Chapter 8: The Forgotten Village - A Battle Approaches
In the mission hall, the group approached the notice board. Hana pointed to a yellowed piece of paper pinned to it.
"Look at this. Low-level monsters attacking crops and terrorizing villagers. The Brotherhood has classified it as 'low priority.'"
Akira rolled his eyes.
"Of course they did. It doesn't bring money or fame."
Haruto took the paper, examining it carefully.
"It's in a village near Soraoka. We can get there in a few hours."
Daichi crossed his arms, serious.
"What if it's a trap? Or something worse?"
Haruto looked at him, determined.
"We can't ignore this. If we don't go, no one will."
Satsu felt a chill run down her spine, but also a growing determination.
"I'll go with you."
Haruto smiled.
"I knew you'd say that."
The group set off for the small village in the countryside. The landscape gradually changed as they left the hustle and bustle of the city behind. Open fields stretched like a swaying green blanket beneath a clear blue sky. Despite the serene beauty of the area, there was something unsettling in the air—a sense of abandonment and struggle.
When they reached the village, a small group of villagers were waiting for them at the entrance, their expressions weary but hopeful. A middle-aged woman with hands calloused from work was the first to approach.
"Did you really come?" Her voice trembled, her eyes brimming with tears. "We thought we'd never get help."
Haruto smiled gently.
"We're here now. We won't let you face this alone."
A murmur of emotion spread among the villagers. An elderly man with a gray beard stammered,
"No one wanted to protect us before. They said we weren't worth the effort."
Akira, who was usually easygoing and cheerful, felt her heart sink when she saw the battle scars on the villagers' bodies. Some had obvious wounds, while others bore the invisible weight of fear. Farming tools like shovels, pickaxes, and hoes were leaning against wooden walls, clearly used as makeshift weapons.
"You fought alone?" Akira asked in disbelief.
The old man nodded slowly.
"We had to protect our families. We don't have warriors, only farmers."
Akira turned to Kaito, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.
"This is horrible... They shouldn't have to do this."
Kaito, always shy, silently agreed, petting Hungry, who seemed to sense the tension of the moment.
A woman with a scarf covering her hair approached, visibly distressed.
"Are there any healers among you? We have wounded..."
Yumi immediately stepped forward.
"I'm a healer." Take me to them.
The woman led them to a makeshift shed, originally used to shelter animals. The acrid smell of dried blood and aged wood filled the air. On the floor, men, women and even children were lying on torn towels, with deep wounds and bruises scattered across their bodies.
Yumi swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears.
"Oh my God..."
She knelt beside a child with a nasty wound on his leg.
"I'll take care of you, okay?" she said softly, trying to hold back her tears.
Concentrating, Yumi activated her healing ability, "Restorative Touch". A soft, warm light emanated from her hands, enveloping the child's wound. Little by little, the wound healed, leaving only a faint scar.
She moved on to the next injured person, repeating the process. Each healing drained more of her energy, but Yumi refused to stop. Sweat was running down his forehead, and his hands were shaking.
Haruto approached, worried.
"Yumi, you need to rest." She shook her head.
"I can't. They need me."
Finally, after healing the last villager, Yumi fell to her knees, exhausted. Akira ran to her, holding her by the shoulders.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.
Before Yumi could answer, her eyes rolled back and she fainted.
"Yumi!" Akira shouted.
Daichi quickly picked her up.
"I'm taking her to the village chief's house. She needs to rest."
They made their way to a simple house, where Daichi laid Yumi on a makeshift bed.
Satsu watched everything with concern.
"Will she be okay?" he asked, uneasily.
Kaito nodded, but his tone was serious.
"Probably. But fainting from using too much mana is dangerous. For summoners and mages, it can be fatal in combat.
Satsu frowned.
"I thought that if your mana ran out, you simply couldn't use magic. I didn't know you could faint."
Kaito sighed.
"That's the problem. When you push yourself beyond your limits, your body starts to consume its own vitality. That's why we always try to stop before that happens."
He paused before adding, "The only other time I've seen Yumi faint was… well, a while ago."
Satsu's eyes narrowed.
"What happened?"
Kaito looked at the bed where Yumi lay, his expression distant.
"Yumi grew up in an orphanage. Ever since she was little, she took care of the other children, teaching herself healing magic." When she joined the Ebony Wings, she always said she wanted to give everyone a second chance, because she knew what it was like to be left behind.
Satsu listened intently, feeling the weight of the story.
"But..."
Kaito continued, his voice deepening.
