Thirty minutes later, Mr. Alden returned with a doctor and a squad of reinforcements. The doctor immediately took over from Ronan and Orin, whose hands trembled from mana depletion.
"Young man," the doctor said, placing a hand on Ronan's shoulder, "if not for you, they wouldn't have lasted until I arrived. Blazing Restoration is difficult magic. It requires good control. You should be proud to accomplish this at such a young age."
Ronan nodded weakly, exhaustion pulling at him.
The mayor approached Mr. Alden, his face grim. "Some of our young children were taken, including that boy's sister." He pointed to the lifeless boy who had fought so desperately.
Mr. Alden's expression darkened as he looked at the lifeless boy, who seemed to have been controlled. "His sister?"
The mayor nodded. "They were orphans. A nobleman came here a few days ago, harassing her and proposing she become his concubine. When the boy tried to stop him, they beat him within an inch of his life. She… she agreed to become a concubine to save her brother. The nobleman promised to return in fifteen days."
Ronan clenched his fists, fury simmering beneath his exhaustion.
"That boy was weak," the mayor continued, voice hollow. "But after the incident, he grew stronger overnight. Then… this happened."
Mr. Alden stared at the burning remains of the village, his hands clenching into fists. "Those children are in danger."
The doctor approached. "The injured will recover, but they need proper care. I'll take them to Eldergrove in the morning."
Mr. Alden nodded, then turned to his men. "We're going after those children."
He pointed at two soldiers. "Go to Eldergrove and bring more reinforcements." Then, to another three, "You're with me. The rest, stay here and protect the villagers."
He turned to Ronan and Orin. "You two are coming."
They didn't hesitate.
As they left the burning village behind, a storm of vengeance brewed in their hearts. The night stretched on, thick with silence, as Mr. Alden, Ronan, Orin, and three other men combed the outskirts of the village under the pale light of the full moon. The air was heavy with tension, the scent of damp earth mingling with the distant echoes of the village's earlier devastation.
Mr. Alden narrowed his eyes, activating his perception skill, Keen Eye. Faint, shimmering mana trails flickered into view, remnants left behind by magic users. He scanned the ground methodically, following the glowing wisps that stretched westward, leading them toward the forest.
"I've found something," he murmured, his voice hushed but firm. "The trail leads into the forest, west of the village. Stay close."
Without hesitation, the group pressed forward, their footsteps muffled by the thick undergrowth. The dense canopy cast long shadows across their path, making their journey even more unnerving. Hours had passed since the initial attack on the village, but the weight of the horrors they had witnessed still lingered in the air.
As they neared the forest's depths, the towering silhouette of a mountain loomed before them. The mana trails converged at its rocky base, vanishing as if swallowed by the stone itself.
Orin furrowed his brows. "Did they just... disappear?"
"No," Mr. Alden said, stepping closer. "They're inside."
He activated Keen Eye once more, his vision piercing through the veil of deception. A subtle distortion shimmered at the mountain's surface, and an illusion concealed an entrance.
One of the men clenched his fists. "We should break through it."
"No," Mr. Alden countered. "We don't know what's waiting for us inside. If we disrupt the illusion without care, we could alert them. We need another way."
"We don't have an Illusion Master," another man pointed out. "Breaking it quietly won't be easy."
Mr. Alden reached into his pocket, pulling out a metal token he had confiscated earlier from one of the fallen hooded men in the village. "Every one of them carried one of these. It must be a key."
As he held up the token, the illusion wavered and dissolved, revealing a dark, yawning cave. Two hooded figures stood just inside, unaware of their discovery.
With swift precision, Mr. Alden lunged forward, striking down one of the sentries before he could react. The other barely had time to gasp before the remaining men silenced him. Their bodies crumpled to the ground, the cave swallowing the sound of their demise.
"Move in," Mr. Alden whispered.
Ronan and Orin exchanged glances before following the group inside. The cave walls were damp, the air thick with an unsettling stillness. The deeper they ventured, the stronger the stench of blood and decay became.
Then, faint cries reached them.
Then, faint cries reached them—the sobs of a girl and a boy. Pleading voices. "Save us... Please, God... someone, help us!"
The desperation in their tones sent chills down Ronan's spine. His grip tightened on his sword as dread coiled in his stomach. This wasn't just some story about bandits and villains; this was real. He had witnessed death before in the village and had struggled to heal those beyond saving, but this time, confronted with such raw suffering, it felt different, personal.
Mr. Alden's voice was low but urgent. "Move faster. Stay sharp."
They quickened their pace, deeper into the tunnel, the cries growing louder. Ronan and Orin could feel their hearts pounding, their emotions a storm of rage, sorrow, and something darker, hatred. How could people be this cruel? How could they inflict such suffering on the innocent?
When they finally reached the end of the passage, they emerged into a large, torch-lit chamber.
And what they saw nearly stole the breath from their lungs.
Children—some no older than ten, others in their late teens- huddled together in cages, their faces streaked with tears, bodies marred with bruises and cuts.
The air in the cave was thick with the metallic stench of blood, mingling with the damp, musty scent of decayed stone. A dim, flickering crimson glow pulsed from the centre of the chamber, casting elongated shadows across the jagged walls. In the middle of the room, a sinister altar stood, a large triangle etched into the stone floor, with each of its three corners marked by a perfectly drawn circle. Within each circle, a hooded figure sat in eerie stillness, their black robes swallowing the feeble light.
At the heart of the triangle, a girl in her mid-twenties lay bound in thick iron chains, her frail body convulsing as she screamed in agony. Her voice, raw and hoarse, echoed throughout the cavern, each cry sharper than the last. A pulsating red aura seeped from her chest, drawn into the hands of the hooded figures. The glow, like liquid fire, snaked its way toward them, feeding their dark ritual.
Ronan's vision blurred with fury. His breath came in ragged gasps, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his sword so tightly it trembled. "I won't let this happen," he growled, stepping forward.
A firm grip on his shoulder stopped him. Mr. Alden's gaze was steely as he met Ronan's burning eyes. "Not yet. You two wait here. We'll handle this."
Ronan's entire body shook, sweat beading down his face. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to move, to fight, to stop this. But Mr. Alden's hand remained firm.
With a slow, shuddering breath, Ronan forced himself to nod. "...Okay."
He stepped back, but the fire within him only burned hotter.
The hooded men would pay.
Every. Last. One of them.
From the shadows, Mr. Alden and his three men burst into the open. "Stop! What are you doing?!" Alden's voice was sharp, laced with fury and urgency.
One of the hooded figures, still seated in his circle, lifted his head slightly, revealing only the faintest glimpse of a twisted smirk beneath his hood. Without hesitation, he ordered the other two men, "Stop them. Do not let them come near me."
The two figures responded in unison, their voices hollow and devoid of emotion. "Yes."
With a flick of their wrists, they conjured grotesque, humanoid poppets, twisted effigies with jagged limbs, their hollow sockets burning with an unnatural red light. The constructs lunged forward, their movements erratic yet unnervingly precise, striking at Alden and his men.
Steel clashed against claw as Alden and his men fought off the monstrous creations, their faces set in grim determination. Meanwhile, the girl's screams grew louder, her body writhing as the red essence was torn from her very soul.
Ronan and Orin stood at the cave's entrance, their eyes locked onto the horrifying scene. Ronan's breath grew uneven, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Fury bubbled beneath his skin, and with every passing moment, his mana pulsed wildly, barely contained within his body. The very air around him shimmered with heat, his fire magic responding to his extreme emotion.