While we were walking back to the village, I told them a little about myself. About how I ended up here and how I'd been spending my time in the village.
At some point I asked why they kept addressing me as "sir" or "master."
They exchanged glances and said something about my aura and strength.
Even though I had completely hidden it, they could still feel it — apparently that was one of the traits of their race.
According to them, the hierarchy in this world was fairly simple: the strong and the weak. And it was customary to speak respectfully to those who were stronger.
I asked them to just call me by my name.
They only shrugged.
When we reached the village and were about to enter, Garen called out to us.
— Stop! Rein, get away from those creatures!
We stopped right at the entrance.
After his words, the tieflings visibly sank. Out of the corner of my ear I heard Zorru quietly mutter:
— I told you…
Honestly, I expected a hostile reaction. But not this much.
— Why did you bring them here?
Garen was looking at me with obvious displeasure.
— Garen, calm down. They're not hostile.
He went quiet for a moment, but then tensed again.
I quickly explained what had happened. That I had found them in the forest, that they were on the verge of death, and that I had saved them. I briefly retold their story and added that they needed rest and food right now.
Garen still didn't look convinced.
So I decided to try another angle.
— They might have important information.
He frowned.
And at that moment Zorru spoke.
When he said that Reapers had attacked their village… and that they were most likely heading toward ours — Garen's expression changed instantly.
He went pale.
That word clearly meant something to him.
But not to me. I had no idea who these Reapers even were.
— Fine… come in. We need to report this to the elder immediately.
Garen finally let us pass, and we followed him inside.
We headed straight for the village's administrative building — to report everything as quickly as possible.
As we walked through the street, people threw all kinds of looks at us, but we tried to ignore them. There were more important things right now than the opinions of villagers.
When we reached the building, we went inside. A girl behind the front desk greeted us. When she saw the tieflings, she visibly tensed.
Garen quickly explained the situation and demanded an urgent meeting with the elder.
She nodded and immediately hurried off toward the stairs.
A minute later she returned and said, "Lord Harsul is waiting for you."
We exchanged glances and headed up the stairs.
.
.
.
When we entered the office, we sat down at a long T-shaped table.
Inside were already Oven and Suron — apparently they had been here before us, meeting with the elder.
— What happened, Garen? — he paused, glancing at the tieflings, then added, — And why did you bring these… people here?
I had already met the village elder before, and back then he had treated me fairly warmly, allowing me to stay. He reacted to the tieflings just as calmly — unlike Garen.
That said a lot about him as a leader: both tolerance and the ability to take responsibility.
Oven and Suron clearly tensed when they saw the guests, but they didn't say anything.
Harsul gestured toward the empty seats, allowing the tieflings to sit. They took places on both sides of the table.
Garen and I sat next to Owen and Suron so they wouldn't have to sit too close to the tieflings — it made them more comfortable during the conversation.
There were ten people in the room.
Five representatives of the tiefling race and five from our side.
I ended up being something like a neutral party between them.
We introduced ourselves one by one, giving our names, and they did the same.
Zorru and his sister Lucia introduced themselves first.
Then the pink-haired girl — Lucia's friend — gave her name: Aria.
The remaining two were Ursus and Vost.
And so the conference began.
The tieflings told their story in detail.
Three days ago, a group of Reapers attacked their village — around fifty or sixty people. All of them were riding mag-wolves, also known as "Siverns."
When they arrived, the villagers met them together with the elder. He stepped forward, trying to negotiate and resolve everything peacefully.
But they didn't even listen to him.
The Reapers immediately presented their terms.
Or rather — they simply stated the facts.
The villagers would work for them, and the entire harvest would belong to the Reapers. In return, they would leave only as much as they considered sufficient for survival.
The people began to protest. It sounded like outright slavery.
The elder still tried to reason with them, but they ignored him.
At some point the crowd erupted into a heated argument.
The Reapers listened silently. Almost with interest. As if they enjoyed it.
But everything ended the moment someone threw a stone at their leader.
After that, the massacre began.
The riders and their wolves charged forward, giving no one a chance. They killed everyone who stood in their path.
