It was midnight, but the moon hanging in the sky was still shining brightly, washing away the darkness in Winterseed II. The villagers hiding in the village square were still very scared, hugging each other while some kept crying and praying for a miraculous intervention, which, unbeknownst to them, had already taken place.
At this moment, Ren and the soldiers with him arrived at the village square.
The villagers immediately became curious and tense upon seeing the soldiers.
"What happened?" some couldn't help but ask.
"Where is my son?"
"Where is my husband?"
Some of them even began to ask for their loved ones who didn't arrive with Ren and the others. Searᴄh the ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Ren immediately became sad as he would have to share the bad news of the death of their loved ones. He felt a pang in his heart and was almost on the verge of crying—he wasn't emotionally strong enough to share such news. Seeing the hopeful villagers crying for their loved ones would definitely break his heart and shatter his courage.
One of the soldiers with him saw that he couldn't answer and responded to the questions instead.
His answers caused cries to thunder across the village square, adding more sorrow to the already sorrowful atmosphere hovering over the people.
After answering the questions about their loved ones, he also went on to share that their deaths weren't in vain, as they had actually been able to defeat the monster on their side.
This news was a little relief to the people, but it didn't remove the pain of losing their loved ones.
Some of the soldiers assisted their colleagues in sharing the news, while Ren could only watch helplessly with a sad look on his face. He felt really ashamed that he had actually tried to run away from the battlefield.
While he was wallowing in self-pity, some of the soldiers from the other side of the walls began to arrive one after the other.
"The monsters have been defeated!" they revealed happily upon arrival.
"A mysterious man appeared out of nowhere and defeated all of them with supernatural powers. He summoned a big fiery ball of flames and defeated a gigantic monster that a hundred of us couldn't even stand against!" they praised Dragun.
"He is definitely a messenger of the ancestors! They are still watching over us!" some of them assumed.
They hadn't seen Dragun's face, and Dragun hadn't even spoken to them, so they just assumed he was a supernatural helper sent by their ancestors.
"What about you guys? How was it over there?" some of the soldiers asked Ren and the men who went with him.
"The same man defeated the monsters for us," one of the soldiers said. "He said his name is Dragun Winterseed. Can you believe it? He even said Lord Rowan sent him. How is that even possible? Lord Rowan doesn't know about our predicament, and Dragun is dead..."
Ren didn't bother to listen to any of them and went into the village square to console some of the villagers who had lost their loved ones.
After consoling them, he began to treat those villagers who had incurred pretty bad injuries while rushing into the village square. He kept his bag on the ground, and the injured ones began to gather one after the other.
Time went by slowly; the soldiers from other parts of the walls arrived gradually, and soon all of them were gathered.
Currently, they were discussing and arguing about the mysterious man.
Even those who saw his face did not believe it was truly Dragun Winterseed, while those who didn't see his face didn't even bother to buy the story of the others.
"How can you say you saw a dead man? You guys must be out of your minds—that man is a messenger of our ancestors; he's no human!"
"Are you calling all of us who saw him fools just because you didn't see his face?"
"You! How dare a delusional man speak to me in such a manner?"
Discussions turned into arguments, and arguments slowly turned into aggressive exchanges of words, on the verge of developing into a brawl.
Nevertheless, they were so engaged in their argument that they failed to notice the figure of Dragun appearing behind them.
Only Ren and some of the villagers watching the arguing soldiers saw him appear out of thin air. Ren decided not to utter a word, while the villagers beside him were just too stunned to speak.
Dragun looked at the soldiers arguing about him and couldn't help but shake his head. "I exhausted all my energy to save you all, and all you can do is talk badly about me behind my back, hmm?"
His voice quickly drew the attention of the arguing men, and they stared at him with strange expressions.
With the help of the moonlight, they were able to notice his resemblance to Rowan, and they immediately believed that it was truly him.
"What? Aren't you supposed to be dead?" one of the talkative soldiers asked.
"Aren't you supposed to keep your mouth shut and do the needful by thanking the person who saved your life?" Dragun scoffed.
The soldiers looked among themselves, confused, and turned to look at him, still failing to believe a dead man was actually speaking to them.
Beside the arguing men, the villagers were still gazing upon the back of the huge figure of Dragun.
Ren decided to explain the situation to them.
"Everyone, this is our savior—he single-handedly defeated all the scary monsters trying to tear our village down. We owe him all our thanks," he announced in a loud voice.
His voice only reached the villagers close to him; those who heard him spread his words across, and in a few seconds, his words had circulated among the people.
They were all struck with disbelief, but they were very grateful.
"Thank you, savior!" they thundered in unison.
Dragun heard the loud shout of the people behind him and stopped reprimanding the talkative soldiers. He turned to them, smiled, and waved his hand, enjoying the looks they gave him—it made him feel like a hero, in contrast to how the people of his own village treated him.
As he waved at them, his face became clearer, and some of them almost mistook him for Rowan because of the resemblance.
This caused another spark of confused whispers, but the thunderous voice of appreciation shushed it.