The fateful morning of Jonn’s departure had finally arrived!
He stood at the entrance of the village’s combined warehouse and Council building, where the Councilors had gathered at dawn.
Throughout the village, daily life was stirring as builders made their way to complete the final touches on the expansion area. The newly constructed wall, complete with a fresh entrance leading to this older area, stood as testament to their progress.
While most villagers remained unaware of Jonn’s true intentions in this quest, believing it to be another of his projects, the Council members knew partial truth. They weren’t privy to all details—particularly the presence of beasts in the horde, or Jonn’s plan to attempt diplomatic negotiations with the creatures to prevent catastrophe. However, they understood dangerous creatures lurked west of the Barren Hills of Deepshadow, and that Jonn was embarking on a dangerous journey.
His mission was clear: confront this threat and return only when he had found a solution.
The Council members grasped the weight of the situation—if things went wrong with Jonn’s mission, these western creatures might descend upon their village. Consequently, the orders from now on were for the villagers to remain within the walls unless absolutely necessary and to maintain evacuation readiness at all times.
After all, no one harbored any illusions that their walls could withstand a charging Triceratops!
“Well, this is it, folk.” Despite everything, Jonn managed an optimistic smile at his companions. “Elia, the Council is yours while I’m gone. Take care of our people—I know you’ll make an excellent leader in my stead.”
“Don’t talk like that…” Elia whispered, pushing away thoughts of him falling to the beasts. “I’ll keep things running until you return. But please, take your time and be careful. Your projects can survive a few weeks without you, so don’t rush things.”
He acknowledged her with a nod, as Arber, Lance, Beri, and Tim offered similar words.
Petyr stepped forward, clasping Jonn’s shoulder. “Your grandfather would be proud if he were here. Your leadership has been nothing short of exceptional. Even the old Elder couldn’t have done better, Jonn.”
The unexpected praise caught Jonn off guard, making him draw a deep breath as memories of old Hewet flooded his mind.
“Don’t worry about us in the coming days. I understand this concerns the village’s future, but your life matters too. Don’t be too quick to sacrifice yourself.”
“I’ll try… though I fear it won’t be easy,” he said after some deep thought. “Keep watch on the western border. If I fail, you’ll have to fight, even if you need to retreat.”
“My men will be ready,” Petyr said confidently, clenching his fist with the conviction that they would at least take down some creatures before falling.
The villagers had grown remarkably stronger and healthier in the two years since Jonn took command. Gone were the days of malnourishment; instead, they had developed into capable fighters. The builders had developed impressive strength, while the guards, who once struggled against common wolves, now matched Jonn’s combat prowess during his first crisis as leader.
Petyr held particularly high hopes for Eliot, having witnessed extraordinary archery skills in the young man.
Jonn surveyed his people one last time. Besides Eliot and Elia, no one else had shown signs of magical talent. His gaze lingered on Tim, the veteran blacksmith who, despite his inability to manipulate mana, had made remarkable progress in his craft.
Tim’s weapons now stood just one step below system-classified enchanted items!
Could he achieve that final breakthrough and forge an Ordinary class item of at least Poor quality? While uncertain, Jonn remained hopeful. Though Jonn himself had become skilled in forging, the village needed someone else in that role.
For times like these, the village needed people who wouldn’t take the risks he was about to face.
“This is goodbye for now. I’ll return when I have answers,” Jonn said his farewell briskly, mounting Windy and directing his companion toward their first destination—Count Francus’s cave.
The villagers watched as Jonn departed with his animal companions: Ice, now fully recovered from previous injuries, along with Annabelle and Roulf.
The village’s animals had grown significantly stronger since the last battle, particularly Ice, who had nearly reached Annabelle’s level after recovery.
Jonn had developed a fascinating theory about his companions’ growth. Beasts seemed to respond more dramatically to life-threatening challenges than mages did. While he had certainly grown stronger after the bird battle, his improvement paled compared to Ice’s advancement—not even reaching 30% of what his companion had achieved.
