From the heart of Freyborn Village, looking up, one would see thousands of water spheres darting across the sky in every direction. Over the course of the next ten to twenty minutes, the sounds of rushing water and rainfall gradually drowned out the roar of flames as the air cooled and the temperature began to drop. All over the village, villagers and guards who had not been present on the eastern wall stared skyward, bewildered by the strange sight.

But for the people who were in the western district, at least those still alive, it was a miracle.

For hours, they had been hunted by the monsters that had gotten through the breach in the western wall while avoiding the ever-growing flames that seemed to close in from every angle. Who knew how many people had been trapped by those flames, burned alive? Who knew how many were forced to flee from the heat only to be attacked and devoured by some creature? The bodies of the unfortunate souls who succumbed to such fates would likely never be recovered. Yet, for the survivors, who were still struggling, the water was a blessing.

“What do I do?" A quiet voice broke through the air, tinged with panic, escaping from the dry throat of a young girl.

She was looking up at the roof.

Smoke filtered into the room below her, seeping in like water filling a bowl—through cracks in the floorboards, the windows, and every opening it could find. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she glanced down at the figure she was holding onto, lying in her lap—another girl, likely only a year older than she was. The two looked nearly identical, their brown hair darkened by the soot that covered them from head to toe and honey-colored eyes reflecting the conscious girl's fear like a mirror. The only difference between them was that the girl lying down was unconscious, her breath shallow and labored as beads of sweat trailed down her face.

A rag lay on her forehead, but the rising heat had left it damp and barely cool anymore.

“Mary…” The conscious sister called out softly, her voice trembling as she held her sister closer to her chest. Her gaze slowly drifted to the wooden hatch on the floor. Smoke was curling up through its edges too. Their house was located in the western district and had been dangerously close to where the fire started. Luckily though, their house was built on a small hill that had initially shielded them, keeping the flames from reaching their home right away. But their isolation now felt like a curse.

While the village burned and monsters tore through the streets, they were trapped. The flames didn’t weaken; they grew fiercer, closing in relentlessly. Even if the fire couldn’t reach them directly, the wood framing of their house eventually caught fire from stray embers. Mary, the older twin, had collapsed after breathing in too much smoke. With no other option, the younger sister had carried her up to the attic—a last, desperate move. She had done her best to block places where the smoke could leak with pieces of cloth she had managed to wet before the fire reached the kitchen. But even if that helped, it was only a matter of time before the flames reached them.

If the smoke didn't kill them first, that is.

This reality wasn’t lost on the younger sister, even at fifteen. It was an overwhelming flood of emotions, one too paralyzing to process fully. To feel death approaching, to know you could think, could try to escape—and yet realize, helplessly, that there was no way out. It twisted her insides, like her heart was being clenched in an iron grip, her thoughts looping endlessly, always returning to the same hopeless end. Yet, in some way, her sister’s presence in her arms kept her grounded. Even as the fear of losing Mary—lying there, unconscious, choked by smoke—gnawed at her, it had also kept her from giving in completely up till now.

"I'm sorry, Mary. I'm so sorry. I tried, I promise..." She murmured over and over, pressing her forehead against her sister’s, her tears spilling onto Mary’s face. That’s when she felt it—a faint, cool drip on the top of her head. She barely noticed it at first, but it was enough to make her lift her head.

"Huh?" She glanced around, feeling it again, this time on her forehead. She reached up and touched the spot, and her eyes widened as she realized what it was.

"Water?" Just then, a loud boom shook the house. She looked up at the ceiling just as it buckled slightly, a familiar sound echoing down. It was rain—but so intense, more powerful than any rain she’d ever heard. For a few seconds, her mind struggled to process what was happening. Then, the roof began to leak. Living beneath the forest canopy, they’d never had heavy rain before, even in a storm, so their roofs weren’t built to withstand it.

But now, that was saving them. It started as a few small drips, but then water began flooding into the room in streams. She sat, stunned, until a stream landed on Mary’s face, snapping her back to reality. Quickly, she moved her sister out of the way before heading over to the hatch leading downstairs. In barely a minute, the attic was starting to flood—there was just so much water.

