Jonn drew another steadying breath before addressing the obvious truth that hung heavy in the air. "I am a mage, as are some of our fellow villagers. I understand this comes as a shock to many of you, but I ask only for your willingness to hear us out."

His voice carried across the gathered crowd, steady and sincere. "Our powers were hidden not to deceive you, but to protect our community. The mere presence of mages attracts danger like moths to a flame. Today's troubles would be nothing compared to what we'd face if our abilities became widely known. This isn't meant to frighten you, but it's the stark reality we face. Moreover, we wish to avoid being treated differently. We remain the same people you knew yesterday – just with capabilities you hadn't seen before."

A heavy silence blanketed the gathering as his words sank in. Some faces showed understanding. Their owners grimly knew today's attack might have been worse had the enemy known of their magical defenders. Some, however, couldn't hide their fear. Their faces were haunted by memories of the brutal Third Magic War.

That conflict had done more than just ravage the land; it had confirmed Valorian's centuries-old fears about mages. Before that final war, mages had strutted through the world like living gods. Their whims became law. They seized whatever they fancied, ignoring everyone around them. Mages had earned a notorious reputation in several states. They were cruel slave masters, treating non-magical folk as insignificant specks.

Indeed, this very arrogance had been one of the primary sparks that ignited the last war. The mages' complete disregard for their world, driven by greed, political machinations, rivalry, and vengeance, had escalated tensions across the continent until conflict became inevitable, with every faction turning against the others.

Yet the Third Magic War wasn't an isolated incident. Centuries earlier, the Second Magic War had scarred the land. Nearly a millennium ago, the First Magic War had left its own indelible mark of destruction on Valorian. All these conflicts shared the same root cause: mages' nature!

The mortals' fear and distrust of mages wasn't recent. It was the product of a thousand years of bitter experience!

Now, faced with the truth about the Eternal Village's leaders, some villagers felt their world tilting. Their ingrained wariness clashed with their experiences of those they had lived alongside.

Elia stepped forward decisively, sensing the unease rippling through the crowd. "I too am a mage," she declared, her gaze steady and earnest as she addressed her fellow villagers. "When I first awakened after Jonn, I shared your apprehension. But he told me something that day that changed my perspective. Being a mage doesn't inherently make us evil. Mana is as natural to our world as the air we breathe. It's not the power itself that's wrong, but how one chooses to wield it."

Her voice grew stronger with conviction. "Look at what we do here. We use our abilities, just as Jonn and Eliot demonstrated today, to protect and nurture the Eternal Village. Judge us not by the dark history of Valorian's mages, but by our actions within these walls."

Petyr watched Elia and Eliot, narrowing his eyes as he thought about something. 'Is that why old Hewet always favored feeding and educating the three of them?'

Petyr was no fool. He had followed Hewet for more than 20 years, long enough to have noticed that his leader was no ordinary man. He had never seen Hewet use magic or even talk about it. But some of the old man's peculiar actions had caught his attention.

Petyr wasn't the questioning type, nor was he the most intelligent of his peers. But he had always observed Hewet's decisions, including the way the old man had favored the youngest members of the village. Others thought that this was just to ensure that the younger ones grew up strong and could work for the village. But Petyr knew it wasn't that simple. Hewet had always watched these three, Jonn in particular.

'Everything makes more sense now,' he thought, glancing skyward before voicing the question weighing on his mind. "Are there others like you?"

The three mages exchanged glances before Jonn answered, “Not exactly. We have five others who will become mages soon, but they aren't yet.”

"So mages are emerging within our community?" Lance interjected, his tone curious rather than accusatory. "Are you cultivating this somehow, Village Elder, like you did with the animals?"

"No," Jonn replied, shaking his head. "That's beyond my capabilities. The transformation of an animal into its bestial form is far simpler than the awakening of a mage. Every animal inherently possesses the potential to become a beast, however modest its power might be. But mage potential in humans is far more selective." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "While I'm still studying the nature of mage awakening, I believe it's akin to an innate talent – something I cannot influence.

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"Though I can't create mages," he continued, "it's entirely possible that more will naturally emerge within our village over time."

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Those who now harbored fears about mages might themselves have such potential. It made them think about how to react if they were on the other side of this issue.

Elia released a weighty sigh before addressing the crowd. "While you all must have countless questions, now isn't the time to discuss them. We can address our identities as mages and their implications for the village later, in calmer circumstances." She gestured toward the unconscious mages under Alis's care. "Our immediate concern is these enemies and the battle we've just survived. Our next confrontation will likely bring greater numbers and more powerful mages!"

