By the time we reached Ridgebrook, the sun had sunk low, painting the sky in bloody streaks of red and orange. Villagers gathered near the square, staring as we entered—wolf corpses slung over Borrik's shoulders, dried blood streaking across Vlad's pale arms.
Lira immediately rushed toward the healer's hut to grab bandages. Borrik started barking orders, telling people to prepare the carcasses. Around us, whispers spread freely. Loud enough that I caught every word.
"Is that really a man?"
"He killed a Rank 3!"
"He's not even breathing hard."
"Chief Liam brought him… what else can he bring?"
"Maybe he's cursed."
"Or blessed."
"Or very, very stupid."
That last one stung.
Vlad ignored them all. He stood calmly in the center of the square, blood drying on his skin, completely at ease. Deep claw marks ran across his shoulder, still bleeding, yet he didn't spare them a glance.
Lira returned, eyes sharp.
"Sit," she ordered.
Vlad blinked. "You dare command—"
"SIT."
He sat.
I tried not to laugh. I failed. Lira shot me a glare next.
"You're next. You almost died."
"I tripped," I said. "Artistically."
"You're an idiot," she muttered as she wiped blood from my cheek. "But you're our idiot."
That felt better than it should have.
She turned back to Vlad, carefully cleaning the torn flesh on his shoulder.
"You're reckless."
"I am victorious," Vlad replied.
"Barely," she snapped. "You're Rank 1. That beast was Rank 3. You should be dead."
The square fell quiet.
Borrik finally asked the question everyone was afraid to say out loud.
"Chief… how can a Rank 1 man kill a Rank 3 beast? Even with help, that shouldn't be possible."
Damn it.
This was it.
I straightened my shoulders and forced confidence into my voice.
"Because he's not from any kingdom you know."
Everyone leaned closer
"He comes from a distant northern frontier tribe," I continued. "They train their bodies differently. He's used to fighting monsters stronger than himself."
Vlad raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.
Borrik rubbed his beard. "He fights like a demon, but with a soldier's discipline. The north, huh… that explains his clothes."
"It explains nothing," Old Merin said, coughing loudly. "I've traveled north. Never saw a man like him."
I looked at him. "When did you go north?"
"In a dream," he replied with a shrug.
The villagers groaned.
Lira finished tying the bandage around Vlad's shoulder.
"You're lucky I'm good at this."
"I do not believe in luck," Vlad said calmly. "Only strength and strategy."
That line hit hard. The villagers nodded, whispering in approval.
Great.
They were starting to admire him.
That was somehow more terrifying than fear.
As the carcasses were dragged away and the square slowly settled, Lira pulled me aside.
"What really happened out there?" she asked quietly.
"Beasts attacked," I said. "We survived."
She studied my face—too observant, too sharp.
"You're hiding something."
My heart pounded. "I hide many things. Mostly bad decisions."
"Liam." She stepped closer. "There's something about you. About him. About how you fought together."
If she learned the truth now, I'd lose everything.
So I gave her a different truth.
"We're not strong," I said softly. "We're desperate. And desperate people fight smarter."
She watched me for a long moment.
Then she pressed a hand briefly against my chest.
"Just don't become someone we fear."
"I'm trying," I said.
She left me there, unsettled.
Later, a firepit was set up in the square to butcher the wolf meat. Children peeked from doorways, watching Vlad like he was a living legend—or a nightmare. Vlad sat alone by the fire, silent, watching the flames dance.
I joined him.
"You handled the cover story well," I said.
Vlad smirked. "In my lands, lies are tools sharper than blades.
"You're not supposed to encourage me."
"You lead," he said. "They obey. That is enough."
"Barely."
He considered that. "Fear is the seed. Respect is the flower. Soon, both will grow."
"…Did you just compare leadership to gardening?"
"Yes."
"…Huh."
We sat in silence for a while.
Then Vlad spoke again.
"Tomorrow, we hunt."
"No," I said immediately. "Training first. I'm not letting villagers follow you if they can't swing a stick without crying."
Vlad chuckled softly. "Good. Strength takes time. Fear takes moments. You will need both."
I shivered.
Not because he was wrong.
But because he was right.
Night fell.
The village slept.
Vlad didn't.
Neither did I.
The Summoner's Ledger pulsed faintly in my mind.
[SUMMON STABILITY: SECURE]
[BOND LEVEL 1 MAINTAINED]
[NEXT SUMMON AVAILABLE IN: 29 DAYS]
Twenty-nine days until another unpredictable historical lunatic entered my life.
Wonderful.
Lying under the pale moonlight, I replayed everything—the fight, Vlad's cunning, Lira's suspicion, the villagers' fear slowly turning into belief.
This world was changing fast.
And somehow…
I was becoming someone they trusted.
A chief.
A liar.
A strategist.
A survivor.
I closed my eyes and whispered into the dark.
"Please let the next summon be sane."
The wind didn't answer.
It rarely brought good news.