The sun had begun to dip slightly lower in the sky, casting a mellow gold across the plains and shadowing the path Noah walked. It wasn't paved or clearly marked, but there were signs that feet had trodden it many times — patches of flat grass, breaks in the tall weeds, and the occasional wooden post half-buried in dirt. He figured it was more than just a trail someone had used this route to go somewhere with purpose.
And as Noah followed its quiet curve southward, a low structure came into view.
Two wooden towers flanked a gate-like opening, each barely taller than a treehouse, and a four-meter-high wall of bundled logs stood behind it. Perched atop it, a figure stood still as stone, a bow in hand, the arrow drawn but not released. Noah stopped short, blinking up at them. The archer didn't move.
At the base of the gate, two guards stood on either side. But these weren't human.
Tall, lean figures with pale, angular faces, long pointed ears, and piercing blue eyes stared him down. Their clothes were simple — patchwork tunics with faded greens and browns. Their swords were metal, but their sheaths were cracked, and their boots looked as though they had seen more years than they should have.
Elves.
Noah froze in place. He didn't breathe for a moment. He'd never seen an elf in person — only imagined them from books or films. They were supposed to be ethereal, distant, impossibly elegant.
These ones looked tired.
One of the two stepped forward and raised a hand. "Stop there."
Noah nodded and raised both hands. "Okay. No problem."
The second elf, a woman with short white-blond hair tied in a knot, circled him quickly and began patting him down without asking. Her eyes darted to his arms and then narrowed.
"What's this?" she asked, pointing to a strange bruise-like mark just below Noah's right elbow.
"Oh," he said, remembering Heatlot. "I, uh… I had an encounter with a Solumbrian. Accidentally stepped into their camp."
Both guards straightened slightly. Even the archer above shifted, lowering her bow, though she remained watching.
"You survived?" the first elf asked, more skeptical than surprised.
"Barely. He didn't kill me. Burned my arm a little, but mostly just… scolded me and let me go."
The woman scoffed. "You're lucky. Solumbrians don't fight for land, but they hate humans. Especially weak ones."
"Thanks," Noah said, rubbing the back of his head. "Nice to hear that's consistent."
"They don't invade," the man added, "but we don't provoke them either. Their fire magic cuts through our shields like hot water through wax. It's better to avoid them than to fight. We've been fortunate. So far."
There was a weariness in his voice that made Noah frown. Then, without thinking, he tilted his head and squinted.
"Is it weird to ask…" he began.
The two guards looked at him cautiously.
"...why is your hair so fluffy? And your eyes, they're so blue it's kind of unfair."
There was a long pause. Then the woman gave a short laugh, the first sound of amusement Noah had heard all day.
"Is this one serious?" she said to her partner, who shook his head in disbelief.
"I—" Noah raised his hands again. "Sorry! That was weird, right? I just haven't seen an elf before. You're both… I mean, you look amazing. Not like the ones in those fantasy posters back home. I guess it's just hitting me that this is real."
The man's stern expression cracked slightly. The woman leaned her weight onto one hip and gave him a more curious look.
"You speak like a man who's never known anything outside himself," she said, not unkindly. "You're too honest for your own good."
"I get that a lot," Noah muttered.
"Name?"
"Noah"
The two elves exchanged a look.
"You're not carrying weapons," the woman noted. "No bag. No food. No companion. No magic aura."
Noah shook his head. "I'm… sort of new to this place."
"Clearly."
The elf man lowered his hand and stepped aside slightly. "You may enter. But you'll be watched. Any tricks, any lies, and you're out. Understand?"
"Crystal," Noah said, giving a nervous smile.
The wooden gate creaked open, and Noah stepped past the guards into the elven village.
--
Noah stepped forward cautiously, half-expecting to be stopped again. Instead, one of the elves — a lean, younger-looking one with pale blonde hair and a sharp, but not unfriendly face — fell in step beside him.
"You'll have an escort," said the elf woman from before, gesturing to the new arrival. "Valinish. He's on reserve duty."
Noah glanced over. The elf's build was thin, wiry even, and he moved with a lightness that made almost no sound against the dirt path.
Valinish gave a small nod, but didn't speak.
Noah nodded back awkwardly. "Hi."
Still nothing.
They walked in silence, the village gradually revealing itself beyond the wall, but not in the way Noah had imagined.
There was no elven elegance here. No mystical shimmer or graceful buildings of old.
Instead, the village was somber. Wounded.
Dozens of tents had been set up across the open space behind the wall, many of them stained and patched. Elves lay inside, wrapped in bandages, some groaning softly in pain. Others sat beside them, dabbing wounds or feeding them bitter-smelling herbs. A few open fires burned low, with iron pots bubbling over them, likely boiling roots or medicines. The scent in the air was sharp , earth, smoke, and blood.
Noah slowed his steps.
He didn't say anything, but the weight settled in his chest like a stone. Whatever this village had once been, it wasn't now. These people weren't proud guardians of ancient forests. They were surviving something brutal. And barely.
Valinish walked beside him, eyes ahead, silent as stone. His face held no expression, but his hands were clenched slightly at his sides.
Noah didn't ask questions. Not yet.
He looked around once more as the sun dipped lower and the sky took on a pale orange hue, casting long shadows across the wounded.
Something had gone very wrong here.
And for the first time since arriving in this strange new world… Noah felt the world's pain as more than just scenery.
It felt real.
It felt personal.
He said nothing as they walked further in.
The chapter closed with the distant crackle of fire and a village steeped in quiet mourning.
---
Later that night, Noah was given a small wooden hut to rest in. There was no bed, just woven matting, but it was enough. He sat cross-legged for a while, staring at his hands. Thinking.
He hadn't done much, really. But people kept telling him he was... different. Was it really that rare to just be decent?
As he lay back on the mat and closed his eyes, something strange happened.
A faint shimmer flickered across his vision. Then, as if part of a dream, a translucent screen appeared in front of him, floating inches above his eyes.
Species: Human
SBT combat rankings: 12
Unique Skills:
Resolve Echo(LV- 1)
Noah blinked. "What the hell...?, again?"
The screen didn't respond to his voice. It simply floated there, calm and quiet. He instinctively tried to swipe at it. Nothing happened. Then, after a moment, it vanished on its own — like mist dissolving.
"What was that?" he whispered to himself. Not again.
Whatever it was, it left one thing very clear.
He was weak.
But maybe… not forever.
END OF CHAPTER
-------------------------------------------------------------
Skill Name:
Resolve Echo
---
Skill Type:
SBT Trait | Reflective-Offensive | Emotion-Driven
--
Resolve Echo allows Noah to reflect a single incoming attack—physical or magical—back at its source with double the original force.
However, the power of the reflection scales with Noah's current mental state, specifically his willpower, ambition, and emotional drive at the moment of impact. The clearer and stronger his sense of purpose, the more devastating the counter.
This means the attack may reflect at:
2x- power if Noah is fully aligned with his goals.
1.5x- or less if he's emotionally unstable, hesitant, or afraid.
0x-Not at all if his will falters completely.
---
Rules:
Reflects only one attack at a time.
Has a cooldown, tied to mental and physical fatigue. It can't be used in rapid succession.
Cannot be activated subconsciously—requires a moment of focused intention.
Does not reflect passive damage (e.g., environmental effects, poison).