Satisfied with Ronan's response, the doctor handed Ronan a book detailing various creatures with medical benefits. "This book only contains monsters known for their healing properties," the doctor explained.
By the afternoon, Ronan was officially discharged from the hospital. As he stepped outside, he turned to the doctor again. "What about the other victims? Were they discharged as well?"
The doctor nodded. "Yes, they were all released today."
Just then, a little girl ran up to Ronan and grasped his hand, her eyes bright with excitement. "Good afternoon!" she chirped.
A man and a woman approached behind her, her parents. "Good afternoon, Ronan", they greeted warmly.
Ronan returned the greeting with a gentle smile. "Good afternoon. How are you all feeling? Are you heading back to your village now?"
The man nodded. "Yes, we're finally returning home today."
Ronan hesitated for a moment before asking, "Would you mind waiting a little? I'd like to come along."
The couple exchanged glances before smiling. "Of course. We'll wait for you."
As they walked away with their daughter, Ronan made his way to the hospital gates, where Mr. Alden and Mr. Alaric stood waiting.
"Sir," Ronan said, addressing Mr. Alden, "I'd like to visit Willowshade village before returning to the academy. I'll check if Kael, Darius, Garrick, and Sylphie want to join me."
Mr. Alden gave him an approving nod. "That's fine, but Alaric and I need to return to the academy today. Take care of yourself."
Ronan bowed his head slightly in gratitude. "I will."
At the inn, the entire group was gathered. Ronan walked in and glanced around before greeting them, "Good afternoon, everyone."
Kael looked up and gave him a nod. "Good to see you up and about, Ronan. Feeling better?"
"Much better," Ronan confirmed. Then he turned to Kael. "I plan to visit Willowshade. You're welcome to join me, or you can head back to the academy."
Kael exchanged a look with the others before grinning. "Of course, we'll tag along."
Mr. Alaric then stepped forward. "Orin also wishes to go. In that case, Aria, Orin, Selena, Eryk, and Leon might as well go with you."
Ronan smiled. "Sounds good. Then let's leave now."
Mr. Alden placed a firm hand on Ronan's shoulder. "Take care, all of you."
On their way out, Ronan and Orin stopped by a florist's stall, each picking out a bouquet of flowers before continuing toward the city gates.
At the entrance of Eldergrove, the man, the woman, and their little daughter waited patiently. When they saw the group approaching, they exchanged warm greetings before Aria stepped forward and, with a flick of her wrist, summoned a large magical flying ship.
The little girl's eyes widened in wonder, and the moment the ship landed, she squealed with excitement and dashed aboard, giggling as she explored every corner.
Onboard, Ronan approached Garrick and looked at his injured hand. "How's it feeling now?" he asked with concern.
Garrick flexed his fingers slightly and gave a faint smile. "Better than before."
Ronan patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "You'll be healed soon. Just hang in there."
The magical flying ship soared into the sky, gliding smoothly toward Willowshade. As the landscape stretched below them, the group settled in, ready for the journey ahead.
The golden hues of the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over Willowshade Village as Ronan, Orin, Aria, Selena, Eryk, Leon, Kael, Darius, Garrick, and Sylphie arrived. The village, though small, exuded a peaceful charm with its rustic houses and the gentle rustling of willow trees lining the paths.
A man and his wife stepped forward to greet them, their faces brimming with gratitude. " We will arrange rooms for you at the inn," the man offered warmly.
Ronan, ever the free spirit, flashed a grin. "Thanks, but we won't be staying long. We'll be leaving today."
The couple exchanged glances before the woman spoke earnestly. "At least stay for the night. Last time, you saved us, but we never got the chance to properly thank you."
Ronan chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I heard your village is famous for its meat dishes. How about you pack us some food instead?"
Before they could respond, an elderly man approached with a slow, steady gait. His presence commanded quiet respect.
"Then so be it," he said in a deep, weathered voice.
Ronan and Orin turned to him with polite nods, in unison, and greeted him, "Good afternoon." Ronan asks, "Village Chief. How have you been?"
The old man chuckled, his eyes twinkling with familiarity. "I never thought you would return so soon."
Ronan looked at the others. "You should explore the village while you can. I'll visit the graveyard first."
Orin silently fell into step beside him, and the two walked through the village, eventually halting before a charred ruin—its blackened remains standing as a haunting reminder of the past. The air smelled faintly of ash despite the passage of time.
Orin frowned. "What happened here?"
The village chief sighed, his expression darkening. "The noble from the Flamecrest family came searching for the girl. When he learned that both she and her brother had perished, he flew into a rage, set the house ablaze, and left without a word."
Ronan's hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing. Instead, he simply turned and continued toward the graveyard.
Upon reaching the rows of simple headstones, Ronan and Orin retrieved delicate flowers from their storage rings, kneeling before a particular grave. They placed the flowers carefully at the foot of the stone, bowing their heads in silent prayer.
The village chief joined them, murmuring his own respects before exhaling deeply. "Ronan. Orin. Don't blame yourselves. There are countless tragedies like this in the world. Many never even get the chance to utter their final wishes. You both did everything you could to save this village. Many of us perished that day, but because of you, others survived."
Ronan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the engraved name before him.
The village chief continued, his voice steady yet gentle. "The world is filled with suffering like this. But listen to me—do not hold onto this guilt so tightly that it consumes you. Let it strengthen you instead. Do not be entangled by sorrow or obsession. Learn from it. Understand it. Use it to drive you forward."
Ronan exhaled sharply, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "How?" he asked quietly. "How do we just move on? How do I ignore the feeling that someone died because I wasn't strong enough? How do I stop thinking that if we had arrived just a little earlier, they might still be alive? How do I stop feeling so… powerless?"
His voice trembled slightly, and Orin looked away; his jaw was tight. The burden of their past failures hung heavy between them.
The village chief placed a firm yet reassuring hand on Ronan's shoulder. "You don't forget, Ronan. You carry those feelings with you, but you don't let them weigh you down. Instead, let them remind you why you keep moving forward. Strength doesn't come from burying emotions—it comes from understanding them."
Ronan inhaled deeply, letting the words settle. Finally, he nodded, though the storm in his eyes had yet to clear.
After a few more moments of silence, Ronan and Orin rose. The three of them made their way back to the village, where the others were already gathered. The villagers handed them carefully wrapped bundles of food, their expressions filled with quiet gratitude.
"Travel safely," the village chief said. "And remember, our doors will always be open to you."
Ronan met his gaze, his smile faint but genuine. "Thank you. We'll be back."
With that, they set off once more, the weight of the past still lingering—but now, perhaps, just a little lighter than before.