The peace was short-lived. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the Whispering Vines along the riverbank began to tremble, their whispers rising into a sharp hum. Arin froze, his hand on a spade, his eyes darting to the vines. "They're sensing something," he said, his voice low. Naya gripped her staff, her qi rune glowing brighter. "Trouble," she said, her gaze scanning the horizon. The villagers tensed, their tools dropping as they gathered behind Arin, fear rippling through the crowd.
A dozen Iron Fang warriors emerged from the treeline, their black armor glinting in the fading light, their fang-shaped masks casting eerie shadows. They moved with deadly precision, their swords drawn, qi crackling along the blades. At their head was a captain, his armor adorned with crimson runes, his presence colder than the elder Arin had faced before. "The farmer," he called, his voice a low growl. "You were warned. Now you'll pay."
Arin stepped forward, his heart pounding but his voice steady. "This is our land," he said. "We're not fighting—we're growing. Leave us be." The captain laughed, a harsh sound that echoed across the field. "Defiance has a price," he said, raising his sword. "Burn the field." The warriors surged forward, their blades igniting with fiery qi, aimed for the Amrita Grains.
Arin acted on instinct, dropping to his knees and pressing his hands into the soil. "Om Bhumi Namah," he murmured, channeling qi into the earth with all his strength. The Whispering Vines responded, their tendrils shooting upward, weaving into a barrier of glowing green. The warriors' blades struck the vines, sparks flying as the qi clashed, but the vines held, their roots deep and unyielding. Arin pushed harder, sweat beading on his forehead, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The vines thickened, their whispers rising into a protective hum, shielding the field from the flames.
Naya joined him, her staff planted in the ground, her own qi flowing into the vines. "Hold them!" she shouted, her voice fierce. The villagers rallied, some grabbing tools to defend the field, others channeling what little qi they could into the soil, their efforts small but collective. Kael stood at Arin's side, his staff raised, a faint glow shimmering around him. "We're with you, Jade Farmer," he said, his voice steady.
The captain snarled, his sword slashing through a vine, but the plant regrew, its qi stronger now, bolstered by the village's unity. Arin felt the strain, his body trembling, but he held on, the land's heartbeat syncing with his own. The Iron Fang warriors faltered, their fiery qi dimming against the vines' resilience. "Fall back!" the captain barked, his eyes burning with rage. "This isn't over, farmer." The warriors retreated, their footsteps fading into the dusk, leaving the field intact but the air heavy with tension.
Arin collapsed to his knees, exhaustion washing over him, his vision swimming. Naya caught him, her arms steadying him, her touch grounding. "You did it," she said, her voice soft but filled with pride. "You protected the field." Arin managed a weak smile, his breath ragged. "We did," he said, his eyes on the villagers, their faces a mix of relief and awe. Even Torin's group, who'd watched from a distance, looked shaken, their doubt wavering in the face of Arin's resolve.