Ethan slumped against the barracks, his back pressed against the cold stone, his gaze fixed on the line of men and women locked in combat. He felt a sense of confussion, struggling to process the chaos unfolding before him. The goblins, though diminished, continued their relentless assault, driven by an unyielding madness.

These villagers were not warrior, and neither was he. Ethan witnessed several of them falling back with grievous wounds, and more than a few he believed were beyond saving. The line bulged, and without conscious thought, he found himself joining their ranks. Thrusting his spear forward and activating its enchantment, lightning coursed from the goblin he struck, to a few close to it, creating a brief reprieve for the villagers closeby.

Bolg materialized beside him, swinging the axe he had given to him. Once again, bolts of lightning surged through the goblin horde, but there was no expressions of joy or triumph. Bolg's face revealed only a grim determination. Together, they fought on, Ethan repeatedly thrusting his spear, his weary arms straining to maintain his stance. While he didn't deliver many fatal blows, in the midst of the melee, survival became his sole focus.

Inevitably, Ethan reached a point of exhaustion where he could no longer continue. He fell back, allowing another to take his place. Collapsing to the ground, he gasped for air, longing for an end to the horror.

--

Seraphina pushed her horse to its limits, its breath labored and frothy, as she raced towards the besieged village. The sight that greeted her was one of utter horror—flames engulfed the structures, and the cacophony of battle emanated from a nearby stone building.

Her band rallied around her, and she assessed each member with a swift glance. "No time for elaborate plans. We engage with Formation B." The roles were clear to all: fighters at the forefront, ranged and casters at the rear, the tried-and-true arrangement for prolonged battles. Seraphina kicked her steed forward, and her comrades followed suit.

Arriving at the scene, they bore witness to a grim spectacle—villagers locked in a desperate struggle for survival, casualties strewn about, their fates uncertain. Only a handful of soldiers stood among them. Seraphina wasted no time. With a fierce battle cry, she charged the goblins from the flank, her ally Alec at her side. They cleaved through the enemy ranks like a scythe through wheat.

A shower of ice spikes erupted, wreaking havoc within the goblin horde, while well-aimed arrows felled those attempting to encircle Seraphina, Alec, and Listra—the band's formidable trio. They fought in a wedge formation, Seraphina leading the charge, their blows carving through the goblins.

Goblin arrows rained down, heedless of the collateral damage inflicted upon their own ranks. Yet Seraphina's sturdy plate armor and kite shield deflected the projectiles. A cry arose from the village line, and in response, they surged forward, trapping a sizable group of goblins in a pincer movement.

Sensing the buildup of magical energy behind her, Seraphina knew Ultia was preparing her flamewave spell. She swiftly issued commands, adjusting their formation to grant Ultia a clear path. Then, with an eruption of fiery essence, a wave of scorching heat engulfed the goblin ranks, their screams piercing the air. Seraphina, Alec, and Listra followed closely behind, turning the tide of battle into a merciless massacre.

--

Ethan regained consciousness at some point, unsure of when, only to find himself propped up against an overturned wagon. As he looked up, his vision blurred, confronted by the stern faces of three men. One of them held an empty bucket, and Ethan realized they had employed the age-old method of dousing him with water. His mind still foggy, he found himself face-to-face with one of the men who sneered, "This is all your doing, stranger! My wife is dying because of you! We'll make sure you regret ever setting foot here..."

A large hand descended upon the man's shoulder, belonging to Lork, who stood behind him. "Maybe you should calm down, Axel. Ethan isn't responsible for this mess," Lork interjected.

Axel whirled around, his face twisted in anger. "Of course he is! If he hadn't killed that chieftain, none of this would have happened!"

Lork shrugged dismissively. "Perhaps not now, but it would have come to pass sooner or later."

The other two men, who had retreated slightly, began shouting at Lork, gesturing vehemently towards Ethan. "Lork, he needs to pay!" one of them exclaimed, while the other nodded in agreement.

Stepping closer to one of the men, Lork locked eyes with him. "Ethan fought bravely today, his enchantments leading to the deaths of hundreds of goblins. Instead of casting blame, perhaps you should be grateful he was here at all."

The man seemed inclined to argue, but Lork gripped his shirt tightly. "You cowards hid at the back. You only joined the fight when the tide started turning. So, Axel, you better walk away now and let Ethan rest. He's earned it."

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With a shove, Lork sent the man stumbling back, and after a few more scowls directed at Ethan, the trio turned and departed, conversing amongst themselves.

Lork approached Ethan, offering him a waterskin. Ethan accepted it gratefully, taking a long sip before sighing. "Thanks, Lork..."

