Arknightcraft Modpack

The Infected patrol squad left without taking anything from the village, even leaving behind some weapons abandoned in fear.

But the state of the villagers was far from good.

The terrifying knight had shaken not just the patrol squad but also the villagers, who were left paralyzed with fear.

Unlike the patrol squad, who at least had the option to flee, the villagers living in this tiny settlement had no choice at all.

Staying meant they might be killed by the knight if he returned. But leaving? That was certain death in the barren, desolate snowfields.

Between a possible death and a guaranteed one, the villagers could only choose the former.

What else could they do? Life had to go on somehow.

So, as the initial terror faded, the villagers rose and began tidying up their homes, scattered and disordered after the patrol squad’s visit, trying to restore their lives to what they were before.

This was the reality for those at the bottom of the social ladder: as long as there was even a sliver of hope, they clung to it to keep going.

Meanwhile, Talulah and Alina, after helping the two elderly villagers—left weakened by their time in the cold—back to their rooms, stepped outside the village.

They were certain Steven would find them. They also urgently needed to confirm a few things with him.

Sure enough, as soon as they left the village and reached a secluded spot, they saw Steven emerge leisurely from the woods, helmet already removed.

Looking at Steven now, Talulah struggled to associate him with the knight from earlier, riding a skeletal warhorse, as if returned from the abyss.

Where was the oppressive aura? All she saw was an idle, carefree street wanderer.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Did I fail to keep my promise? Isn’t this the part where you praise me to the skies?”

Steven looked at the two girls staring at him like he was some kind of monster. He had expected their admiration and applause, not confusion.

Hadn’t he just driven off the Infected patrol squad without spilling a single drop of blood?

Those people would never associate this incident with the villagers. Wasn’t that a perfect resolution to the situation?

“Was that knight really you?”

Talulah’s disbelief was evident as she stared at the boy before her.

“Of course it was me. Who else could it have been? I’ve got quite the knack for theatrics, don’t I? Those guys didn’t suspect a thing.”

Steven spoke with a straight face, rubbing his chin. Strictly speaking, it hadn’t even been much of an act.

After all, those snowmen were snow golems he had crafted with pumpkin heads and snow blocks. Everything else was real, with no trickery involved.

To create the effect of being engulfed in flames, he’d even downed a bottle of [Potion of Fire Resistance] and set himself on fire with a flint, just to achieve that burning aura.

A lot of thought had gone into perfecting the performance.

“It’s not about whether they saw through it or not. It’s about how you managed to pull it off.”

Talulah hesitated for a moment before asking the question that had been nagging at her the entire time.

“Huh? Originium Arts. It’s all Originium Arts. How could a human achieve something like that without them? It’s obviously just an illusion created with Originium Arts.”

Steven had discovered that almost anything could be explained away with “Originium Arts,” and he had grown quite fond of using it as an excuse.

Originium Arts—the ultimate scapegoat!

But such an explanation might fool Alina, but when it came to Talulah, it simply wouldn’t hold up.

No matter how you looked at it, this had nothing to do with Originium Arts.

Forget about the seemingly lifelike snowmen—where did that skeletal warhorse come from? And what about the knight’s awe-inspiring sword strike that parted the snow and ice?

The mark of that strike was still visible at the village entrance. If such a thing could be accomplished by ordinary Originium Arts, then Steven must be some god of war incarnate.

After all, that wasn’t some meticulously prepared, drawn-out attack. Anyone could see it was just a casual slash, the resulting sword aura sketched out effortlessly.

But since Steven insisted on explaining it this way, it was clear he didn’t want others to know what he was truly hiding. Talulah naturally didn’t press further.

This wasn’t a trivial matter. It touched on personal abilities—something no one liked being scrutinized over.

“Let’s set that aside for now. Regardless, I really should thank you properly.”

Talulah bowed deeply, her gratitude evident. She understood exactly what Steven had done and how much risk he’d taken in doing so.

If things had gone wrong, it would have provoked the Infected patrol squad and possibly drawn the attention of the Ursus authorities.

Even now, Steven couldn’t be considered completely safe. The patrol squad members who returned would undoubtedly report the incident to their superiors, and officials would surely send people to investigate.

In extreme cases, it might even attract the Emperor’s Blades. After all, Steven’s earlier display of power wasn’t something ordinary officials could handle.

“Thanks? No need for that. We already agreed, didn’t we? I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart. This is just a transaction—you pay me, I help you. Nothing to thank me for.”

Steven shrugged and subtly stepped aside to avoid Talulah’s bow.

“This…”

At the mention of their “transaction,” Talulah’s composure instantly crumbled. Her face turned bright red, and she was at a loss for words.

Was this guy really that impatient? Or was he just that eager to claim her body?

But Alina was right there! Didn’t he feel even a shred of embarrassment?

“Are you really planning to do it here?”

Talulah motioned toward Alina, who clearly had no idea about the private deal the two had made. Her pursed lips and reluctant expression betrayed her unease.

“Huh? Why not? What’s there to be embarrassed about? Alina can watch if she wants. What’s the problem?”

Steven scratched his head, clearly baffled by Talulah’s reaction. Did Dracos consider spitting embarrassing? What would they do if they had phlegm stuck in their throat—swallow it?

Alina, equally clueless, tilted her head in confusion. Her curious expression made it clear she had no intention of looking away.

“I… fine, whatever!”

Talulah froze for a moment, then sighed. Seeing Steven’s complete indifference, she didn’t know how to respond.

But a promise was a promise. Refusing him now, after he’d fulfilled his end of the bargain, would go against her principles.

With nothing left to lose, Talulah closed her eyes, steeled herself, and stepped forward.

Wrapping her arms around Steven’s neck, she offered him her lips.

But in the next second, an unexpected sensation on her lips caught her off guard. As something pushed past her lips, she realized this wasn’t quite what she had imagined.

Her eyes shot open, and what she saw was Steven holding a familiar glass bottle, the neck of which was now jammed into her mouth.

Her almond-shaped eyes widened in shock, clearly unprepared for this bizarre turn of events.

Steven, however, didn’t seem fazed. He met the astonished girl’s gaze briefly before speaking in an impatient tone.

“What are you staring at me for? Blow!”