The Forgotten Village - A Battle Approaches

In the mission hall, the group approached the notice board. Hana pointed to a yellowed piece of paper pinned to it.

— Look at this. Low-level monsters attacking crops and terrorizing villagers.

The Brotherhood has classified it as "low priority".

Akira rolled his eyes.

— Of course they did. No money, no fame. Haruto picked up the paper, examining it carefully.

— It's in a village near Soraoka. We can get there in a few hours. Daichi crossed his arms, serious.

— What if it's a trap? Or something worse? Haruto looked at him, determined.

— We can't ignore it. If we don't do it, no one will.

Satsu felt a chill run down his spine, but also a growing determination.

— I'll go with you.

Haruto smiled.

— I knew you'd say that.

The group set off for the small village in the countryside. The landscape gradually changed as they left the urban bustle behind.

The open fields stretched out like an undulating green blanket under the clear blue sky. Despite the serene beauty of the region, there was something unsettling in the air, a sense of abandonment and struggle.

When they reached the village, a small group of villagers were waiting for them at the entrance, with tired but hopeful expressions.

 A middle-aged woman, her hands calloused by work, was the first to approach.

— Did you really come? — His voice shook, his eyes watered. — We thought we'd never get help.

Haruto smiled gently.

— We're here now. We're not going to let you face this alone.

An excited murmur spread among the villagers. An old man with a gray beard stammered:

— Nobody wanted to protect us before. They said we weren't worth the effort.

Akira, who was normally relaxed and cheerful, felt her heart squeeze as she saw the battle marks on the villagers' bodies.

Some had obvious wounds, while others carried the invisible weight of fear. Farm tools such as shovels, picks and hoes were leaning against wooden walls, clearly used as improvised weapons.

— You fought alone? — Akira asked, incredulous.

The old man nodded slowly.

— We had to protect our families. We don't have warriors, just farmers.

Akira turned to Kaito, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

— That's horrible... They shouldn't have to do that.

Kaito, always shy, silently agreed, stroking Hungry, who seemed to sense the tension of the moment.

A woman with a scarf covering her hair approached, visibly distressed.

— Are there any healers among you? We have wounded...

Yumi immediately stepped forward.

— I'm a healer. Take me to them.

The woman led them to a makeshift shed, originally used to house animals. The acrid smell of dried blood and weathered wood filled the air.

On the floor, men, women and even children were lying on torn towels, with deep wounds and bruises all over their bodies.

Yumi , her eyes watering.

— My God...

She knelt down next to a child with a nasty leg injury.

— I'll take care of you, ? — I said in a soft voice, trying to hold back the tears.

Concentrating, Yumi activated her healing skill "Restorative Touch".

A soft, warm light emanated from her hands, enveloping the child's wound. Gradually, the wound closed up, leaving only a light scar.

She moved on to the next wounded person, repeating the process. Each healing drained her energy more, but Yumi refused to stop. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her hands trembled.

Haruto approached, worried.

— Yumi, you need to rest.

She shook her head.

— I can't. They need me.

Finally, after healing the last villager, Yumi fell her knees, exhausted. Akira ran over to her, holding her by the shoulders.

— Are you all right? — he asked, his voice full of concern.

Before Yumi could answer, her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

— Yumi! — Akira shouted.

Daichi quickly took her in his arms.

— I'm taking her to the village chief's house. She needs a rest.

They made their way to a simple house, where Daichi put Yumi on a makeshift bed.

Satsu watched with concern.

— Is she going to be all right? — he asked restlessly.

Kaito nodded, but his tone was serious.

— Probably. But fainting from using too much mana is dangerous. For summoners and mages, it can be fatal in combat.

— I thought that if you ran out of mana, you simply couldn't use magic. I didn't know you could faint. — said satsu

Kaito sighed.

— That's the problem. When you exceed your limits, the body begins consume its own vitality. That's why we always try to stop before that happens.

He paused before adding:

— The only other time I saw Yumi faint was... well, a while ago.

Satsu's eyes narrowed.

— What happened?

Kaito looked at the bed where Yumi was resting, his expression distant.

— Yumi grew up in an orphanage. From an early age, she looked after the other children, learning healing magic on her own. When she joined the Ebony Wings, she always said that she wanted to give everyone a second chance, because she knew what it was like to be left out.

Satsu listened attentively, feeling the weight of the story.

Kaito continued, his voice .

