Laura, Indry, and Agnes. Laura had been a sister of Aione before she married Eugene the baker, and she was grateful for the care and attention that the healer was giving her.

As Laura tended to Aden, she watched with concern. Aden had tried to act strong, but she could see the bruises and cut wounds on his back from the harpy attack. They weren't deep, but they were long and needed to be taken care of.

"Does it hurt?" Laura asked, her voice soft and gentle. Her soft hands comforted Aden.

Aden shrugged, trying to hide the pain. "It's nothing," he acted tough, his voice strained.

But Laura could see through his facade. She knew that he was in pain, and she wanted to help him.

"Let me help you," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "I know a thing or two about tending to wounds."

Aden hesitated, his eyes scanning her face. He could see the concern and compassion in her eyes, and he knew that she was genuine in her offer to help.

"Okay," he said, his voice softening. "Thank you."

Laura smiled, her eyes gleaming with warmth. She began to clean and dress his wounds, her hands gentle and skilled.

As she worked, Aden felt a sense of comfort and relief. He knew that he was in good hands and that he would be okay. He would be ready for the next task, collecting arrows and bolts scattered throughout the village.

⁕⁕⁕

Aden just got out of the infirmary and stepped into the courthouse's front yard. He glanced toward the west. The sun dipped below the horizon, the harpies retreated into the darkness, and their screeches of another failure faded into the night. The battle of survival was over for today and a sense of relief washed over the response party and the villagers.

The Jasmine rescue task went well. Another day another win. The townspeople were still gathered inside the courthouse's main hall and front yard. It was very convenient for the captain for he didn't have the need to assemble the townfolks and the volunteers anymore.

The Captain of the Wyvern Imperial Reconnaissance Knights stepped forward in front of the courthouse's main entrance.

"Men!" Captain Willem shouted. "The battle is over for today and we have won once again. Still, we have to prepare what's come tomorrow."

The people in the courthouse murmured. listening attentively to the Captain. The Captain had his point, this was just another temporary winning until the harpies all but migrated to the south and the Imperial reinforcement arrived.

"We survived today, we will survive tomorrow, and the day after." The Captain carried on his speech. "Now, spread out and collect the rest of the arrows and bolts, search every inch of the village for any of them!"

The volunteers, along with the village militias, spread out wide across the village, their torches and candle lamps illuminating the streets. They were on a mission to collect any usable arrows and bolts scattered throughout the village.

The Captain's speech boosted their morale. After what Aden and Maeda did today, they have faith that the volunteers were not merely meat shields for the Imperial knights against the harpies.

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With careful steps, they combed through the nooks and crannies, searching for any arrows that had been released during the day's battle. Each arrow found was a small victory, a valuable resource that would ensure they wouldn't run out of ammunition anytime soon.

The torchlight flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls as they meticulously gathered the arrows. They knew the importance of conserving their resources, especially in the face of an enemy as relentless as the harpies.

It was a tedious and time-consuming task, but the defenders knew that it was crucial to their survival. They couldn't afford to run out of arrows, not when the harpies were still a constant threat.

As they scavenged, they talked amongst themselves, their voices filled with a mix of relief and exhaustion. They knew that they had fought a hard battle, but they also knew that there were many more challenges ahead.

The scene crackled with a palpable sense of urgency as volunteers and village men toiled side by side, their shared determination to defend their home etched onto every dirt-streaked face. Though the tasks were arduous, a steadfast camaraderie buoyed their spirits - they understood that the fate of their village rested upon the efforts of this disparate yet unified band.

In the riverway district, Marcus and Victor scoured the rubble-strewn streets with an almost frantic intensity. Victor's gentle hands deftly sorted through piles of debris, extracting any arrows that could be salvaged and repurposed.

With each precious arrow recovered, their grim expressions eased ever so slightly. They were taking back control, preparing to make a stand against the encroaching threat. Emboldened, the two pressed on, scouring every inch of their assigned sector.

Meanwhile, on the south side of the old courthouse, the trio of Maeda, Ethan, and Aden picked through the remnants of the abandoned market district. The once-vibrant stalls and alehouses now lay in shattered ruin, echoing the ravages of the recent attacks.

