As the smoke settled,
the villagers stood frozen—eyes wide, hearts pounding.
There, amidst the ruins and bodies, Ren stood, drenched in blood.
His small frame wavered, but he remained upright.
From the rooftop of the shattered church, a man shouted, voice echoing:
"He won! The kid killed it!"
Cheers erupted.
Cries of joy and disbelief rippled through the battered village.
Even the wounded, lying broken on the ground, felt a strange surge of relief wash over them.
Tears streamed down faces.
Laughter, sobs, and prayers all collided in the air.
But Ren didn't react.
He turned silently, his eyes dark and distant, and began walking toward the church—
each step slow, heavy, deliberate.
The old dwarf staggered forward, arms wide, tears glinting in his eyes.
"Well done, kid!" he shouted, moving in for an embrace.
But Ren walked past him—
ignoring everything.
His eyes burned with something deeper than exhaustion—
a heat, wild and dangerous, smoldering behind his bloodstained face.
From his body, a silent bloodlust began to pulse…
and even in victory, the air around him trembled
He reached the great wooden doors of the church and slumped against them, his breathing ragged.
His legs trembled, threatening to collapse beneath him.
The doors creaked open, and the villagers—faces lit with awe and gratitude—gathered around him.
They cheered, cried, and reached out with trembling hands,
gently touching his blood-matted hair, patting his back with love and reverence.
To them, he was a miracle. A savior.
But Ren barely noticed.
He stepped inside the church, each movement labored, his legs shaking beneath the weight of pain, exhaustion… and something darker.
He stopped in the center aisle.
Before him, seated calmly in the shadows, was a man.
Ren stared at him.
Then, through cracked lips, he spoke:
"You know… mana flickers in different ways, depending on emotion. My friends taught me that."
The man raised his head slightly, unbothered. "So what?"
Ren's expression hardened.
His hand shot forward—
grabbing the man by the neck, lifting him effortlessly into the air.
The man choked, feet kicking, hands clawing at Ren's wrist.
But Ren's eyes didn't blink.
They burned.
Ren lunged forward and began punching the man.
Each strike landed with brutal force—blood burst from the man's nose, his mouth, his already swollen eyes turning a furious red.
The villagers gasped and moved to stop him, but none dared get too close.
Ken rushed in and grabbed Ren from behind, pulling him back.
"What are you doing, idiot?!" he shouted.
But Ren didn't stop. His fists trembled with rage.
"Where are the kids? Where did you keep them?"
The man coughed blood, wheezing, but finally muttered,
"Underground… beneath my house… in a hidden room."
The crowd fell silent—shocked, pale, frozen.
"Why?" Ken barked, voice shaking.
The village chief stepped forward, anger burning in his eyes.
"We trusted you. You were family."
The man gave a crooked smile, blood staining his teeth.
"Old man… It was all for money."
He laughed, a sick, gurgling sound. "After I was ruined... this was the only way."
Ren seized his collar again.
"What were you going to do with them? Who told you to do this?"
The man's smile twisted cruelly.
"They were going to be transported… after the goblins destroyed the village. I was going to sell them."
Ren's voice was a growl. "Where?"
The man looked up, eyes shining with madness.
"The city of Solmire," he hissed. "You fools really thought this world ran on kindness? Just tru—"
THUNK.
Blood sprayed across the dirt as the old dwarf swung his axe and cleaved the man's head from his shoulders.
"Shut up," the dwarf muttered.
Some time later…
The hidden room beneath the traitor's house was found—just as he said.
The villagers broke through the old wooden floor, revealing a narrow staircase that led into darkness. The air below was cold, musty, and still. Torches were lit. Hearts pounded.
And then—they found them.
Children.
Dozens of them, huddled together in the shadows. Dirty, shivering, eyes wide with fear. Some cried out when they saw the light. Others simply stared, too weak to speak.
"Mama!"
"Papa!"
Screams of relief filled the air as parents rushed forward, scooping their children into trembling arms. Tears flowed freely—joy, sorrow, guilt all tangled into one.
Ren stood at the top of the stairs, watching.
He didn't move. He couldn't.
His fists were still clenched. His breathing heavy.
The chief stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You saved them, boy."
Ren didn't answer.
He looked down at the families reuniting, the sobbing, the laughter, the shaking hands—and he didn't feel joy.
He felt hollow.
He whispered under his breath,
"I need to save others too"
As Ren stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth touched his face—then his legs gave out.
He stumbled forward and collapsed onto the ground, face-down in the dust.
"I… I can't walk now," he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
"Please… carry me."
Ken blinked, then let out a short laugh—tired, but full of affection.
"Same as the day you arrived," he said, kneeling down beside him.
He carefully turned Ren over and crouched low.
"Alright, up you go."
