The villagers closest to the enemy felt chills run down their spines and weakness in their bodies. The group’s morale dropped significantly at the red-eyed man’s words, drawing attention in his direction as the wolves advanced.
One of the creatures moved forward, its eyes glittering in the moonlight, mouth open as it prepared to grab one of the targets and tear a chunk out of the body of one of the humans ahead.
The smell of blood hung in the air, but the creatures’ desire was even stronger. The five wolves threatened the villagers there to protect Jonn’s plantation field.
Before anyone else could be harmed, Eliot’s arrow finally found its mark, piercing the skin of one wolf and penetrating from the middle of its back to the white creature’s ribcage.
The wolf faltered, howling in pain like a wounded dog, drawing the attention of its companions.
Three of the four wolves reached their targets, who fought back as the creatures bit into their flesh.
“Aaaaagh! Damn you! I’ll kill you!” shouted one villager as Lance fell backward onto the ground in a cold sweat, facing death.
The creature looked him in the eye and moved to bite his face. Lance closed his eyes, imagining it was his end.
A second passed, then two, and the bite to the face, or at least the neck, never came. Instead, the wolf’s heavy body slowly collapsed over Lance.
‘What happened?’
When he opened his eyes, Lance saw a 55-centimeter arrow driven into the creature’s skull!
Even the red-eyed enemy turned his gaze toward the person responsible—a boy with short brown hair, holding a longbow, with only one arrow left in his quiver and another in his hands.
Lance’s eyes widened as he realized Eliot had just saved his life, even though he was over 60 meters away at the time.
The enemy, so daunting a moment ago, changed his expression and ran into Jonn’s field. “Be quick. It’s time to go!”
Strangely for the group of villagers, the mage no longer seemed willing to follow through on his threats from a moment ago.
“Kill all the wolves! Don’t let them escape!” Asher reached the village after leaving Eliot behind.
He ran with his sword in hand, aiming at one wolf wounded by Eliot’s first arrow. While he was doing so, trying to boost the morale of his people, Eliot fired the penultimate of his arrows.
He guided the arrow with his eyes, making it cross the space between him and the third of his targets fast enough to foil the creature’s plans.
Gaining a taste for archery, Eliot picked up the last of his weapons and took aim at the mage. “You’ll be the first mage I’m going to kill.”
The hooded, red-eyed man, about to reach for the crystals he desperately wanted, sensed something was wrong and jumped to the side. “Basil, protect me!”
The fifth and largest of the wolves released its grip on Eliot’s fellow villager’s leg and leaped toward its master, running as the third wolf succumbed to Eliot’s previous arrow.
Asher and the uninjured men surrounded the fourth wolf when they heard a pained “aw” from the direction of the enemy mage.
The wolf had sacrificed itself for its master, acting as a living shield in front of the red-eyed man just as Eliot’s arrow was about to hit the mage. The arrow pierced the creature from right rib to left, puncturing a major artery and causing the animal’s immediate death.
The red-haired man felt the blood of his wolf cover him and was pinned by the animal’s body to the spot where he had fallen, just 2 meters from reaching the mana crystals.
“Noooo!”
His cry sounded desperate, no longer like the powerful, menacing mage he had been moments ago.
Eliot reached his companions as Asher made the move that took the last wolf’s life, piercing the head of the creature surrounded by armed enemies.
The last of the wolves fell with wounds on all sides, pierced by swords, pitchforks, and even hoes. The villagers fought back with whatever they had at their disposal, whether weapons or farming tools.
Lance escaped from under a wolf’s body, getting away with only minor injuries from his near-death experience. His only injury was a claw cut on one of his thighs.
He looked around and saw that, besides the man who had lost an arm, three of his companions were seriously injured. One had almost lost a leg to a wolf, another had cuts that soaked his clothes with blood, and the last was kneeling, holding his neck with both hands. A wolf had pierced Adie’s throat before Eliot’s arrows saved the village.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Lance clenched his fists as he rushed to Adie’s side. “Eliot, take care of the enemy. He seems immobile.”
Eliot picked up a weapon from the ground and soon stood beside the red-haired man, pointing the tip of his spear at the enemy’s throat.
Seeing his opponent’s pallor in front of his weapon, Eliot realized something that was obvious to anyone. “You’re not a mage like you claimed to be.”
“What?” Lance turned his eyes towards Eliot and the enemy, while Asher approached Adie.
“Eliot, what are you saying? He’s not a mage?”
“What kind of mage is afraid of a mere farmer with no magical strength?” Eliot pointed out the obvious.
“But why would he lie to us?” Lance asked, his face turning red with anger. The idea that an ordinary person had caused them such losses was far worse than the idea that it had all been caused by a mage!
“What should we do?” Eliot ignored the looks directed at him, more interested in resolving the situation at hand. Jonn was outside looking for Petyr. They needed to end the situation and search for the villagers in danger around the Barren Hills of Deepshadow.
