The aroma of resin clung to my hands as I carried the bale of Ironbark wood down the hillside. Naked even of bark, the wood weighed heavily, its veins bursting with mana-charged fibers that would put any normal lumber to shame. Blacksmithing would be his dreams realized.
The return to Green Leaf Village was brief, but it gave time to sense the change in the air. The forest was not quiet, there was trouble. Birds swept across the sky in frantic flocks. Small creatures darted through the bushes in waves of panic. Something was driving them deeper into burrows, away from the village.
When the houses of Green Leaf came into view, I found the place in disarray. Dwarves young and old were loading crates, hammering barricades, and digging trenches across the main road. Blacksmiths had abandoned their forges, their apprentices handing out weapons hot to the touch. The women and the children were loading slings, arrows, and improvised spears as well.
It didn't take a genius to understand.
A beast wave.
I wrapped my cloak about me and strode into the village. I was trailed by whispers again. I was a stranger to them. A cloaked stranger with an air too sharp to belong. But now they had no time to speculate about me.
The chief's dwelling stood adjacent to the square, guarded by some of the sturdiest fighters. I approached them, and one of them shifted uncomfortably when I made eye contact with him. He tried to measure me up, no doubt wondering how much extra bulk my arrival would add to their watch. His instincts saw more than his eyes could ever reveal.
The chief awaited me inside, bent over a table spread with maps and charcoal sketches of the surrounding terrain. His beard was gray, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness, but there was a steel-like clarity in them. When he noticed me, he straightened, relief flickering across his face.
"You returned." His voice carried a strange mixture of respect and weariness. "I was afraid you'd left with the merchants."
"I had business," I said, setting the Ironbark bundle on the ground by the door. "But I suppose this isn't timber-related."
His jaw locked. "No, it's about living."
He nodded at the map. Circles were drawn around the village, spreading out like ripples. Symbols indicated spotted beasts. Too many.
"The scouts confirmed it two days ago. There is a beast tide gathering. The sheer numbers alone would have been bad enough, but,..." He gritted out a halt.
"But what?" I asked, though I could already see what he was having a hard time putting into words.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the table. "They're being led by an Alpha. A wolf. No, a monster of a wolf. The villagers call it the Bloodfang Wolf."
The name was filed with indistinct recognition. I'd heard whispers of it in the adventurer's office in the village. A beast whose fangs were stained red by victims' blood permanently. There was rumor it had bitten steel through, there was rumor it had consumed entire caravans in one night.
"How certain?" I asked.
"Tough enough that even our hunters would not mistake it. The Alpha was seen by one of our most rapid scout runners before he never returned. If the Bloodfang leads them, then all the creatures in the Verdant Deep Forest will turn out. They'll be marching here, drawn by livestock, by blood, by the promise of evolution."
I remained silent, studying the map. That's the reason the village was an armed camp. The chief was not puffing out his chest. He was mobilizing for extinction.
The chief drew a deliberate breath and finally held my eye. His voice went down, as if his people would overhear the plea hidden in his words.
"You're an adventurer, aren't you? I saw you at the adventurer's office. They registered you as a C-Rank, but…" His eyes scrunched up with suspicion. "You're not like the others. Your aura alone is thicker than our strongest hunters. I will not try to comprehend what you are, stranger, but I will ask, will you stay?"
I folded my arms, letting his words dangle.
Stay? Here in this deserted village, holding one's breath for a wave of claws and teeth to wash over it? Any sensible man would be half-way to town already. But reason had never been my forte.
I recalled the dwarven girl, Alenya Dawnsunder, as she swung her sword too uncertainly but radiated potential. I recalled the blacksmith, whose talent could forge a sword that was worthy of me if given the right material. And I recalled the wolf that bled from wounds and dared assert leadership here. That should be my target. Let's not act tough, okay!
I could not go away.
Finally, I nodded my head. "I'll stay."
The shoulders of the chief sagged, relief flowing out of him like a man whose last prayer had finally reached the heavens.
"Good," he grunted, but his voice shook. "Then I can tell my people they have hope."
Hope. Not a promise. He wasn't incorrect. But the creatures had no understanding of the type of enemy who had just decided to remain in this village.
I leaned closer to the map, my eyes locked onto the chubby circle marking the wolf's domain.
"Tell me everything you know of the Bloodfang."
The chief swallowed convulsively, as if speaking the name out loud would call it back.