The sun was soft that morning, filtered through the trees like a blessing after a storm. The village bustled with whispers, both of awe and concern. The battle against the Dreadmaw had been won—but at what cost? Light, now standing as a Marshal and summoner of the Hale-Borne, had become a figure too big for the small village to comprehend.
Still, life must move on. Wounds needed healing, structures needed rebuilding, and hearts—well, those needed time.
---
Elira – The Herbalist Girl
The small herbal shop near the village center was filled with the scent of crushed leaves and simmering salves. Light stepped inside quietly, his right arm bruised and his shoulder bandaged from the last fight. Elira was working in silence, her hands deft and practiced.
She didn't look up.
"You should've come sooner. That arm could get infected."
"I've had worse," Light said, voice low.
Still no eye contact. Only when she was dabbing alcohol onto his wound did she whisper:
"You can summon an army of the dead… can you bring back my brother too?"
Light didn't reply. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a single glowing herb—its petals shimmering like starlight.
"Soulbloom," he said, placing it on the table. "It grows only where warriors rest in peace."
She stared at it, then him. Her hands trembled—but she didn't cry.
---
Ryke – The Farmer's Son
Ryke had been trailing Light all morning. The kid was barely sixteen, carrying a wooden sword he made himself.
"Hey! Can your ghost army teach sword fighting? Do they do cool flips? Can they talk?"
Kyle, walking nearby, rolled his eyes. "Sure, if you're fine with ghostly hands correcting your grip mid-swing."
Eventually, Ryke's father came stomping in.
"Ryke! Back to the fields, now!"
But Light raised a hand. "Let him stay."
He walked up to Ryke and took the wooden sword.
"Your grip is wrong. Stand like this."
He corrected the boy's stance, his touch light, his movements precise. For once, Ryke fell silent, focused. Kyle watched with a smirk.
---
Old Man Daro – The Retired General
At night, Light sat by the lakeside. The moon hung heavy above. Old Man Daro sat beside him, holding a flask.
"You know," Daro said, "when I first met you, I thought you were just another glorified puppet of war. But now? I see it. The silence. The weight."
He took a long drink.
"The more you command shadows, the more they whisper back. Don't lose your soul trying to save others, boy."
Light stared at his reflection in the water.
"I saved too many. But never the one who mattered."
---
Mission: Echoes Beneath the Mine
A runner arrived before dawn.
"The mine collapsed! Miners are trapped… and something's down there. We heard… noises."
The council didn't hesitate. Light was assigned the mission.
Team:
Light
Kyle
Reven, the shadow-beast from Barak's army
Elira (she insisted on coming for medical aid)
Ryke (who snuck in unnoticed)
The tunnels were damp and strange, glowing with blue mana veins. Deeper inside, they found strange claw marks and broken mining gear.
They were ambushed by a twisted creature—a miner, warped by crystal corruption. Light held back Kyle and let Reven take it down. Ryke nearly got trapped in a pit, but Light yanked him out just in time.
In the deepest chamber, Elira read runes that spoke of a forgotten gate—a sealed path to something ancient.
As they left, a figure watched from the darkness.
"So… the Marshal awakens the Old Path again," the man whispered.
---
Return to Village – Campfire Bonds
The group returned under a blood-orange sky.
That night, a campfire was lit. Laughter echoed. Ryke mimicked sword moves. Elira cooked stew. Daro hummed an old war hymn.
Light sat apart, polishing his blade. Kyle walked over, holding a roasted fish.
"You're not alone anymore, brother. Not this time."
Light looked up. The fire danced in his eyes—but for the first time in days, they were warm.
The Chapter will Come With Vol 2.