The villagers’ expression turned into fear as the Fallen Knight glared at them. Her mere existence seemed to be enough to make them reconsider their actions, and the dwarf in mithril armour was more than enough to tip the scales towards regret. “Do you expect us to believe and trust the words of a devil worshipper?” The old man shouted. He was the only one of the villagers who still had some fight left in him. His eyes continued to burn with passionate belief, and he tightly clenched his fists as he spoke. “You will come and kill us in our sleep!” “I am Thornir, son of the King Under The Mountain.” The dwarf raised his voice. “Do you expect me to steep so low to worship demons? To come and kill a bunch of useless, powerless, helpless commoners in their sleep just because I can?” His eyes glimmered with anger as he nearly spat the words. Kyle flinched, along with the rest of the villagers, though for a much different reason. Thornir, huh? So, he was a prince –

  “Bolt of Light!” He shouted, pointing at the spear wielding player. As a golden orb of light magic leapt from his fingers towards the man, he raised his hands to try and block the spell. Kyle used the momentary lull in battle to take a few steps back. He had no time for much aside from trying to put some distance between him and his two opponents. He bit his lips as his gaze leapt from one player to the other. Luke the Paladin was certainly the more dangerous of the two, but he was slow, and seemed to be enjoying the fight way too much for his own good. The spear guy was much faster and was more focused on ending the fight rather than taking his time like his teammate. “Get back here, mage!” The spear guy shouted as soon as he recovered from the bolt of light he was hit with. He dashed towards Kyle, spear in hand. Kyle gulped, he couldn’t rely just on his magic to get himself out of this. His mana would never be enough to kill them both

Kyle dipped his hand into the cold water of the river. The waterfall roared behind him as he sat by the waterside with his legs crossed under him. He had learned a few things in these past twenty four hours. Number one; the Fallen Knight Aoris was not a good liar at all. She was avoiding him as much as she could, and when he did get her to speak, she gave short, one word answers. Number two; Aoris was still angry at him. For more things than one. She still resented his prying questions, and she was now pissed off because he had nearly died, while acting way too cocky. Number three; someone aside from Kyle and Aoris had been here. At least that was what the footsteps he found in the mud pointed at. He had also found a few strands of crimson hair, but he wasn’t sure of whether that hair belonged to Aoris, or the other woman who spoke with Aoris. He bit his lips as he watched the water flow around his fingers. Was the person he saw behind the wat

The elf’s last breath was a heavy one, filled with pain. Kyle dropped the piece of cloth he had been pressing against her stomach, against the wound that caused her death. He reached for her open eyelids, and gently closed them. Not far from where he was standing, someone collapsed. He forced himself to get up, and rush towards the next dying person. He intentionally avoided looking to his left, towards the battlefield, because he knew all he would see was just death. More death. He helped the younger looking elf get up again. This was just a sharp stinger in his leg. Simple. He used a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood, then removed the black stinger that was the same size and thickness as his forearm. “Stand still,” He muttered, almost absentmindedly, as he pressed some herbs against the open wound. Leaves that the other medics had given him. Things they used to draw the insect’s venom out of the open wound. “Thank you,” The elf muttered, though h

  The smell of charred wood and burnt bodies lingered in the air despite the mild breeze. It was too strong to be washed away simply like that. Too many trees had been burned, too many bodies incinerated. “How are they?” Kyle asked the elven leader as the tall elf stood by the large tree at the heart of the orchard. The wounded had been carried off further up north, to where the smell of death and loss didn’t reach. “Not well,” The elf said softly. He pressed his palm against the large, sickly tree. “It was getting better,” He said with a bitter smile on his lips. “The venom was almost gone, and your Lich’s spell would be easy to revoke as he is our – your – ally. It was getting much better.” Kyle looked away. Seeing the elf broken and distraught like this felt wrong. “I’m sorry,” He finally muttered. “I should have come earlier. I was too late, this happened because of me.” He clenched his fists. It was all that stupid paladin’s fault! Had he no