*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter - Iron Confederacy, Safe Hollow*
Beastmaster Gorrea dropped the lengthy goblin in the middle of the gathering. The creature was thin, almost skeletal compared to the warriors they'd fought. His skin was a different shade, more gray than green, and his eyes held an intelligence that unsettled those watching.
"Who you be?" Gorrea demanded, massive arms crossed. "You not look like chief. How come you commanding five thousand army?"
The goblin struggled against his bonds, then spoke with surprising clarity despite his crooked accent. "They elected me as their leader. We trying to form order with our resources and wit. But you savages plundered my mine, decimated my brothers camp, and stole my precious metals, ingredients." He pointed with his chin at Demir's orichalcum blade, eyes filling with rage and loss.
Demir stepped forward, Wolf's Vow gleaming in the firelight. "So you are the one behind all this. Trying to form a new country in secret from your high chief."
The goblin's eyes flashed with defiant pride. "If not me, someone else will form new order with what we have. Just wait and see. We not monsters forever."
Demir raised Wolf's Vow, the blade catching moonlight. "No need to talk further with a monster thinking himself revolutionary." With that, he swung. The blade cut clean through, and the goblin's head rolled across scorched earth, his expression frozen between defiance and resignation.
Remaining people started gathering their wounded and dead. The town square had become a battlefield, and now it transformed into something worse. A mortuary.
---
Digging each grave took all day and night. The earth was hard, stubborn, unwilling to accept so many dead at once. Demir and the few who could still stand helped along with Gorrea, Naira, and her bone dragon. The massive undead creature used its claws to break through tough ground, making the work faster but no less heartbreaking.
Alef and Lysara helped survivors, handing out potions and bandaging wounds that covered nearly every person who remained.
The graves formed rows. Almost fifty people had died defending their home. Matthis, who'd stood guard at the northern wall until the very end. Usahn, whose laughter had filled the tavern just days before. Huntress Elandra, who'd taught so many youngsters to track and shoot. And many others whose names Demir had only just learned, whose stories would never be told.
Each grave was marked with simple wooden crosses. Some survivors carved names, others left them blank, unable to write through their grief. Children who'd lost parents stood silent, their tears dried up from crying too much. Parents who'd lost children dug with mechanical precision, focusing on the physical work to avoid thinking about the impossible loss.
Demir worked until his hands bled, until his muscles screamed. He dug graves for people he'd known for only weeks but who had become family. When they lowered Elandra into her grave, wrapped in her hunting cloak, he had to turn away. She'd been so alive, so full of strength and purpose.
Sin helped dig but said nothing. His face was a mask, empty of everything except the mechanical need to keep moving. He dug Timmy's grave himself, refusing all help, refusing to stop even when his hands left bloody prints on the shovel handle.
By the time they finished, dawn was breaking again. A full day and night of burying the dead. Sixty-three defenders had fought the final wave. Fifty had died. Only thirteen remained standing.
---
Demir walked up to Naira, who was making soup for the whole town in a massive cauldron salvaged from the ruins. The smell of vegetables and meat filled the air, incongruous against the backdrop of destruction.
"Good catch with the field beast boss," Naira said, stirring the pot with a ladle the size of a small shovel.
Demir shook off his exhaustion. "What?"
"The giant wolf. It's yours, right?" She gestured toward where Asena lay resting, still wounded but alive.
"You mean Asena? Kind of. Not mine, but she likes me, I think."
Naira smiled slightly. "After Gorrea's beast died, he looked for a suitable bear everywhere. That wolf would be an incredible companion if you can properly bond."
"I mean, I understand the bear, but how did you tame a bone dragon?" Demir looked at the massive undead creature resting near the town's edge.
"It is not really a dragon or beast. All undead are technically robots disguised with fantasy cloaks. If you have this..." She showed a bone-shaped stone that pulsed with dark energy. "They obey you. Simple as that."
Healing started faster than Demir could anticipate, though the wounds ran deeper than flesh. Marco still sat alone in the corner, afraid and ashamed of his miscast that had killed three defenders. Sin sat on top of a toppled wooden wall, staring at nothing, seeing everything. Everyone else gathered around the flame, eating soup and talking about future plans in hushed, uncertain voices.
Roderic took the stand near the fire. He was barely able to remain upright, having lost an eye in the fighting. After his clash against the elites, Demir had thought him dead. His foot was severely damaged, wrapped in bandages that were already seeping blood, and the wound from the magical explosion was still visible, angry and red across his chest.
"First of all, thanks again. Without you, we would all be dead." His voice was rough but carried. "I am glad that this prison of a game didn't take away our humanity."
Alef gave a bitter chuckle from where he sat. "Huh! Humanity." But he didn't continue. Obviously, as a high leveler, he'd seen more action and death than anyone here could imagine.
Roderic continued, gripping a makeshift crutch. "As of today, I am dissolving our town. I am no longer fit to be your leader, obviously. And if anyone is hesitant about going with them to their city, speak now. Because there is no living space for us here as low levelers. We have to take refuge or be killed and enslaved by whoever comes next."
No one spoke against going. The people were beaten up physically and emotionally. Hope had died with the fifty buried in fresh graves.