Asher looked at Lance, the oldest member of the village present at the moment, who should decide things in Jonn and Elia’s absence.
It wasn’t safe yet, so Elia was hiding with the other villagers.
Lance took a deep breath as he stood next to Adie. “Tie him up and take him to the barn. We’ll hold him until the Village Elder returns. He’ll decide what to do.”
“What about the wounded men?” Asher asked with concern.
Adie looked at his companions one last time, barely able to see his surroundings. He didn’t want to die, but he knew he wouldn’t last long.
“Don’t waste your time on me. Take care of the village. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
When the black-haired man dressed as a farmer spoke his last words, he removed his hand from his neck, allowing his blood to flow.
The people around watched with sorrow, but didn’t stop him. A neck injury like his was fatal. Some died instantly, others died a little more slowly. Either way, his fate had been sealed when the claws of one creature pierced him in such a sensitive spot.
----------------------------------------
Just over an hour after Eliot and Asher reached the village, Jonn and Wy stopped at the top of the hill closest to the village, from where they could see the houses scattered irregularly around the area.
They saw the bodies of three wolves and Tedric wrapped in Beri’s nets near to the village greenhouse, along with five other wolf bodies and several trails of blood near the land Jonn had marked out.
The two looked at each other and understood the situation. They had arrived too late to help. Now they could only follow to where their companions were.
They spotted them around the barn, with most of the houses still closed and the small population hidden away.
Jonn and Wy spotted Lance overseeing things and went straight to him to find out what had happened.
“Village Elder…” Lance stopped in front of Jonn and Wy, holding up a bloodstained handkerchief. “I fear that the dark hands of death have passed through our little community tonight.”
“What happened?" Jonn asked.
“Apart from Tedric, whom Eliot and Asher brought back to the village, Adie died in battle. Frideric lost his arm, while Owin and Rulf will be fine after some rest. However, the trauma from the wolves might prevent them from sleeping well for a while.”
Wy clenched his fists, glaring at the ground, feeling a mix of helplessness and regret. Ultimately, they were indeed vulnerable. They lacked the capacity to handle threats like tonight’s supposed mage. Even with some people able to fight, they barely had adequate weapons.
They lost two companions, and one ended the night crippled. Next time, the outcome could be much worse!
“That’s a shame,” Jonn sighed, looking to the sky, mourning yet another death.
“Fortunately, you defeated the enemy… Sigh! I was afraid someone with the power of a mage had attacked the village,” Wy muttered to Lance.
“About that, we captured the enemy responsible for all that for the Village Elder to decide his fate.”
“Where is he?” Jonn’s expression changed.
Lance pointed to the barn. “Eliot tied him to a chair before he left with Asher to go after you.”
“Well, Beri and Petyr are injured. They could use their help.” Jonn made his way to the enemy he thought would be the first mage he would face on his journey.
To his surprise, the red-haired enemy had no mana of his own in his body. He was as ordinary as the common members of the village.
That’s why we avoided a worse tragedy… We were lucky today, despite all the problems.
Facing the red-haired man, Jonn stood in front of the thin, tall figure, dressed all in black, with some purple marks on his face. Someone had certainly vented their anger on him after he was apprehended.
Jonn didn’t care who had hit their hostage and got straight to the point. “You’re not a mage… What were you after?”
He refused to answer, expressing his depression. “What’s the point of me telling you? I’ll die anyway.”
“You were after the mana crystals,” Jonn answered his own question. “But what I want to know is, how did you find them? It was your wolves, right? But why did you, a mortal, want the mana crystals?”
The look on the hostage’s face changed. He understood Jonn didn’t know the real name of those mana essences, but it was undeniable that the white-haired boy’s words were aimed at the Aether Tears.
“If you know what I was looking for, why did you ask me?”
‘Tsk! I don’t understand why someone who knows about them would leave them out in the open for everyone to feel!’ he thought as he looked only at Jonn.
“What would you use them for?” Jonn insisted, stepping forward.
The interrogation rules Hewet had taught him were clear. A hostage who didn’t talk and had no long-term value should be killed. If necessary, a hostage who was unwilling to talk should be persuaded to reveal what they knew. However, torture only worked up to a point, as it could encourage the target to fabricate information.
If you will not answer me soon, I’d better kill you and end this horrible night.
The man closed his mouth and looked away, unwilling to reveal what he knew. His knowledge could turn the lives of mortals upside down, and he would not allow the village that ended his dream to gain such information.
“I’d rather die!” he spat between his teeth.
“Then that’s what you’ll suffer.” Jonn pulled a dagger from his clothes, bringing it close to his enemy. “But it won’t be as quick as you want.”
As he scratched the red-haired man’s arms, causing pain at specific points, Jonn suddenly stopped, ignoring the hostage’s cries of pain.
What’s that?
Something charged with mana caught his eye, and blue screens appeared in his vision.
{Ding!}
{You’ve discovered an Enchanted Artifact!}