She wrestled with the hatch, wincing as the metal ring, heated from the flames below, burned her fingers. Wrapping her shirt around her hand for a better grip, she finally managed to pull it open. Instantly, a wave of heat surged upward, forcing her to step back as flames flared just beneath the opening. But almost instantly, they were suppressed as the water built up in the attic poured through the hatch, smothering the flames and flooding into the floor below. Watching the water rush past her feet, she let out a deep sigh of relief. Her expression slowly shifted to a smile, and seconds later, she was laughing lightly.

They weren’t going to die here. They weren’t going to burn in this attic. She and her sister were going to live.

Relief washed over her, so intense it made her want to cry even harder than she had moments before. But as she glanced at her sister, Mary, and saw the tense look still etched on her face, her expression grew resolute. Mary’s breathing was steadier now, thanks to the cooler air, but the room was still thick with smoke.

“I have to get her outside,” the younger sister murmured to herself. Moving quickly, she slid her arms beneath her sister's arms. She wasn't strong enough to lift her fully so she was forced to drag her instead. She maneuvered Mary toward the hatch, which led down to the first floor by way of a ladder. She waited, watching as the flames below died down, then carefully descended the damaged and charred ladder, struggling with each step. Finally, once they reached the first floor, she pulled her sister through the house to the front door, and by the time they reached the porch, her own breathing had gotten ragged.

Gently, she laid Mary down before turning to take in the scene beyond their home.

The smell of smoke still hung heavy in the air, but the view had shifted. Earlier, from this very porch, she and Mary had seen nothing but a sea of flames swallowing countless homes. Even the towering trees that some parts of the village were built around had been set ablaze. But now spheres of water flew across the sky, bursting into showers that blanketed the village in rain. Flames still flickered here and there, but she could tell they wouldn’t last long. Even the smoke that had obscured the forest canopy had begun to thin.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“I wonder where those spheres of water are coming from,” she whispered as she watched them arc across the sky. But her attention snapped away when she heard the faint sound of coughing from behind her. Turning around, her expression softened with a bittersweet smile as she watched Mary stir, her face changing as she coughed. Moments later, her eyes fluttered open, and she slowly sat up, looking around in confusion.

“What…” Mary’s voice trailed off, genuine confusion filling her gaze. Before she could get her bearings, her younger sister was already running toward her, wrapping her in a hug before she even had time to react.

“H- Huh? Marilyn?” Mary was frozen for a moment, then hugged Marilyn back. They clung to each other, their reunion filled with tears, sniffles, and fragmented words. After several minutes, they finally pulled apart.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marilyn asked, her expression both relieved and concerned.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Mary replied, clearing her throat. Marilyn was sitting beside her now, both of them looking out toward the village, taking in the unusual sight together.

“You said this has been going on for a while? The rain and stuff?” Marilyn nodded.

“Yeah, it’s what put out the fire. I don’t know where it’s all coming from, though. For some reason, the water is evaporating really fast.” Marilyn tugged at her clothes as she said that last bit. They’d both been soaked when they first made it outside, but now they were completely dry. The same went for the inside of the house; it only stayed damp because more water kept raining down.

“Well, that’s strange,” Mary murmured, her gaze fixed on the scene before them. A quiet settled between them, and after a few moments, Marilyn broke it, her expression darkening slightly as she looked over at her sister.

“Mary… do you think Grandpa is okay? I mean… do you think he’s still alive?” It was clear this question had been weighing on Marilyn, though she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted an answer. Mary turned to her, studying her face for a moment, then smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He wasn’t even close to the western district when things got bad, remember? I bet he’s out there helping the villagers and looking for us.” Marilyn leaned into her sister’s shoulder, giving a soft nod.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” The two sisters sat in silence, watching as the last flames across the village faded under the relentless artificial rain.

All across the village, especially in the western district where the fires had raged hardest, similar scenes were unfolding. People trapped in streets surrounded by burning buildings and those living in houses built along the towering trees watched in relief as the unexpected downpour saved their lives.

•

"Well, it looks like most of the fires are out—at least the ones I can see," Magnus murmured to himself, scanning the village from his vantage high in the air.

What do you think, Basker?

[From what I can tell, Master, all the major fires have been dealt with.]

Magnus nodded. It was great having a second pair of eyes to help catch anything you might have missed.

In that case, I guess I should head down and see how the rescues are going.

Seraline’s plan was for all survivors found by the guards and captains to be brought to the center of the village, so that’s where Magnus was headed.