From the riverway to the market, every arrow retrieved was a tiny victory, steeling their collective resolve. United, they would ensure their village's survival – or they would go down fighting to the last.

As they continued their search, the night air grew colder, a reminder that winter was approaching. They knew that the first snowflake hitting the soil would bring its own set of challenges. But for now, they had enough arrows to defend the village, to hold the line until that time came.

⁕⁕⁕

In a short time, Marcus and Victor collected enough arrows and bolts for the next day. They still had spare time to spend before they went back and take dinner.

On the street of Riverway, both former smugglers huddled together, their breaths visible in the chilly air. They talked in hushed tones, their voices barely audible over the sound of the river flowing nearby. Marcus spoke of the hideouts used by poachers and smugglers to smuggle illegal merchandise. He believed that there must be one in this village, given its proximity to the seaport.

The chilling breeze grew colder as the night went on, but Marcus and Victor were undeterred. They huddled together, their breaths visible in the frigid air, as they talked about the hideouts used by poachers and smugglers to smuggle illegal merchandise.

"I'm telling you, there's gotta be one in this village," Marcus said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "It's too close to the seaport not to have one."

Victor nodded, his eyes scanning the darkened streets, his hands picking up two arrows lying on the street. "Yeah, but we gotta be careful. The villagers are on high alert, what with the harpy attacks and all."

Marcus scoffed. "The villagers? They don't know the first thing about smuggling. They're too busy worrying about their own skins to pay attention to what's going on under their noses."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "And what about the harpies? They're not exactly friendly to smugglers, you know."

Marcus waved a dismissive hand. "The harpies are just a minor inconvenience. We know how to avoid them. And besides, the rewards of smuggling far outweigh the risks."

Victor hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I don't know, Marcus. It's a dangerous game we're playing."

Marcus grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's what makes it so thrilling, my friend. The danger, the risk, the reward. It's what separates us from the rest of the world."

Victor sighed, his resolve weakening. "I guess you're right. But we gotta be careful. We don't want to get caught."

Marcus clapped him on the back, his grin widening. "Don't worry, my friend. We're the best hands in the business. No one can catch us."

And with that, they set off into the night, their hearts pounding with excitement and anticipation. They knew that the risks were high, but the rewards were even higher. And as they navigated the darkened streets, they felt a sense of thrill and adventure that only the world of smuggling could provide.

"It looks like it is enough for tonight." Marcus put the last arrow inside a sack of dozens of arrows. they scavenged the riverway residential area to the edge of the village.

Marcus and Victor stood by the riverbank with two sacks full of hundreds of arrows, They looked out across the water, searching for any signs of something out of the ordinary. While they were looking for arrows, they talked about the possibility of poachers or smugglers using a hideout somewhere in the area.

The village was located above the seaport and near the forest where exotic beings such as harpies and wyverns roamed around. A young, unharmed harpy in the slave market can buy one a small castle, and wyvern's eggs are highly sought after by collectors and are priced accordingly.

Victor's eyes scanned the river for any sign of unusual activity. "Speaking of a safe house where would they hide it?"

Marcus thought for a moment, his mind racing with possibilities. "Follow me," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I have a feeling I know where they might be hiding."

With that, Marcus led the way, his instincts guiding him towards the river flowing to the seaport, its winding path leading to the sea, and Marcus wondered how the smugglers used the waterfall and river for transporting their illicit goods. He knew this must be how they could keep their location hidden until now.

His realization of this connection only spurred him on more to find their hideout, and soon enough his efforts were rewarded, an abandoned house at the edge of the village by the river.

Marcus and Victor exchanged a knowing look, their instincts telling them that they were on the right track. They approached the house cautiously, their senses on high alert.

"See, what did I tell you?" Marcus whispered to Victor.

"Nice," Victor appraised his smuggler friend in an excited tone.

"Shh, Quite." Marcus "They might be still here."

They approached the desolate house. Marcus and Victor noticed signs of activity that predated their arrival. Footprints in the hardened dirt, haphazardly discarded items, and other traces all indicated that this had been a hangout spot for smugglers in the past.

⁕⁕⁕