He hoisted Ren onto his back, carrying him with ease.
"Now rest, Ren."
And before they even reached the edge of the square,
Ren's head slumped against Ken's shoulder.
He was already asleep.
A few weeks passed.
Ren sat quietly beneath a tree by the river, the breeze soft, the water glistening under the afternoon sun.
Beside him sat Sofia.
She glanced at him, a faint smile on her lips.
"So… you really became a hero."
Ren nodded slightly.
"Yeah."
She leaned in a little, her voice lower now, her eyes filled with a quiet sadness.
"Do you really have to go? Can't you stay here… with me? Forever?"
Ren looked away, his gaze drifting across the flowing river.
"There are people still waiting… waiting for hope. And I have to finish what my friend started. His dream."
Sofia hesitated, then leaned in closer—eyes trembling, lips parting.
"I love you."
Ren gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her just inches away.
His voice was soft, but firm.
"You won't have a future with me. I can't promise I'll live long enough to give you one."
He took a slow breath, then stood.
With his back to her, he whispered,
"Forget me, Sofia. Live a normal life… one without scars."
And with that, he walked away—leaving the river, the tree, and her behind.
And the days passed.
One quiet afternoon, Ren was sitting at the table, eating alongside Ken.
Suddenly—a knock at the door.
Ken stood up and opened it.
The village chief stepped inside, flanked by the other village elders. Their expressions were solemn, yet kind.
Ren looked up, startled, his heart skipping a beat.
His thoughts raced.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The chief stepped forward and said gently,
"Kid… we want to have a statue made. Of you."
Ren stared, stunned. Disbelief washed over his face.
He turned to Ken's wife, who was cleaning dishes nearby.
She nodded and gave him a warm smile.
Ren looked back at them all.
"Are you all sure? Doesn't the real hero get that kind of honor?"
The chief smiled.
"The council has decided—you are the one. This village will always look to you as a ray of hope. It will always be your home."
And more days passed.
Until finally… the day came.
Ren stood at the village gate. Behind him, the entire village had gathered. Many were crying.
They weren't just saying goodbye to a boy.
They were parting with a brother. A son. A savior.
Ken's little son rushed forward and threw his arms around Ren.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Brother… please come back. I'll be waiting for you!"
Ren hugged him tightly, then pulled away with a smile.
"Take care of everyone until I return."
The old dwarf stepped forward, his gruff voice trembling.
"Kid… make sure you come back with stories."
He handed Ren a sword, wrapped in cloth.
"I've forged every bit of love, care, and hope into this blade. May it protect you until its last swing."
Ren accepted the sword, then hugged the dwarf tightly.
The dwarf grunted, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Just go already."
Then the chief approached, hands shaking as he held out a leather pouch.
"Take this… some coins. It'll help on the road. And when you reach Solmire… go register at the Adventurer's Guild."
Ken stepped forward last, holding a white cloak with a golden border.
"Sofia stitched this for you," he said quietly.
"I don't know where she went, but… she left this."
Ren took the cloak with care and wrapped it around his shoulders.
"How do I look?" he asked, forcing a small smile.
Ken's wife stepped forward, eyes glistening.
"Just like a ray of hope."
Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet—his name engraved on it.
He handed it to the chief.
"This will help you in the future… and keep it. As proof that I was here."
The chief held it close to his heart and nodded.
Then Ren turned toward the road.
He started walking—each step heavier than the last.
Each bond, each memory, pulling at him like invisible threads.
His eyes welled with tears.
But he never looked back.
And he kept walking.
Meanwhile…
Sofia entered her room, her eyes heavy with sadness.
She sat quietly on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the floor.
That's when she noticed an envelope resting on the table.
Her breath caught.
With trembling fingers, she picked it up and slowly opened it.
Inside… was a letter.
She unfolded it carefully. The handwriting was unmistakable—it was from Ren.
"I can't live a life of regret,
and I can't give you the peaceful life you deserve.
So I'll keep walking this path.
For as long as my legs carry me.
But I want you to live.
Live for me.
Live a life filled with love, with laughter… build a family.
You will always live in my heart."
Sofia pressed the letter to her chest, her eyes already brimming with tears.
Then she noticed something else inside the envelope.
She reached in—and pulled out a necklace.
A silver chain with a ruby at its center.
On the back, engraved in delicate lettering:
"You live in my heart – Ren Solas."
Her hands trembled as she read the next line in the letter, though her vision was now blurred with tears:
"This necklace is proof that I love you."
The letter slipped from her hands as she began to cry—quiet, aching sobs that filled the stillness of the room.
meanwhile
Ren walked down an empty road, the wind gently tugging at his white cloak.
He reached up and gripped it lightly, as if feeling the warmth of the one who made it.
A soft smile crossed his face.
And he kept walking.