(Chapter 16)
The plaza that had only moments ago been a battleground was now alive with voices.
Cheers erupted, echoing through Ethille's central square as townsfolk rushed in from every direction. Where panic had once reigned, gratitude now filled the air. The scent of smoke and scorched stone still lingered, mingling with the sweet aroma of summer flowers from nearby stalls. Cries of relief and laughter clashed with the distant groans of those tending to minor injuries, creating a symphony of life that had somehow survived the chaos.
"The wyvern is dead!" a man shouted, raising his hands in triumph.
"They saved us!" cried another, pointing toward Azre and Enix, who now stood side by side, battered but unbroken.
Azre, still clutching her side where a jagged burn and bruises marred her armor, blinked in disbelief as she was surrounded by relieved citizens. Every hand that touched her shoulder or elbow sent jolts of guilt and pride coursing through her at the same time. A woman ran forward, scooping up the lost child she had been searching for into her arms. The girl buried her face into her mother's neck, peeking briefly at Azre with wide, trusting eyes.
"Thank you, big sister knight! Thank you, big brother with the flaming sword!" she squeaked, waving with both hands.
Azre smiled gently despite her exhaustion, offering a bow that was as graceful as it was weary. Her armor bore scratches, the glow of her staff's divine light still faintly clinging to its edges. Enix, on the other hand, rubbed the back of his neck, visibly awkward under the attention. "Ah… it was nothin'," he muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying not to meet anyone's gaze.
The cheering only grew louder. Children tugged at Azre's cape, desperate for attention, while others marveled at the faint glow still lingering on Enix's blade, whispering to each other in awe. Then, from somewhere in the crowd, a lone voice spoke, cutting through the jubilation:
"They make a fine couple, don't they?"
The words hit like an arrow.
Azre's eyes widened, her face flushing crimson. "C...Couple?!" she stammered, nearly choking on her own breath. Preposterous! "Utter nonsense!" Her composure crumbled, and she waved her hands as if trying to erase the suggestion from existence.
Enix's jaw dropped. "What the hell me and her?!" He nearly tripped over his own boots, pointing accusingly at the air. "Oi, you blind or just dumb?!"
The crowd only laughed louder, a mix of amusement and teasing. A gaggle of young women giggled into their sleeves, while an elderly man clapped his neighbor on the back.
"See the way they stood together? That's fate!"
"A knight and her flame how romantic!"
Azre's ears burned, her breath quickening. She stomped a foot, glaring at Enix who, in turn, jammed a toothpick between his teeth to hide his embarrassment. "Should've let the wyvern eat me…" he muttered under his breath, muttering to no one in particular.
The comedy of the moment faded as the sound of armored boots clanging against stone drew closer. Captain Viera strode into the plaza, her cloak sweeping dramatically behind her. Her eyes were sharp, scanning the aftermath with the precision of a tactician. Behind her, acolytes tended to the wounded, whispering words of encouragement while applying salves and bandages.
"Azre," Viera said firmly, her tone carrying both reprimand and acknowledgment, "you stood when you should still be resting. But I cannot fault your instincts." Her gaze shifted to Enix, lingering a moment longer. "And you, stranger… your flames turned the tide. Who are you?"
Enix gave a nonchalant shrug, leaning lightly against a post. "Name's Enix. Just a drifter."
Viera's eyes narrowed, reading him like a book. "Not anymore," she said finally. "You will come to the military camp. We have questions, and you have answers." Her voice left no room for argument, and even Enix had to nod in acknowledgment.
The crowd parted as knights escorted the two away. Whispers spread like wildfire, rumors of the knight and the flame swordsman who had slain a wyvern together. By the time they reached the southern camp, stories of their "bond" had already outpaced their own arrival.
The camp itself was alive with activity. Tents flapped in the wind, cooks carried trays of food, and the distant sounds of hammers on armor marked the relentless preparation of soldiers. Eldhar, Aven, Rowan, Thalia, and Nilda, though still weary from the day's battle, emerged to meet them. Their eyes immediately fell on Enix.
"So this is the flame-spitter?" Rowan smirked, arms crossed, leaning casually on the hilt of his sword. "Looks scrawnier than I expected."
Enix's green eyes twitched dangerously. "Say that again, loudmouth. I'll cook that smug grin right off your face," he muttered, though there was a faint hint of humor beneath the threat.
Thalia stifled a laugh, the sound delicate but teasing. "Oh, I like him already," she whispered to herself, though her cheeks flushed slightly at how the stranger carried himself with quiet confidence.
"Enough," Eldhar cut through, his tone firm and commanding. His gaze settled on Enix, assessing him as one would a weapon newly discovered on a battlefield. "You saved lives today. Tell us what you know."
Enix leaned against a tent pole, crossing his arms, his face thoughtful. "There was someone else," he said finally, voice low and careful. "A hooded figure. Standing atop the bell tower, watching. I felt his mana surge before the wyvern appeared. He summoned it."
The knights stiffened. A hush fell across the camp. Even the wind seemed to pause in recognition of the revelation.
"Are you certain?" Viera asked sharply, leaning forward.
"Certain as I'm standin' here," Enix replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. But there was a cold fire behind his eyes, deadly serious. "I didn't move on him. Better he thinks he's still in the shadows. Let him believe we didn't notice. Makes him sloppy."
Aven frowned, rubbing his jaw. "So this isn't just a wyvern attack… Someone's directing these monsters. Someone with power… and intent."
Rowan stepped closer, placing a hand on his sword's hilt. "And that someone isn't a simple bandit or rogue mage," he added, voice tight with the memory of battles past. "Whatever that figure wants, it's personal."
Azre, leaning against a post with her hands still glowing faintly from residual divine energy, gritted her teeth. "They're testing us… taunting us. First the wyvern, now this," she murmured. "We can't underestimate him or them. Whoever sent that creature, he's powerful, calculated, and he wants something."
Thalia's gaze drifted to Enix briefly, an unreadable expression passing across her features. "And we just drew attention," she whispered quietly, almost to herself, "to ourselves. I can feel it."
Nilda, ever perceptive, stepped closer. "Then we prepare. We heal. We train. And we watch. Whoever this hooded man is, he made a mistake coming into a city with knights ready."
Enix smirked faintly again, though the weight behind his gaze betrayed the calm demeanor. "We'll see. But for now… we survive. That's step one."
Eldhar nodded slowly, observing the group. "Then it's agreed. We gather intelligence, fortify Ethille, and anticipate what comes next. If this figure truly has the power to summon wyverns and manipulate shadows, we will need more than courage alone."
The sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon, casting long, creeping shadows across the camp. Fires burned in the distance, flickering light across anxious faces, but there was a sense of unity forming a resolve that, though tested, had not broken.
Azre's eyes met Enix's one last time as he prepared to move toward the inner camp. There was recognition there, an acknowledgment of shared battle, of unspoken understanding. Neither spoke it aloud, but both knew: the next storm was coming.
And when it did, only those ready, those strong enough to face darkness with fire and light together, would survive.