People tried to run, but they fell dead before they could even take a few steps.
Some of the Reapers began setting fires. They entered houses, took everything valuable, and then set them ablaze by throwing torches inside.
The others went to the granary, carrying out sacks of grain and loading them onto wagons.
Very quickly the entire village was engulfed in flames.
When everything was finished, the Reapers left just as quickly and disappeared into the forest.
The only survivors were the group now sitting with us in the elder's office.
They had hidden inside a house on the edge of the village. The fire never reached it, and for some reason the Reapers never entered it.
Once it became clear that everything was over, they left the village before the fire spread completely and headed into the forest.
On the way they ran into a small group of Reapers. A short fight broke out, but they managed to break away and escape.
After that they wandered through the forest for several days, trying to find food and avoid being caught again.
And then they met me.
And that's how they ended up here.
In the end they added that the Reapers had been moving in the direction of our village. And it was probably only a matter of time before they reached us — looting several other settlements along the way.
After the tieflings finished their story, a heavy silence fell over the room.
The elder silently stroked his beard, thinking.
Then he raised his head and said calmly:
— Garen, contact your son immediately. Tell him we have an emergency. He needs to send a unit right away.
Garen nodded and quickly left the room.
As soon as the door closed behind him, the tension that had been building finally cracked.
— What are we supposed to do?! They won't make it in time! — Suron snapped first.
Owen immediately added:
— Exactly. It's at least three days from Elysium to here!
Voices began to rise throughout the room. Panic was starting to take hold.
The elder tried to keep himself together, but the growing tension quickly pulled him into the chaos.
I watched silently.
Garen had left, and right now there was basically no one here who could calm everyone down.
The voices grew louder. Everyone started offering ideas — and each one seemed worse than the last.
I had enough.
I slammed my palm on the table — not out of anger, but simply to get everyone's attention.
— Calm down. Now isn't the time for panic.
The room fell silent immediately.
All eyes turned toward me.
The elder frowned slightly, but still asked:
— And what do you suggest? If we do the same as they did… — he nodded toward the tieflings, — we'll meet the same end.
While they were arguing, I had already formed a rough plan.
I paused briefly, letting everyone settle down completely.
— We already have the most important thing — information, — I began calmly. — We know they're coming here. And we know we have at most a day or two.
After those words, the tension in the room noticeably eased. People stopped interrupting each other and began listening.
The elder thought for a moment, then stepped aside and gave me the seat at the table.
He stood behind me.
At that moment Garen returned… and froze for a second when he saw what was happening.
I was sitting in the elder's seat, while the elder stood beside me like an assistant.
Garen didn't say anything. He just sat down and started listening.
When everyone was gathered again, I continued:
— Instead of waiting for help from the city… we prepare for battle.
Silence filled the room.
A few people exchanged glances, unsure whether I was serious.
But I continued:
— We fortify the village… and meet them here.
During the time we had left, I suggested mobilizing as many villagers as possible and preparing the village defenses.
Some people would start cutting down trees. The plan was to sharpen them into stakes and place them around the perimeter of the village as barriers.
Others would work on traps — pits and other simple but effective things.
I even briefly told them about the kinds of traps used in Vietnam. Judging by their reactions, they liked the idea.
The tieflings noticeably perked up and immediately offered their help. It was clear they didn't just want to repay the favor — they also wanted revenge for what had happened to their village.
Vost and Ursus volunteered to help set the traps.
The two girls decided to stay in the rear as support.
Zorru chose something different — he planned to stand in the front lines and face the enemy first.
— In that case, Rein, I appoint you temporary head of the village and planner of the operation. I'll handle civilian matters.
The elder gave me full authority to lead. I simply nodded and immediately moved on to the next steps.
— Garen, select people for the defense.
Then I looked at Oven and Suron.
— Oven, you're in charge of the traps. Suron — the village fortifications.
Everyone nodded, showing they agreed. Instead of confusion, we now had a clear plan and confidence that we could handle this.
After the final discussion of the plan, we left the room and went our separate ways to carry out our tasks.