Chapter 5

The trio of Xain, Larkin, and Zee were shocked by this revelation. "Do you mean a massacre?" Zee asked, and the old villager nodded gravely. "Yes, they want to kill everyone that lives here," he confirmed. Grace spoke up again, her eyes fixed on the road leaving the village, "That bastard's already killed everyone that tried to get help from the outside and now made up this quarantine shit to make sure nobody helps us."

"Who is this Verandez guy? I never heard of that name or the family name of Rasanto," Larkin questioned, pondering, *This guy has to be a big deal if he can hire so many mercs.* The old villager sighed before answering, "Verandez and his family are lesser nobles, but they're just a family that has a lot of coin, calling themselves nobility."

"You said you don't exactly know why he wants to kill you. What do you mean by that?" Xain asked, considering that there had to be some reason, though not to justify Verandez's actions. "Like he said, we don't know the exact reason, but we know that it had something to do with Levarick," Grace explained as Larkin sought more information, asking, "And who was that exactly?" The old man replied somberly, "He was Wolfdale's priest and the first person the mercenaries killed."

"He was attacked by that bastard's mercenaries but managed to escape. Unfortunately, he succumbed to his injuries before he could clarify what had happened and why he was targeted," Grace explained, her gaze fixed on the village and a building resembling a church of Sarandel, the goddess.

"Levarick was a good man. Whatever occurred, we know it wasn't his fault. But the attacks commenced after his death. They trailed him back here. After failing to annihilate us with brute force, they turned to starving us out. We're not a big city or town, so we need to regularly venture out for food and supplies. They blocked off all exits, not allowing a single person to leave. Even the few who managed to escape were never heard from again," the old man added, weariness etched in his eyes.

Xain was disturbed by this, sickened even, as he looked at the villagers around him — men, women, and children, each with their own relationships, families, and lives. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, friends. People simply living their lives. *How can anyone do something like this?* Xain pondered. He had encountered monstrous beings like Eirisse just a day ago and desperate individuals like the Shadow Baron a day before that. However, those situations were different; one involved a creature beyond redemption, no longer a person, while the other was someone driven to extremes for survival in a foreign world. This, though, was distinct — a ruthless assailant massacring an entire village, and the victims were unaware of the reasons behind their slaughter.

While Xain was lost in his thoughts, Larkin detected an inconsistency that raised his suspicions. "Wait, they couldn't kill ya'all through brute force? How in the hell did ya survive attacks from seasoned mercs?" Larkin inquired, his expression one of perplexity. It seemed highly implausible that a group of villagers, none of whom appeared capable of combat, could fend off entire mercenary companies.

"Our priest fought them all off and protected us," Grace explained, prompting a quizzical expression from Larkin. "Your priest? Isn't he dead?" Larkin questioned. Grace nodded, "Levarick is dead, but the priest he appointed before his death is the one who's been keeping us safe from the attacks." The explanation didn't entirely clarify how the villagers had been surviving. Larkin thought, *A man of faith protecting an entire village from mercs? Unless this guy is a priest blessed by the goddess herself, I doubt that.*

Xain shook himself out of his thoughts, a challenging task now that he was back to having only one voice in his head. "Can we do anything to help?" he asked, his offer leaving Larkin wide-eyed, while Grace and the old man looked surprised.

Larkin grabbed Xain before telling the villagers, "Sorry, we need to talk for a sec. Talk to Zee; she's great," as he dragged Xain out of earshot of the villagers. Zee, feeling a bit nervous, looked around at the villagers before turning to the old man. "Um, I don't think we got your name yet," she said.

The old villager chuckled, "Oh, sorry, forgot to introduce myself. I'm Collin, Collin Serf," he said, offering his hand for a handshake. Zee shook his hand and then turned to Grace. "You haven't told us your full name yet," Grace scoffed, "Well, neither have you, so why should I?" Zee smiled, replying, "Zee Qinra. Now, what is your name?" Grace squinted at Zee before looking away and saying, "I don't have a last name; I only got the first."

Meanwhile, Larkin confronted Xain, demanding, "Why the hell did ya ask them that?" Xain, genuinely confused, responded, "What do you mean? I just asked if we could help." Larkin, sounding annoyed, shook his head, "I can see that, but why?" Xain, still puzzled, asked, "Why? What do you mean why?" Larkin clarified, "Why do you want to help them?" Xain couldn't fathom what Larkin was driving at. "Old man, do you want to leave these people to just die?" he asked, gripping Larkin's jacket collar.

Larkin sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't, but we don't have a choice, Xain. We have to keep moving," he said, as Xain clenched his fist, maintaining his grip on Larkin's jacket collar. "What are you talking about? We had enough time to help Triton, so why are these people different?" Xain exclaimed as Larkin pushed him away. "Calm down, kid. Sigh, listen, Xain, yesterday was different. We didn't have much of a choice back then, but we do now, ya understand?" Larkin explained as he straightened his jacket.

Xain, without uttering a word, turned back toward the villagers. "Hey! Where the heck are y—" Larkin's sentence was abruptly cut off as Xain shot him a glare. Even if it was just a fleeting glimpse, Larkin could discern the seething Hatred in Xain's eyes. It sent a shiver down his spine, forcing him into silence. Larkin knew all too well what Xain was capable of when that look took over his eyes. He gulped, fear clawing at him. It was clear Xain's Hatred wasn't something he wanted directed at him, so Larkin averted his gaze, unable to meet Xain's eyes.

As Xain ceased his glare, he resumed walking toward the villagers. It didn't matter to him whether Larkin joined him or not. Even if he had to face this challenge alone, he was determined to help these people. He had already broken one promise, so he couldn't afford to break another.