The campfires around the former knights of the Seventh Brigade crackled softly, their orange glow casting long shadows over the faces of the men and women. The plan wagon, once laden with supplies for their mission, had become a lifeline for the struggling villagers. Inside were rations of dried beef, potatoes, and other simple provisions—enough to stave off hunger for a few more days in a community that had been rationing every meal for weeks.

The knights mingled cautiously with the villagers, some finding quiet corners to rest while others attempted to lend a hand with small tasks. Though accepted into the fold, the tension of their recent defection lingered, unspoken but palpable.

Near one of the larger fires, Sir Drennor stood in quiet conversation with a few of his men. His weathered face reflected the firelight, and his voice carried a calm authority that steadied the group despite their uncertain future.

“We’ve done what had to be done,” Drennor said, his tone measured. “But don’t mistake this campfire for safety. The king’s reach is long, and his wrath will find us, eventually.”

One of the knights shifted uneasily. “And when it does?”

Drennor’s jaw tightened, his gaze sweeping over the camp. “We’ll face it. Together. But for now, our duty is here. These people—this village—they need every chance to survive what’s coming.”

The group nodded silently, the weight of their choice hanging heavy in the cool night air. Nearby, a villager approached cautiously, offering a simple bowl of steaming stew to one of the knights. The gesture, though small, symbolized an unspoken bridge of trust between the two groups.

Drennor’s gaze lingered on the scene before turning back to his men. “This isn’t just about survival. It’s about proving that we’re more than what we were ordered to be. Remember that.”

The knights exchanged quiet nods, their loyalty shifting from a broken system to the community they had chosen to protect.

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The village square buzzed with quiet anticipation as small groups of villagers gathered, whispering to one another.

“I heard Kael’s going to speak today,” one man murmured.

“They say it’s about the knights. Maybe they’ve brought trouble with them,” a woman replied.

Speculation rippled through the crowd as Kael and Elira stepped forward, their presence silencing the murmurs. Kael’s sharp gaze swept over the gathered villagers before he began.

“Everyone, listen carefully,” Kael said, his voice steady. “The Lorridian Kingdom will not tolerate what has happened here. You’ve shown strength, courage, and unity, but they won’t see it that way. To them, this is defiance—and defiance will bring retaliation.”

The crowd stilled, the weight of his words sinking in. Kael gestured for Sir Drennor to step forward.

Drennor squared his shoulders, his voice grave but steady. “Kael’s right. The king won’t just send another brigade. He’ll send battalions—entire armies. Magicians will likely accompany them, and their goal won’t be negotiation. They’ll overrun this village. And when they’re finished, they won’t leave anyone standing.”

He paused, his eyes sweeping across the crowd. “What you’ve done here—the fortifications, the defense—it’s remarkable. Few villages could have resisted a brigade, let alone sent them running. But even with your efforts, you can’t hold out against what’s coming. The kingdom will see to that.”

A heavy silence followed Drennor’s words, and the villagers’ earlier resolve began to crack. Whispers broke out, some frantic, others despairing.

“They’ll kill us all,” one man muttered.

“We should run while we can!” another voice called.

The murmurs grew louder, the tension mounting as fear spread through the crowd.

Kael’s expression darkened as he strode toward the center of the square. With a swift motion, he slammed his fist into a large stone pillar standing at the heart of the village. The impact shattered the top of the pillar, sending fragments scattering across the ground.

The crowd froze, their eyes wide with shock at the display of raw strength. Some took a step back, their murmurs silenced by the sheer force of the act.

Kael’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. “Enough!” He turned to face them, his gaze burning with intensity. “We don’t have to face them here. There’s another way. A place where we can rebuild, stronger than ever. I’ve seen it with my own eyes—a vast, hidden city beneath the ground. Zharakai.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The villagers exchanged uncertain glances, the name unfamiliar to most.

Kael continued, his voice steady. “I unlocked its gates with the help of allies. It’s defensible, rich in resources, and hidden from the kingdom’s reach. It’s our best chance to survive—and to thrive.”

Elira stepped forward, her voice carrying a gentle strength. “I know what you’re feeling,” she began, her green eyes sweeping across the crowd. “This village has been my home my entire life. I’ve loved it, just as you all do. But what makes this place special isn’t the buildings or the fields. It’s us. It’s the people who’ve stood together through everything.”

She paused, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “We’ve lost so much already. Staying here when destruction is certain… it’s not courage. It’s folly. If we truly care about each other, we’ll do what’s necessary to protect that bond.”

The crowd murmured again, this time more thoughtful than fearful. Those rescued from the bandit camp and protected during the monster’s attack were the first to voice their agreement.