— We had a complicated mission. There was a group of people trapped in a landslide. Yumi worked non-stop to heal the injured. She saved everyone, but when we finished, she just collapsed. We became desperate.

He paused, trying to control his emotion.

— She was unconscious for three days. Haruto didn't her side for a second.

Satsu felt a tightness in his chest.

— She always tries to save , doesn't she?

Kaito nodded.

— That's her greatest fear. Not being able to save those in need.

Silence fell over them, heavy. Finally, Kaito smiled slightly.

— But she's strong. Stronger than she looks.

Satsu looked at Yumi, feeling a growing admiration.

— I will strive to be as strong as her.

Kaito patted him on the shoulder.

— And we'll help you get there.

In the dim light of the makeshift shelter, the villagers, their faces marked by fatigue and wounds from the fighting, gathered in small groups.

The atmosphere was silent, except for the whisper of the winds outside and the restrained cries of a few elderly people.

 In the midst of this scene of abandonment, Akira, his countenance serious and his eyes glowing with a contained fury, walked slowly towards a group of women and men resting on broken wooden benches.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and, in a voice that was firm but full of vulnerability, asked:

— Tell me... Do you know why the Brotherhood never sends help here? Or why they never hire a mercenary strong enough to face the monsters that plague us?

A heavy silence fell. For a few long seconds, their gazes met, and then a sad-looking old man, with wrinkles that told stories of decades of struggle, spoke in a hoarse voice:

— My dear, they only care about those who have value in their world... Those who can fill their palace coffers. Here, in our village, where we fight with what we have - hoes, shovels and the hope of a better tomorrow

— They always said we weren't worth the effort.

Akira pressed her lips together, feeling each word like a dagger in her own heart.

She knew that reality well. With a bitter, almost imperceptible laugh, she replied:

— I... I know what it's like to be despised. My family, of noble blood, condemned me for not having enough mana to be an elite sorceress. I was always told that I was useless, that I could never carry the name of nobility. That's why I ran away - to prove my worth, to be someone who doesn't bow down in the face of scorn.

The villagers' eyes widened. A woman, with traces of being hardened by life, interrupted, her voice laced with emotion:

— So you were also rejected by those who were supposed to protect you?

I always thought that noble family stories were only for the lucky ones...

Akira looked away for a moment, as if fighting the painful memories, and then resumed with bravado, trying to hide the insecurity that still haunted her:

— That's right. I ran away from a home that never took me in, and I joined the Ebony Wings precisely to have the chance to fight, to show that even the less fortunate can shine. But sometimes I'm afraid of being rejected again... of not being enough.

A deep silence fell over the group. Another villager, a man with a hoarse voice and a sincere look, added:

— Here, we live on the margins. The monsters always come at dusk. We haven't been able to sleep properly for three days now, waiting for help that never comes. Every year, the same pain... and we, without a choice, raise our tools like swords to defend our homes.

Akira tilted her head, her eyes filled with almost contained tears. She took a step forward and, in a trembling but determined voice, said:

— I don't know if you can understand... but I was left behind too. I've always had to fight alone to prove my worth. Today, I'm here, with you, so that together we can show that the forgotten also have strength. And if the rich and powerful don't care, we ourselves will be the change.

Akira's words pierced the silence, and the villagers' collective pain was mixed with a glimmer of hope.

The atmosphere, which had previously been one of desolation, began to overflow with palpable emotion.

Tears flowed silently down their faces, but they were tears of relief and renewed strength.

While the villagers were filled with hope and the tension of the moment was fading, dusk was advancing, bringing with it a threatening darkness.

 It was then that, in an abrupt movement, Daichi raised his sword from its sheath with a metallic sound that echoed through the shelter.

He climbed onto a chair and with a voice full of authority and emotion, declared:

— Listen to me, my friends! For years, we have been left to fight alone, while the powerful ignore our pain. Not anymore! If the monsters dare to attack at dusk, together we will raise our weapons and unite as one heart. For even if the night is long and sleepless, we are the resistance that never bows. We will fight for every life, for every dream that refuses to die in this forgotten land!

Daichi's words, firm and inspiring, tore through the air. A wave of determination swept through the group.

Every villager, every member of the Ebony Wings, stood up with a gleam of courage in their eyes. As darkness approached the people began to prepare for battle. Armed with what they had, the villagers and adventurers positioned themselves, ready to defend their land, their only hope.

In the midst of all the commotion, Yumi remained in her heavy sleep, oblivious to the pain and the impending battle, while the echo of Daichi's words rang out like an oath of resistance.