His decision to bring his animal companions on this mission served a dual purpose. They would provide crucial combat support against the western beasts while also helping him test his recent hypotheses.
The core of his theory suggested that near-death combat experiences triggered sped up growth in beasts, particularly when they were pushed to their absolute limits. If combat proved inevitable on this journey, he was determined to validate this theory in the aftermath.
As Jonn departed the village with his plans, Eliot watched from his position atop the western observation tower. The young archer observed his friend’s departure, well aware that the village’s animals weren’t just valuable for their products and farming capabilities—they had become formidable warriors in their own right.
He didn’t talk to the animals like Jonn and Elia did. However, his sparring sessions with Phantom had shown him the stark difference between the wolf’s current abilities and those of regular wolves from years ago, those who had awakened his combat potential.
According to Jonn’s latest count, 60 of the village’s 61 animals had achieved beast status, with just one silkworm yet to reach level 1. While Eliot remained insecure about the silkworms’ capabilities, he had absolute faith in Mimosa, Luna, Phantom, and even the chickens should combat become necessary.
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‘Go on, Jonn. We’re prepared to handle whatever these beasts leave behind!’ Eliot thought, gripping his enchanted bow—using it to strengthen himself, as Jonn had instructed him to do whenever possible.
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Minutes later, Jonn positioned the eagle he’d been holding captive for weeks beside him.
He secured her to Roulf’s horns, arranging her so she could observe her surroundings while keeping her body confined in a sack, the needle still blocking her magical pathways.
After a brief period of cursing and attempting to provoke him, the bird fell silent, losing her suspicion of what today’s trip meant.
“You’re prepared for death,” she stated, her tone lacking its usual caustic edge as she studied Jonn’s face.
“I don’t seek death.”
“But it will find you.”
“I’m still not sure about that. But you’re right about one thing—I am prepared if it comes to that. But I’ll fight until my last breath,” Jonn said in a voice that carried a serious decision. He’d done everything possible in recent days: tending to the plants that would soon provide the village with many opportunities, completing the transformation of nearly all village animals into beasts, and teaching Eliot and Elia the fundamental magical principles he knew.
If death did claim him now, his village would at least stand a fighting chance!
Even if he fell in the west and the eagle’s horde attacked, the village still had a path to prosperity. Eliot and Elia could lead the villagers eastward, taking the green mana crystals with them. They would eventually find new land to settle and restart their agricultural endeavors. Though the initial months would prove challenging, within a year, they could match their current food production.
Elia and Eliot were fully capable of following his established protocols for mana crystal separation and expanding village production. With the animals capable of providing protection against threats below level 3, Jonn had prepared for the possibility of his non-return.
The eagle saw this in him without even knowing about all that, sensing it in his demeanor, in how relaxed his shoulders and expression were, despite the impending nightmare he was about to face.
The eagle didn’t want to admit it, but for the first time, she was seeing something in Jonn that she hardly ever saw in mages, something that usually only beasts showed.
“I’ll give you this much, Jonn. You’re no longer a coward.” For the first time, she spoke his name without the usual sarcastic ‘mage’ attachment, causing Jonn to see her differently.
“Oh? That’s new coming from you, Cecys. Are we becoming friends?” He asked, his tone playful.
During his nearly daily visits over the past weeks, Jonn had learned her name, along with various details she’d inadvertently revealed between threats and taunts.
“Friendship isn’t in our future. You’ll be dead by nightfall. But rejoice, you won’t die a coward, and I’ll respect that. Just try not to scream too much later, or you’ll spoil my newfound opinion of you.”
Jonn shook his head silently. The western horde remained an unknown variable. While Cecys couldn’t speak for their leader and might be attempting intimidation, her warnings couldn’t be dismissed. After all, beasts harbored a deep hatred for mages and were actively fighting to wrest control of Arcanis from the kingdom’s human rule.
What would prevent this horde from viewing him as another enemy like Arcanis? Cecys’s dark predictions might well prove correct.