Even the most fearful of them couldn't help but feel the weight of her words, seeing in their minds a challenge far more dangerous than the Village Elder. As much as Jonn could become a tyrant and a problem, he had only done good for the village so far. Enemies, on the other hand, would do evil against the village without blinking an eye!

"How do we handle this?" Asher asked, his warrior uniform stained with grime and blood. Exhaustion was etched across his features. He saw the mages in the village as a blessing. Without their help in making beasts, today's fight might have ended very differently.

"The Council will determine our next steps," Jonn declared. "For now, focus on clearing the battlefield and gathering enemy resources. I'll interrogate these two and plan with the Council later."

As Petyr, Lance, and Elia nodded their agreement, the guards began dispersing alongside the village's animals. The crowd of onlookers gradually filtered back behind the walls, leaving Jonn to focus on the captured mages.

"They'll live," Alis reported, catching Jonn's questioning look. "You nearly killed them, but they'll be able to answer questions – assuming they cooperate, which I strongly doubt."

"That presents a challenge," Elia said. She studied Jonn, curious about his plan to win their cooperation.

Jonn wasn't sure if his plans would work. He knew that if he killed these two and had no one to use, he would surely face a much larger and stronger group in a few months at most. But with them alive, there were other possibilities available to him, even if they weren't going to be easily put into development.

"We'll see," he mused, beckoning Eliot and Elia closer. "Let's move them to the magic cave."

"Magic cave?" Petyr inquired, one of the few remaining after the crowd's departure.

"A location with a dense mana concentration I discovered nearby. It's where I found these armaments," Jonn explained, gesturing to his armor.

"I see."

"It will serve as their prison. I've set traps that will kill them if they escape my mana seals. I'll work on securing their cooperation – mages are still mortal, after all. Few choose death when better options exist."

Alis watched Jonn carefully, understanding the complexities of leadership decisions like this. Her own experience as a leader made her aware of the risks involved in dealing with such dangerous prisoners.

"Be careful, Jonn," she cautioned as Elia and Eliot got ready to move the prisoners. "These mages are not just powerful. They're also experienced, sly, and dangerous. You're smart, but don't overlook their cunning."

Petyr nodded in agreement. "Be wary. An internal threat could prove far worse than what we're trying to prevent by keeping them alive."

"I understand your concerns," Jonn assured them as he began walking toward the cave, Eliot and Elia following with their unconscious enemies. "The cave's toxic mana prevents non-mages from entering, so you'll have to remain here. We'll brief the Council afterward. Petyr, the village is in your hands for now."

Petyr nodded silently. He stayed with Alis as they watched the trio disappear with their unconscious captives.

Petyr sighed at the corpse-strewn battlefield. Then, he rolled up his sleeves with grim tenacity.

"Time to move, people," he commanded. "Tim, Lance – get those enemy carriages inside. Let old Urian have a look at them. Sarre, Arnald – preserve those enemy insignias. Clean and repair their uniforms and armor if possible. We don't know Jonn's exact plans, but let's keep our options open." He strode toward his waiting horse. "Wy, Asher – you're with me. We're tracking down those scattered horses."

Just like that, the village was back in full swing. Everyone got their assignments and started their work.

It was best to clear the battlefield and dispose of the enemy bodies as soon as possible. So, everyone involved set aside their worries and doubts. They focused on the urgent task at hand.

Jonn and his group went to the magical cave. They soon arrived and descended into the chamber where Count Francus Riverash's coffin and the red mana crystals had been. Now the place was a little different, without the coffin and without the crystals that had already been completely absorbed by Jonn.

The square chamber now bristled with tools of confinement. Chains anchored to the walls and floor. Manacles for wrists and ankles dangled at strategic points. A crude latrine occupied the center, while a water tank lurked in one corner. The spartan arrangements left no doubt about the chamber's new function.

They soon secured the unconscious prisoners to the walls. Jonn inserted his needles, blocking their magical pathways.

While mages and beasts had their differences, all magical beings shared these internal channels for manipulating mana. With proper knowledge and technique, disrupting them could be remarkably simple.

Of course, a ready opponent could resist such blocking attempts, depending on their strength. But these wounded, unconscious captives offered no resistance. In five minutes in the underground prison, Jonn had finished his preparation.

Eliot and Elia maintained a tense silence as they observed the two level 3 mages. The quiet broke when Jonn doused their burned faces with a bucket of cold water.

Their eyes snapped open almost in unison. Their faces shifted from surprise to pain to a dawning understanding of their situation.

"Now that you're awake," Jonn's voice echoed off the stone walls, "let's talk…"