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Chapter 45: The Difference Between Mages/Beasts and Common Beings

Chapter 45: The Difference Between Mages/Beasts and Common Beings

The night was cold and silent, with all the houses in the Eternal Village shuttered tight, as was the gate to the village’s walled area.

While the ordinary inhabitants sheltered inside, a group of armed villagers sat astride horses at the east side of the village, near Sarre and Arnald’s homes. A hundred meters to the south, a group of men with a carriage and horses watched them, bearing a banner emblazoned with the symbol of a burning deer.

Arnald stood next to Jonn, Sarre, and the village guards, when he recognized the newcomers’ emblem.

“The Flame Hunters!” he exclaimed, shivering as he sensed these enemies had come for him. “The bloody Jack!”

Jonn hadn’t shared his conversation with Sayer with anyone, so only the two of them knew the truth. Hearing Arnald’s fearful voice, Jonn recalled his conversation with Sayer weeks ago.

Are they here because of Sayer and Sely’s tragic death?

There was a possibility it wasn’t related, but the likelihood of another reason was so slim that Jonn couldn’t believe today’s visit was for anything else.

After nearly two minutes of tense silence, with both groups locked in a standoff, each harboring different thoughts and intentions, Jonn signaled for his people to remain behind. He moved forward with one of the horses that already had a mana core. Ice followed, while Phantom stayed back, observing as two mounted men from the opposing group approached the village.

Both sides advanced until they were just 10 meters apart, Jonn and his animals on one side, Jack and one of his henchmen on the other.

“Who are you? What do you want here?” Jonn demanded, his gaze fixed on the two men.

The man with short black hair, clad in armor with a coat of arms on his chest, surveyed the village and its guards before focusing on Jonn. He was intrigued by the situation, unsure of what this young man believed was happening, but curious about the unfolding scenario.

‘Did they send a messenger? Or is this brat actually their leader?’ he wondered.

Instead of answering Jonn, he glanced again at the walled area of the village, sensing an opportunity. Though he was there for Sayer, he was open to other possibilities should they arise.

‘These people are well armed. They don’t look hungry...’

After nearly two minutes of Jonn’s questioning, Jack finally said to him, “I’m looking for someone, someone I believe to be in your village.”

Jonn’s suspicions were confirmed, yet he maintained a neutral expression.

“His name is Sayer, born and raised in Littlewood. He must have arrived here with his family—sister, nephew, mother, and brother-in-law,” Jack added, failing to recognize Arnald from afar.

But how could he? His focus was solely on Sayer, not Arnald. He only had a vague description of what Sayer looked like. Identifying someone without having seen them in person was no easy task for mere mortals without mana.

“I see… He’s not here. He must be somewhere else,” Jonn suggested, hoping to redirect the group. “You can continue your journey. We won’t interfere with your hunt.”

Jack chuckled at Jonn’s words. “Really? I appreciate your cooperation, but first, we’d like to check your village, just in case he’s hiding here.

You see, Sayer is a dangerous assassin. He murdered our young lady and then fled Littlewood. Who knows who his next victim will be? I can’t let a scoundrel like him hide.”

“Young lady?” Jonn narrowed his eyes, picking up on something Sayer hadn’t mentioned. “He killed someone from your group? How terrible!”

“Not just someone from my group. She was the daught...” Jack’s subordinate was answering Jonn, when the strong, short-haired man next to him gave him a look that made him shut up.

But Jonn had already grasped the full extent of the problem.

“I see. Well, I wish you luck. But you’re not entering my village,” he declared, his eyes narrowing.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Jonn’s horse stood taller than the other two nearby. At nearly two meters (6,5 ft) in height, Jonn himself towered over most men in Valorian.

But size wasn’t everything. Jack, a seasoned warrior with over 20 battles under his belt, wasn’t easily intimidated by the stature or words of a young man barely out of adolescence.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” Jack said with a subtle, mocking laugh. “I’m not leaving here without Sayer, or at least without confirming he isn’t in the area.”

“Really?” Jonn’s voice hardened as he used the reins to urge his horse forward by two steps.

Ice followed, baring his sharp, long teeth.

“What if I insist you leave now?” Jonn pointed his spear forward, causing the two men to shift their gazes.

Yeoman Ferry’s envoys sensed an unsettling aura surrounding the white-haired boy before them. Despite their feigned kindness, the youth showed no respect. His audacity—whether born of courage or foolishness—fueled their mounting anger.

Their lagging comrades, perceiving the tension, tightened their grips on their weapons. Simultaneously, Jonn’s group near Arnald mirrored this action, recognizing their leader’s refusal to allow strangers free rein in their village.

