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Chapter 29 - Getting the team together.

  Colin walked through the village, feeling the curious and piercing gazes of the villagers.

  They whispered among themselves, watching his every move with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

  Ignoring them, he pressed on until he reached the inn.

  The inn’s door creaked open, revealing a humble, almost empty interior. Behind the counter stood a red-haired girl with soft freckles scattered across her face.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of Colin, though her expression was not hostile—just unfamiliar. She simply wasn’t used to someone so different.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she said in a soft voice. “Looking for a room?”

  Colin nodded and stepped closer to the counter.

  “Yes. I’m looking for a place to rest. Nothing fancy. If there’s a bed, it’ll do.”

  “And… what’s your name? Where are you from?” the girl asked, curious.

  “My name is Colin. I came from distant lands—at Betidor’s request.”

  She seemed even more intrigued.

  “You came… because of the demon?”

  Before the conversation could go any further, a tall, red-haired man emerged from the back of the inn. His expression was aggressive, and his gaze seethed with fury.

  “We don’t serve Elves here!” he shouted, pointing toward the door.

  The girl quickly stepped in.

  “Dad, calm down! He hasn’t done anything!”

  “Stay away from him, girl!” the man barked, his voice heavy with disdain. “He’s a killer—just like all the others!”

  Colin remained calm and pulled the falcon insignia from his pocket, holding it up for the man to see.

  “Betidor sent me.”

  The man hesitated, lips tightening. Still furious, he ripped a key off a hook on the wall and tossed it in Colin’s direction.

  “You’re only staying one night!” he growled before storming off.

  The girl, clearly embarrassed by her father’s behavior, lowered her head.

  “I’m sorry about that…”

  Colin nodded with understanding and headed upstairs, straight to his room.

  He dropped onto the bed with a sigh of relief, his feet finally free from the tight leather boots.

  Peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside, he walked over to the mirror. The reflection showed a lean but muscular frame, sculpted by constant travel and hardship.

  Years of outdoor life and a simple, unprocessed diet had built his body in ways no magic ever could.

  Unbothered, he returned to the bed and closed his eyes for a quick nap.

  An hour later, Colin woke, scratching his messy hair.

  he thought, his mind restless despite the rest.

  With practiced efficiency, he laced up his boots and pulled his shirt back on.

  But as he opened the door, he found the red-haired girl standing there—holding a plate of food.

  Her cheeks were flushed red, a mixture of embarrassment and genuine intent to make amends.

  “I… I just wanted to apologize for what my father said…” she murmured, extending the plate toward Colin.

  His stomach growled, betraying his hunger. He glanced at the food, then at her, and nodded.

  “No problem. I understand. And… thanks for the food,” he said, accepting the plate with a faint smile.

  Colin sat back down on the bed with a sigh. The weeks of travel and battle had dulled whatever manners he once had.

  With a nearly primal motion, he held the plate in one hand and began eating with the other, ignoring the cutlery beside him.

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  It wasn’t until he caught the girl watching him from the doorway that he paused and, a bit sheepishly, picked up the fork.

  The girl smiled, slightly relieved, and stepped inside, sitting down beside him.

  “So… you’re a mercenary?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “They say mercenaries don’t always have the best manners.”

  Colin nodded, his mouth full of stew.

  “Is it good?” she asked, watching him.

  “Very,” he replied, still chewing.

  She lowered her gaze, her smile fading into a more somber expression.

  “My father… he has his reasons for hating Elves,” she said softly. “Three years ago, Elves killed my mother. My father was a skilled blacksmith—he forged hundreds of swords for the Empire. The Elves accused him of crafting the very weapons that slaughtered their people. They… they murdered my mother and nearly destroyed our village.

  We came here hoping for a fresh start. For him, no Elf is trustworthy anymore…”

  Colin remained silent, absorbing her story.

  When he finished eating, he looked at her with quiet understanding.

  “It’s all right. Your father was just trying to protect you,” he said, handing her the empty plate.

  “I’ll be leaving at dawn. I have to pick up some friends. Thank you—really. I needed that.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he got up and left the room.

  The girl remained there, holding the plate, her gaze fixed on the closing door.

  “Has he… really gone?”

  [...]

  Colin walked steadily through the poorly lit streets of the village, unfazed by the lingering gazes that followed him.