Naira started addressing the crowd, her voice stronger, more confident. "Hi everyone, I am Naira. Our city on foot takes fifteen to sixteen days, so we should rest a couple of days here before we start. Me and Gorrea will be helping you. Alef and Lysara are actually on another quest. They were going to drop us and be on their way, but they'll probably stay another day."
Demir turned to them, surprised. "What? You are splitting? Why?"
Alef stretched, his scarred face catching firelight. "We were going to the Kingdom of Satar's capital, Parthanon."
"What? Why? Isn't that a local country?" Demir asked.
"Yeah, it's mostly an NPC city. But since it's considered the capital of one of the largest kingdoms, many players live there. The Emperor is okay with them living there as long as they obey the law. It's neutral ground, in a way."
"Why go there?" Demir's interest was piqued.
Lysara answered, her silver hair gleaming. "We heard new items appeared at the market, and there is a tournament going to happen in a month. We want to check out the prizes and maybe buy from the winners. High-level gear sometimes shows up at these events."
Demir started thinking. Going with the town folk to a high player city meant going away from Aris. It was on the opposite side of the planet from where the Chalice territories were. But staying here offered nothing. And in a capital city, in a tournament, maybe he could gain strength, find information, or even encounter someone who knew where Aris had gone.
Demir made his decision. "Can I come?"
Alef looked surprised. "With us?"
"Yeah. Maybe I could join the tournament." The idea was forming as he spoke.
Alef's expression turned serious. "You can come, but don't join the tournament. There is too much death risk. Before, it was okay, but now if you die..."
Lysara interrupted, "Wait. They started a below level 50 tournament. He can attend there. What is your level?"
Alef shook his head. "He is clearly above level 50. Look at that sword and shield. That's endgame equipment."
"No, no. I am level 12," Demir said.
"What?" Alef's jaw dropped.
"What? How?" Lysara leaned forward, staring at him like he was speaking another language.
Naira approached, drawn by the commotion and away from the crowd. "What's going on here?"
"He is saying he is level 12," Lysara said, still disbelieving.
Naira's expression shifted to understanding. "I mean, Lex said there was a young man with strange title ideas. I assumed it was Demir. But level 12, as tough as you fought? Bravo. That's impressive work."
"I ground hard to make these items. And apparently, player-made items have more stat points than found gear. Those kept me standing through everything," Demir explained.
Alef stood up, animated. "You made the orichalcum blade? Get out. That's master-level crafting!"
Naira's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "What is your theory on these titles? Lex mentioned you had ideas about the system changes."
Demir and the rescuer group started talking about his proven theory, about how everyone in town had started getting interference Bzzt notifications after grinding specific skills. Gorrea joined the conversation, his massive form settling near the fire.
"It took me nearly ten years to reach Beastmaster level 80," Gorrea rumbled. "How did you get a title to tame a field beast boss?"
"First of all, I didn't tame her yet," Demir corrected. "She just... tolerates me."
Naira frowned thoughtfully. "We are working hard, grinding constantly. I didn't get any interference notifications."
Demir gathered his thoughts. "Imagine it like this. You made your leveling brick by brick, building it up over years. But the new system, I think it's the locals' way of living. Getting titles is not like laying bricks. It's like carving out a house from stone. If you didn't actually carve the house, you have nothing to show for it. And since you're level 80, your skills are already a giant building. Grinding skills you already have won't be as visible at that high level."
Naira's eyes widened with understanding. "So if I were to grind cooking, I'd get interference notifications because I haven't developed it yet. But for necrotic spells that I've mastered, I'd have to get almost to the last title to trigger a Bzzt?"
"Exactly so," Demir confirmed.
"But that puts low-level grinders at an advantage," Naira observed.
"No, it doesn't. Marven and Huntress Elandra used bows almost every day, but they weren't level 80 archer level. After certain titles, your grinding isn't helping. You have to do something more, something different." He added, "I think."
Marco approached, still shaken by the events, his face pale and drawn. "I heard from a distance you don't want to leave with the group."
"Yeah, sorry Marco. I am leaving with them to Parthanon. If I'm in the biggest city, I'm sure I have more chance to run into Aris or find information about him," Demir explained gently.
Marco's voice was small. "It is okay. I want to come with you too. After everything, after what I did... I can't go with them. I can't face them every day."
Demir looked at the young mage, seeing the guilt eating him alive. "Marco..."
"Please. I cannot face them, not yet..." His voice broke.
Demir looked at Alef and Lysara questioningly.
Alef sighed. "The more, the merrier, I suppose. But you need to understand something. What happened in battle, those misfires, they happen. You're not the first mage to hit friendlies, and you won't be the last."
"That doesn't make it better," Marco whispered.
"No," Lysara said softly. "It doesn't. But it's truth."
The fire crackled between them. Around the flames, survivors talked quietly, making plans, saying goodbyes that would come in a day or two. Somewhere in the ruins, Sin still sat alone with his grief. And in the rows of fresh graves, fifty souls rested, their stories ended in defense of a home that no longer existed.
Safe Hollow had fallen. But its people would survive.