“Are you threatening us?” Jack advanced, now mere steps from Jonn. He unsheathed his sword, eager for the boy to persist in his defiant stance.

Time seemed to freeze for Jonn as two paths materialized in his mind: strike now, slaying these intruders and facing the inevitable retribution from an unknown faction, or permit their entry, risking the village’s resources to those men’s insatiable greed.

They’ll turn against us, regardless. Jonn realized. Better it be for these men’s deaths than for our harvest!

Decision made, Jonn lowered his spear in feigned surrender, a cunning smile playing across his lips.

Jack’s triumphant grin betrayed his misplaced confidence in Jonn’s surrender.

Suddenly, Jonn thrust his open hand skyward, as if striking an unseen foe. The newcomers’ horses whinnied and recoiled, sensing danger. Before they could flee, a shimmering, translucent palm materialized before Jonn, expanding rapidly. As it reached Jack, it had grown to the size of a door, terrifying the reckless rider.

“Aaagh!” Jack’s scream pierced the air as an invisible force hurled him four meters backward. He crashed to the ground, his sword clattering away.

His spooked mount reared, nearly toppling.

While Jack lay groaning, his back screaming in pain, Ice sprang into action. The wolf leaped, targeting the second enemy’s exposed neck.

The pale-faced man struggled to control his frenzied horse, now bucking like an enraged bull. Caught between his panicked mount and the airborne wolf, he had no chance to defend himself.

In a heartbeat, Ice landed, pinning his victim. Arterial blood from the man’s torn throat matted the wolf’s muzzle, a grim testament to the swift and brutal attack.

The brutal scene unfolded in mere seconds. Only after the first kill did both sides react, Sarre leading three guards while Eliot nocked his first arrow.

Jonn’s gaze snapped to Jack’s prone form. In one fluid motion, he aimed and hurled his spear at the struggling man’s exposed neck.

The weapon sliced through the air, its target helpless to evade.

Jack, a mere mortal without mana, stood no chance against Jonn, whose status far surpassed him. Though Jonn hadn’t fully used his weapon’s unique properties, its sheer weight proved devastating.

The spear impaled Jack, pinning him to the earth through his neck. Blood flooded his mouth as the light faded from his eyes. The excruciating pain from his fall-induced fractures vanished, along with all conscious thought.

His suffering, mercifully brief, lasted only a fraction of a second. As Jonn reined his horse beside the fallen invader, he effortlessly extracted his spear. The action released a torrent of blood from the gaping wound at the base of Jack’s neck, marking the definitive end of the unwelcome visitor.

Then, positioning his spear parallel to the ground, Jonn ordered his horse to run forward, from where the remaining enemies were attacking in basically the same way.

“Attack!” bellowed one of the enemy men, spotting Jonn and Ice charging towards him while Sarre’s group closed in from behind.

An arrow whistled through the air from Jonn’s rear, arcing high before plummeting to unseat another foe. Jonn, mere moments from engaging his second target, observed Eliot’s precise strike.

*He’s improving rapidly. Shame I can’t see his status. I suspect he’s growing stronger by the day.

Jonn refocused on his immediate opponent. With a deft sidestep, he deflected the enemy’s spear thrust, simultaneously angling his own weapon towards the armored man’s shoulder.

Eager to witness his spear’s capabilities, Jonn channeled mana into it. The tip glowed faintly, instantly heating to searing temperatures in the split second before impact with the target’s metal armor.

“Aaaaaaagh!”

The tip of Jonn’s spear pierced his opponent’s metal armor as if it were piercing a pudding, easily going through the enemy’s shoulder, while removing the man from his horse.

Jonn briefly suspended his opponent mid-air before forcefully dropping him, allowing his mount to trample the fallen enemy. The horse’s massive weight crushed the man into the ground, shattering his skull and inflicting severe internal injuries. Though the initial shoulder wound wasn’t fatal, the subsequent trampling ensured the foe’s incapacitation.

Avoiding unnecessary cruelty, Jonn left his immobilized opponent and surveyed the battlefield. His intervention proved superfluous. After neutralizing two adversaries himself, with Ice eliminating the first and Eliot felling the third, the skirmish had ended.

The stark reality of a mage and a beast confronting non-mana users crystallized for Jonn—an undeniably lopsided conflict.

This encounter served as Jonn’s first true eye-opener, illuminating the vast power gap between himself, Ice, and ordinary men.

Yet, this realization brought him no joy.

Our secret remains safe today, but it’s only a matter of time before graver threats find us.

His gaze drifted southwest toward the horizon, in the direction of Eldoria and Littlewood.

I pray these men have no ties to mages. But if they do, we're in for some challenging battles in the near future!