The burly man shrugged nonchalantly. "We're the ones who should be thanking you, Ethan. Don't worry about it."

Ethan glanced up at Lork, his expression troubled. "They're right, you know. I'm the one who set all of this in motion."

Lork smiled reassuringly. "And as I told them, it would have happened eventually. The only difference is that you were here this time, and that likely saved those narrow-minded fools."

Ethan managed a smile. "Well, maybe there's some truth to that. But how bad is it, Lork? And where's Milda?"

A somber look crossed Lork's face as he replied, "Thirty-three dead, many more wounded. Milda is fine, though, just a few scratches."

Although Ethan had expected such news, the reality still shocked him. He had always lived a life of relative safety, so the sight of people dying around him was something he couldn't easily get used to.

Slowly rising to his feet, Ethan surveyed the battlefield and shuddered. He had actually fought in a battle—him! The memories were hazy, but he knew he had taken lives that day, quite a number of them. The thought furrowed his brow; he hadn't received any notifications...

Just as he was about to inquire with Lork, he noticed a small blinking icon in the corner of his vision. It persisted, and he realized he could access it at any time. However, he resisted the urge, not wanting to focus on what he had gained from all the killing at that moment. There would be time for that later; right now, he needed to mourn what had been lost.

Soon after, Ethan was escorted to a healer, though not the elderly man he had met on his first day in the village. This healer was a young and strikingly beautiful elf, and Ethan struggled to avert his gaze from the elf's pointed ears. Sensing Ethan's curiosity, the elf smiled and remarked, "Not many encounters with elves, I presume?"

Ethan looked somewhat embarrassed and nodded. "Apologies... I didn't mean to stare."

The elf chuckled. "No worries. I'm used to it. Now, you appear to be in need of some attention. Please have a seat."

Ethan complied and took a seat across from the elf. "I'm Ethan. And, no, I wouldn't mind if you hasten my healing a bit."

Elaniod, the elf, nodded. "Of course, Ethan. Let's see what we can do." Placing both hands on Ethan's shoulders, he began the healing process.

As Elaniod began his healing work, he spoke, "I can heal without physical touch, but it's more efficient this way. So, are you the enchanter everyone's talking about?"

Ethan shrugged. "I guess I am. Name's Ethan Okamura."

Elaniod shifted his hands to Ethan's lower back. "Pleased to meet you, Ethan. Heard a lot about your exploits during the fight. Explosions and lightning chaining from foe to foe—sounds pretty impressive."

Ethan shrugged again. "Did what I could. Wasn't exactly enough, though... A lot of people..."

Interrupting him, Elaniod said, "Don't blame yourself, Ethan. We all have limits. You did a lot for one person, but others couldn't carry on from there. Instead of dwelling on those you couldn't save, focus on the hundreds who are still alive."

Ethan sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right, Elaniod. Easier said than done, though. I'll be fine. I'll try not to dwell on it too much."

Elaniod muttered a few words, and Ethan felt a surge of energy flowing into him, like quenching a thirst with that first sip of water. It washed away fatigue and pain. Ethan sighed in relief as his wounds began to close, and once the healing was complete, he thanked Elaniod.

The elf stood up and shook Ethan's hand. "It was my pleasure. If you don't mind, what are your plans now?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Elaniod smiled. "Well, enchanters are pretty rare, especially the good ones. Seraphina, our leader, asked me to extend an invitation to you."

Ethan looked puzzled, prompting the elf to continue. "We're called the Band of the Silver Dawn. Think you might be interested?"

Ethan smiled. "Not at all."

Elaniod blinked in surprise. "That was very honest, but why?"

Ethan shrugged. "I'm honored you'd ask, but I'm not a warrior, and I have little interest in adventuring. Maybe I'll travel someday, but for now, I want to find an academy with a large library where I can gain access."

Elaniod still appeared a bit confused. "I see. Well, if you're looking for a library, there are several options. But perhaps start in Bilgrad. There's a decent-sized school there."

Ethan nodded gratefully. "Appreciate it, Elaniod. I'll make it up to you for the healing. Maybe we can talk about it later, but right now, I need some food and sleep."

The elf smiled again. "That's a good idea. We can catch up later, and perhaps I'll bring Seraphina. She'd like to meet you herself and try to convince you in her own way." He said it with a smile, but Ethan sensed their strong desire to recruit him. He did not want to bind himself to anyone, least of all a group of mercenaries..

Finding a line of people waiting for food, Ethan grabbed a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread, then sought out a secluded spot away from the crowd. He settled down and gazed at the stars twinkling above. Tomorrow, he would contemplate his plans, but for now, he simply wanted to keep his options open.