Chapter 42 - More Than A Wave

The sun was slipping behind the horizon, swallowed inch by inch.

Afternoon was passed fast. Shadows stretched long across the dirt paths and half-built homes.

The air hung thick. Not with heat, but with pressure. Something was coming. Everyone could feel it.

And still, the village worked.

The sound of hammering, digging, chopping. It echoed across the village louder than ever before.

They were working faster, harder, more relentlessly than yesterday. Because they had to. There was no time for fatigue. No room for doubt.

Tobren's group had just expanded the fields yesterday.

Today, without hesitation, they began again, doubling the size. No questions. No complaints. They dug with blistered hands and silent mouths.

The house-building team pushed through until their arms trembled, eyes red from dust and exhaustion, backs bent beneath unfinished beams. And Ren was right there among them.

He had bark dust under his nails. Splinters in his palms. His shirt clung to him, soaked with sweat. His boots were caked in mud and chipped wood.

He wasn't leading from above. He was in it. Barking trees, lifting beams, driving nails.

He worked like a man trying to outrun the inevitable.

And when his strength gave out, he passed off the tools, picked up the map, and slipped away quietly. Unnoticed. He needed to breathe. To think. To hope the map had found something. Anything.

He walked a wide arc along the village's northeastern edge, skirting half-finished fences and newly cleared land. Then turned south, alone.

No marks. No pulse. No glow. Just the normal map like before.

He pushed farther, boots dragging through brittle grass, until the village was just a shape in the distance.

Then finally, he turned west.

Still, the map showed nothing.

But he didn't see it, the thin blue veins that once lay faint beneath the parchment were now growing darker. Thickening. Drawing toward something unseen.

A shape. A direction.

But Ren kept walking, unaware. Alone in the falling twilight, sweat cooling on his brow, heart heavier than ever.

He had given everything today.

And it still wasn't enough.

***

Dinner was held beneath canvas tents, lanterns flickering, casting long shadows over tired faces.

No one spoke much.

Just the soft clatter of spoons on bowls. Some whispered exchanges. But no laughter. No stories.

Not tonight.

They were too tired. And maybe… too afraid.

Then—

A sound.

Low. Rolling.

Wagon wheels.

From the east.

And then another. Louder.

Footsteps.

Many of them.

From the north gate.

Dozens. Maybe more.

Spoons stopped mid-air. Heads turned. Mothers clutched their children closer.

Ren just standing there, heart thudding.

He didn't need to ask. He already knew.

They're here.

He stepped through the tent flap into the night air, boots crunching gravel. His eyes fixed on the north road, the same gate where Helrick had found the fainted man.

From the shadows came shapes.

Then more.

And more.

They didn't come like a wave.

More like… a flood.

Close enough to call it as a tsunami.

Maybe hundreds of them.

Sunburnt. Hollow-eyed. Packs slung over aching shoulders. Some dragged carts. Others carried only the clothes on their backs. A few clutched children close. One man carried a bundle too still to be asleep.

They kept coming…

Like water breaking through a dam.

Ren stood at the gate, unmoving, as the first group approached.

His chest tightened.

They outnumbered the villagers now.

Maybe almost twice over, just by looking.

Behind him, the villagers said nothing. No gasps. No cries. Just silence.

Because they understood.

The Wasteland was no longer forgotten.

People had heard. And they had run.

And they had come here.

Ren felt it all at once:

The weight.

The fear.

The expectation.

This wasn't rebuilding a ruin anymore.

This was survival.

This was war, against time, hunger, and chaos.

He didn't flinch.

He didn't run.

He stepped forward, met the eyes of a gaunt farmer whose daughter clung to his leg, and said quietly,

"You're safe now."

Behind him, the village began to move.

No cheers. No celebration.

Just understanding.

There was no going back.

Only forward.

And Ren had already chosen the direction.

***

Just as the weight in his chest threatened to collapse him. A voice called out.

"Wagon incoming!"

Heads turned east. Lanterns raised.

Another set of wheels. This one familiar.

Sera was back.

The wagon rolled in fast, covered in mud and dust. Horses panting. And behind it, another wagon.

Eight people jumped down.

Ren recognized four immediately: Kaela, Caden, Solen, and Mirana.

They looked tired, but ready. They had returned.

But they weren't alone.

Four more adventurers followed, Ashborn crests visible beneath travel-worn cloaks. Their weapons were clean. Their eyes sharp.

A young man in polished armor stepped forward, sword slung over his back. Calm command in his stance. "Captain Crandor."

Beside him, a woman in red robes shifted her staff and nodded. "Mage Vela."

Behind them, a large, quiet vanguard rested a warhammer on his shoulder. "Garreth."

Last, a healer in pale blue with gentle eyes stepped forward, a silver pendant glinting at her chest. "Elira."

"Guild response team," Crandor said. "Four deployment. You made quite the request, sir."

Ren gave a slight shake of his head. "No need for formality. Just call me Ren."

Sera jumped down beside them, breathless but grinning. "They didn't argue. I used your name. The Trade Union's sending supply wagons, two, maybe three. They'll arrive in a day or two."

Ren exhaled. Some pressure eased, but only just.

He straightened. "We'll need all of you. Starting now."

Crandor looked past him at the refugees gathering along the fence line. "Refugees?"

"Hundreds maybe," Ren answered. "No exact count yet."

"Are they armed?"

"No. Hungry. Tired. Fleeing from Driftwatch."

Crandor's jaw tightened. "Cassian Thornbay?"

Ren nodded.

Kaela stepped forward. "We're with you. Whatever you need."

"I know," Ren said. He turned toward the silhouette of the tower. "We'll use the tower as base camp. Organize your supplies. Set your teams. Once you're ready, we meet there."

He looked over his shoulder, voice firm.

"I'll be waiting."

As the adventurers dispersed and the refugee camp grew louder, Ren stood still, watching it all.

The village had become a lifeline.

But even lifelines can snap under weight.

He looked up at the stars, then down at his hands, still marked with bark dust and blood.

So much was about to change.

And if he failed now, people wouldn't just suffer.

They would die.

But Ren wasn't about to fail.

Not tonight.

He turned toward the tower.

Tonight he should prepare.