This conversation weighed on his mind during their westward journey, as Cecys grew increasingly quiet. They traveled for hours, stopping occasionally for water and brief rest periods—necessary breaks for any such expedition.
As they approached the battlefield where the Eternal Village had confronted the enemy birds weeks ago, Cecys broke her silence after a minute of peculiar behavior, her head swiveling as if searching.
“We’re close,” she said, offering one ultimate test. “If you’re truly ready to face my people, head north from here. Within minutes, you’ll encounter a formidable horde of beasts!”
Without hesitation, Jonn directed his companions northward, as indicated.
Barely three minutes later, his animals sensed something before he did. Annabelle warned, “Master, we’re about to be surrounded by many creatures.”
As Jonn squinted at the horizon, circulating mana through his body, he gradually detected approaching footsteps. Through his connection with Windy, he felt the ground trembling beneath the advancing creatures.
He maintained his composure as he signaled his group to slow their pace, finally halting when an uncountable mass of creatures came into view. The horde comprised various species, with birds circling overhead, all charging toward them at full speed.
Annabelle and the other village animals shifted into combat stance, their senses heightened to maximum alertness, while Jonn took the irrevocable step on his potentially suicidal mission, releasing Cecys.
“I trust you won’t attack me, Cecys,” he said while removing the needle blocking her magical pathway. “I’m surrounded, anyway.” A grim chuckle escaped his lips. “The choice is yours. Stay here or rejoin your people for whatever comes next.”
The eagle’s response surprised him. She remained perched nearby, fixing him with an expression that seemed almost challenging.
Jonn couldn’t determine whether this was another of her deceptions or something entirely different.
However, Cecys was no longer his concern. His attention shifted to the scores of animals encircling him, their presence broadcasting unmistakable signals of their intentions.
As the dust clouds rose and the thundering sounds of the approaching horde intensified, Jonn witnessed something that sent a singular chill down his spine.
-7 progress points on the [Save the Eternal Village] quest!
His eyes widened as if he’d taken a mortal blow to the chest. Until now, he’d maintained his composure, but this notification shattered his calm. Certainty crashed over him like a wave, causing him to involuntarily swallow as the color drained from his face.
Is this where I die? Will the village be destroyed?
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Far to the south of Jonn’s position, several days’ journey away, stood one of Valorian’s few remaining metropolises—a sprawling city of over 100,000 inhabitants.
Within this urban expanse, a young man with cropped hair and a middle-aged woman, both wearing travel-worn clothing, were being led through the ornate corridors of one of Eldoria’s most magnificent estates.
“Duke Dayflare will see you now, Mr. and Mrs. Hilllash,” announced their escort, leading them into a spacious chamber. They settled onto an elegant sofa, briefly taking in the room’s exquisite decor before a nobly dressed man entered, accompanied by his personal guard, wearing a calculated smile.
“Your Grace,” the two visitors rose hastily, but the Duke raised his hand, dismissing the formality.
“Young Baynard Hilllash, your master has spoken of you,” said the Duke, one of the kingdom’s most influential figures. “Out of respect for Mystic Nele, I’m granting you five minutes. Let’s not waste time with pleasantries.”
The tall, robust youth, despite his weather-beaten appearance, flashed a perfect smile and complied with the Duke’s directive. “Your Grace, you’re familiar with the Barren Hills of Deepshadow’s reputation for being lifeless and inhospitable to cultivation?”
“Indeed. It’s our continent’s greatest challenge,” Duke Dayflare said in response, his expression darkening.
“What if I told you that farming in the Barren Hills of Deepshadow is possible?” Baynard leaned forward slightly. “More than possible—I’ve witnessed a village there successfully growing food on that black soil.”
His words captured the Duke’s full attention, prompting the nobleman to take a seat across from them, studying Baynard with silent intensity.
The Duke’s bodyguard scrutinized Baynard carefully, searching for any hint of deception.
“Tell me everything.”
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End of Book 1!