"We had a complicated mission. There was a group of people trapped in a landslide. Yumi worked tirelessly to heal the injured. She saved everyone, but when we finished, she simply collapsed. We were desperate."
He paused, trying to control his emotion.
"She was unconscious for three days. Haruto didn't leave her side for even a second."
Satsu felt a tightness in her chest.
"She always tries to save everyone, doesn't she?"
Kaito nodded.
"That's her biggest fear. Not being able to save those in need."
The silence fell over them, heavy. Finally, Kaito smiled slightly.
"But she's strong. Stronger than she looks." Satsu looked at Yumi, feeling a growing admiration.
"I'll try to be as strong as she is."
Kaito patted her on the shoulder.
"And we'll help you get there."
Meanwhile, in the darkness of that makeshift shelter, the villagers, their faces marked by fatigue and injuries from the fight, gathered in small groups. The environment was silent, except for the whisper of the winds outside and the restrained crying of some elderly people. Amidst that scene of abandonment, Akira, with a serious expression and eyes shining with contained fury, walked slowly towards a group of women and men who were resting on broken wooden benches.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and, in a firm but vulnerable voice, asked:
"Tell me... Do you know why the Brotherhood never sends help here? Or why they never hire a mercenary strong enough to face these monsters that plague us?"
A heavy silence fell. For a few long seconds, their eyes met, and then an old man with a sad look, with wrinkles that told stories of decades of struggle, spoke in a hoarse voice:
— My dear, they only care about those who have value in their world... With those who can fill the palace coffers. Here, in our village, where we fight with what we have – hoes, shovels and the hope of a better tomorrow
— They always said we are not worth the effort.
Akira pressed her lips together, feeling each word like a dagger in her own heart. She knew that reality well. With a bitter, almost imperceptible laugh, she answered:
"I... I know well what it is to be despised. My family, of noble blood, condemned me for not having enough mana to be an elite sorceress. They always told me that I was useless, that I could never carry on the name of the nobility. That was why I ran away – to prove my worth, to be someone who would not bow down to contempt."
The villagers' eyes widened. A woman, with traces of hardening by life, interrupted, her voice choked with emotion:
"So, you were also rejected by those who were supposed to protect you?" I always thought that stories of noble families were only for the lucky ones...
Akira looked away for a moment, as if fighting against painful memories, and resumed with bravado, trying to hide the insecurity that still haunted her:
"That's right. I ran away from a home that never welcomed me, and I joined the Ebony Wings precisely to have the chance to fight, to show that even the least fortunate can shine. But sometimes I'm afraid of being rejected again... of not being enough."
A deep silence fell over the group. Another villager, a man with a hoarse voice and sincere eyes, added:
"Here, we live on the margins. The monsters always come at dusk. We haven't been able to sleep properly for three days, waiting for help that never comes. Every year, the same pain... and we, without a choice, raise our tools as if they were swords to defend our homes."
Akira bowed her head, her eyes filled with barely contained tears. She stepped forward and, with a trembling but determined voice, said:
"I don't know if you can understand… but I was also left behind. I always had to fight alone to prove my worth. Today, I am here, with you, so that together we can show that the forgotten also have strength. And, if the rich and powerful don't care, we ourselves will be the change."
Akira's words pierced the silence, and the collective pain of the villagers mixed with a glimmer of hope.
The atmosphere, which had previously been only desolation, began to overflow with a palpable emotion. Tears streamed silently down their faces, but they were tears of relief and renewed strength.
As the villagers filled with hope and the tension of the moment diluted, dusk advanced, bringing with it a threatening darkness. It was then that, in an abrupt movement, Daichi raised his sword from its sheath with a metallic sound that echoed through the shelter. He stood on a chair and, his voice full of authority and emotion, declared:
"Listen to me, my friends! For years, we have been left to fight alone, while the powerful ignore our pain. Today, no longer! If the monsters dare attack at dusk, we, together, raise our weapons and unite as one heart. For even if the night is long and sleepless, we are the resistance that never bows. We will fight for every life, for every dream that refuses to die in this forgotten land!"
Daichi's words, firm and inspiring, rent the air. A wave of determination ran through the group. Every villager, every member of the Ebony Wings, stood up with a gleam of courage in their eyes. As darkness approached, the people began to prepare for battle. Armed with what they had, the villagers and adventurers took their positions, ready to defend their land, their only hope.
Amidst all the commotion, Yumi remained in her deep sleep, oblivious to the pain and the impending battle, while the echo of Daichi's words resounded like an oath of resistance.