  When he reached the stable, the place was quiet—save for the occasional muffled neigh or the rhythmic tapping of hooves against wood.

  The horses, sensing a stranger’s presence, stirred uneasily. Colin approached a dark-coated horse whose eyes followed him with cautious curiosity.

  Without hesitation, he extended his hand, letting the animal sniff his palm.

  “I’ll bring you back,” Colin whispered gently.

  The horse, as if sensing the sincerity in his voice, calmed, allowing him to saddle it with swift, practiced movements.

  With the reins firmly in hand, Colin mounted with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times.

  He didn’t look back as he left the stable. With a light pull of the reins and a gentle touch of his heels, he guided the horse out of the village.

  The dust on the road rose softly as a lone rider approached the village.

  Renovich narrowed his eyes, suspicious of the figure in the distance. As the silhouette became clearer, a wave of relief and surprise washed over him.

  “Colin! For the gods’ sake, I thought those damned Bugbears had killed you!”

  Colin dismounted in one fluid motion.

  “I got caught up in something. We need to talk.”

  The two made their way to the nearest tavern, seeking privacy away from prying ears.

  Colin recounted everything: the nearby village, the old man he’d met, and the strange occurrences that had stirred not only the Bugbears but hundreds of other creatures.

  Renovich listened silently, not touching his wine.

  “A demon...? And you accepted a mission to kill it? By the gods, Colin, that’s madness. Bugbears are one thing—but demons? Creatures from the Abyss? One of them wiped out an entire village of mercenaries—

  village—and yet you want to face one?”

  “I know. But the old man said he’d lead me to a fairy.”

  “A fairy? And you believed him?”

  “He seemed convincing. I think it’s worth looking into.”

  “And what about the village? Leave it unguarded?”

  “The creatures have gone further east. They won’t be back for a while.”

  Renovich sighed deeply and downed his wine in one long gulp.

  “I see… Two hours away, huh? Are you taking the girl?”

  “Safira? Yeah.”

  “All right… I’ll gather weapons, leather armor, cloaks. If we’re going to fight a demon, we’d better be prepared.”

  Colin nodded.

  “I knew you’d understand.”

  “I need to check on my daughter first, though. You understand.”

  He patted Colin’s shoulder twice. “Let’s get ready.”

  Jamily watched as Renovich checked over his weapons, inspecting each one with a meticulous eye.

  The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the blades.

  “Renovich, where are you going with all that?” she asked as she approached.

  He sighed, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders.

  “I’m going demon hunting with Colin. It’s not something we can put off.”

  Jamily lowered her gaze, concern darkening her features.

  “Will you be gone long?”

  “No, not too long. We’ll do everything we can to make it quick.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “The children are asleep. I’ve done what I can to keep them calm.”

  Renovich gave her a reassuring smile and headed outside, where Colin and Safira were already waiting. The waning moon bathed the scene in silvery light.

  Gathering her courage, Jamily approached the trio.

  “Colin. Safira. Please… take care of yourselves. And bring Renovich back safely.”

  Colin nodded. Safira gave a small smile and a silent nod.

  “We’ll be back before you even have time to miss us,” Colin said as he mounted his horse and offered a hand to Safira.

  “The creatures won’t return, but tell everyone not to panic.”

  “Understood.”

  Colin turned his horse, and Renovich took one last look at Jamily before disappearing into the night with his companions.

  The inn was quiet when Colin pushed open the door, the bell above giving a soft chime.

  The same red-haired girl was behind the counter, and her eyes widened when she saw Safira following close behind.

  The horned girl with pointed ears was not someone she had expected to see tonight.

  Colin noticed her surprise and gave a reassuring smile.

  “Don’t worry—she’s with me. Could you prepare that delicious stew again? My companions and I would be very grateful.”

  The girl, still slightly awkward but smiling shyly, nodded.

  “Of course! I’ll get right to it.”

  Colin thanked her and made his way upstairs, Safira and Renovich following behind.

  They reached a spacious room with several beds and a sturdy wooden table. Colin sat down while the others settled in.

  Renovich, who had clearly been holding back questions, finally broke the silence.

  “All right, Colin. What’s the plan? What do we do now?”

  The false elf turned to the window, watching as night began to give way to the first hues of dawn.

  “The old man will pick us up at sunrise,” he said calmly. “Our mission is simple: rescue a fairy from the hands of witches.”

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