The village center was easy to spot; it was marked by one of the towering trees that formed the forest canopy, standing at the very heart of all the village’s districts. This tree was unusually large, even compared to the surrounding giants. As Magnus walked through the air toward it, he noticed that, unlike the other trees, which only had buildings attached to their trunks, this one seemed partially hollowed out, repurposed as a structure of its own.

Oh, wow—they actually turned the tree itself into a building.

Magnus spotted windows embedded in the tree’s surface, along with balconies and doorways leading into its core. A complex network of staircases and walkways wound around the trunk, hinting at multiple floors within the massive structure. Taking it all in, he soon found himself hovering above what was known as the village square—a circular area encircling the tree, built entirely of stone. From this height, he could see tents and temporary shelters set up, transforming the square into a makeshift refugee camp.

"I wonder if Seraline’s already down there," Magnus mused aloud. If he had to guess, she probably was. Though he had seen a few scattered monsters earlier, their numbers were nothing like the masses outside the village walls. It was likely that Seraline had already cleared out most of the monsters by the time he began putting out the fires.

I wonder if she’s a bit disappointed. She took this assignment to push her limits, but in the end, all we faced was a bunch of fodder. Honestly, that mana beast we encountered on the way here was more of a threat.

With that thought, Magnus deactivated the aerial visualization that was letting him float, allowing himself to drop out of the sky. His hair and clothes whipped around as he plummeted head-first toward the ground.

Well, if she still wants a challenge, maybe I can ask her to help deal with whatever glitch Mia and the others ran into. Though I suppose that might be dangerous, depending on what the glitch is…

The ground rushed closer as he thought to himself. He looked as if he was going to crash straight into the village square. But then, he began to slow down. His speed dropped from terminal velocity in an instant, rapidly decreasing. Slowing his fall with the Command Console was tricky. The Console saved an object’s momentum even when freezing it in place. If Magnus, for example, stopped a rock mid-flight, it would resume its motion as soon as it unfroze, keeping its original momentum.

This meant that if Magnus simply stopped himself a meter from the ground, he’d still splatter against it upon release. So instead he had to visualize different parts of his body stopping at various intervals rather than all at once. By freezing his torso, he absorbed the momentum on his limbs, and by freezing his limbs, his torso’s momentum was reduced. Repeating this process as he fell allowed him to negate fall damage entirely.

This meant no matter the height, he could land as lightly as a feather, although it was mentally exhausting.

By the time he was five meters from the ground, he’d slowed so much it appeared as though he was moving in slow motion. He flipped mid-air and landed softly on his feet. The surrounding villagers stared in shock, pointing and whispering as if they’d witnessed some mythical creature appear right in front of them. Even the nearby guards looked stunned, only snapping out of it when Magnus met their stares. Finally, one guard approached him cautiously, his face uncertain.

"Excuse me, but are you the Grand Mage, Magnus? The one sent from Takerth Academy?" Magnus turned to the guard, his expression showing he was a bit confused.

Grand Mage? That's not an official rank for a mage if I remember correctly. Is that some kind of title they made up for me or something?

Curious but not bothered enough to question it, Magnus nodded. The guard let out a sigh of relief, his cautious demeanor shifting to one of awe.

“I see, in that case, it’s an honor to meet you! The guards from the eastern wall told me what you did—you’re a hero!” Magnus felt a bit embarrassed and tried to play it off humbly.

“I was just doing what I could to help; it’s no big deal.” But his modest response only seemed to deepen the guard’s admiration.

“You’re as humble as they said you were too! You're completely different from what I imagined a mage to be like, at least compared to the stories.” Magnus raised an eyebrow, realizing that most people probably wouldn’t meet a mage in their lifetime. Being a student at Takerth and living in Arlcliff City, he saw mages regularly, but what were the chances of just coming across one? That meant most people formed their ideas of what mages were like from stories and rumors.

"Oh, sorry—I didn’t mean to go on like that,” the guard apologized, straightening up with a more professional expression.

“Me and the other guards were ordered to take you to the village hall as soon as you arrived. If you would please follow me,” he requested respectfully, though in a bit of an urgent tone.

Immediately? The fires have been taken care of, and most of the monsters are handled. What could be so urgent that they had to notify all the guards to bring me to the village hall right away?

Interested he decided not to waste time, simply nodding as he replied, “Lead the way.”