Then, Elira’s father stepped forward, his tone resolute. “Kael and Elira are right. Our homes may be here, but our lives and our future lie elsewhere. We’ve always survived because we’ve stood together. Let’s keep it that way.”

The elder villagers exchanged hesitant glances until the village elder herself spoke. Leaning heavily on her cane, she said, “We’ve lived long enough to see the seasons change and the world move on. It’s time for us to make way for the younger generation. Our wisdom isn’t tied to these stones—it travels with us. Let’s guide them, not hold them back.”

Her words resonated deeply, and the last pockets of resistance faded. The decision was made.

Kael addressed the villagers once more. “We won’t leave in a panic. The king’s army won’t mobilize overnight. You’ll have the rest of today to prepare—gather everything of value or use, pack your essentials. At dawn, we move.”

The villagers dispersed, their energy transformed from fear to purpose.

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Kael leaned back against a large, fallen tree trunk at the edge of the village, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The muffled sounds of hammers and chatter from the villagers reached his ears, but out here, it was quiet. His fingers lightly brushed the rough bark of the tree, grounding him in the moment as he reflected on the earlier meeting.

Soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Elira emerged from the shadows, her expression a mix of concern and determination as she approached him. Without a word, she sat down beside him, her presence breaking the solitude without disturbing it.

“You seem uneasy,” she said after a moment, her voice calm but probing. “What’s the matter?”

Without warning, she reached for his hand, her touch gentle but firm. Kael flinched slightly as she examined it, her brows furrowing.

“I knew it,” she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern. “You broke it. Unbelievable.”

Kael smirked faintly, though the pain was evident in his eyes. “Had to get their attention somehow.”

Elira sighed and shook her head. She cupped his hand in both of hers, and a soft green glow began to emanate from her fingers. The faint scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers filled the air as the magic pulsed gently.

Tiny tendrils of light green energy spiraled around his hand, weaving through the cracks and fractures. The glow intensified as Elira focused, and the air seemed to hum with vitality. Kael watched silently, captivated by the beauty of the process.

Slowly, the magic solidified into small, delicate vines that wrapped snugly around his hand, providing stability as the healing neared its completion. The vines pulsed faintly, their texture both firm and comforting, like a gentle cast woven from nature itself.

“You need to stop getting hurt,” Elira said softly, her voice carrying both a reprimand and a plea. “It’s agonizing to watch you like this… please.”

Kael’s gaze softened, his usually guarded expression giving way to something more vulnerable. “It’s not about wanting the pain. Sometimes you have to push yourself aside for something greater. They need confidence in a leader, especially with what’s ahead.”

Elira’s voice cracked slightly as she replied, “You didn’t just hurt yourself—you shattered it.” A single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek and merging with the soft glow of her magic.

Kael’s expression grew serious, his voice low but steady. “And I’d do it again if it meant giving them hope. But I’ll try to avoid making this a habit—for your sake.”

Elira let out a soft, shaky laugh as the glow around her hands faded. The vines around his hand remained, their intricate patterns a testament to her care and skill. She finally released his hand, though she didn’t move away. Her green eyes locked onto his, searching for something unspoken.

“For my sake?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Kael could respond, Elira’s hands moved with sudden resolve. She gripped his arms and pinned them above his head against the tree trunk. Kael blinked, his body tensing in surprise as her determined expression filled his view.

“Elira?” he asked, his voice uncertain but not resistant.

“You’re hopeless,” she murmured, her words a soft blend of frustration and something far deeper. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips meeting his in a sudden, tender kiss.

Kael froze for a heartbeat, his mind racing to process the unexpected gesture. But the warmth of her touch and the sincerity in her actions melted his initial shock. Slowly, he relaxed, his eyes closing as he returned the kiss.

When Elira finally pulled back, she released his arms, her cheeks flushed but her gaze unwavering. Her lips curved into a faint, teasing smile.

“I… didn’t see that coming,” Kael admitted, his voice quiet, almost embarrassed.

Elira tilted her head, crossing her arms with a playful grin. “Maybe it’s time you started expecting more from me.”

Kael chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You never fail to surprise me.”

She settled back beside him, the tension easing but leaving behind an undeniable shift in the air. This time, she leaned against him, resting her shoulder lightly against his. Kael glanced down at her, the quiet closeness of her presence bringing a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he needed.

The muffled sounds of the village resumed in the background, but neither of them seemed eager to break the quiet connection they now shared.

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As the day wore on, the villagers threw themselves into preparations. Crates were packed, livestock rounded up, and tools sharpened. The rhythm of hammers and the chatter of voices filled the air as the community moved with a singular purpose.

In the distance, the forest loomed, the shadow of the monster and the looming threat of the kingdom ever-present.