2024-10-01 14:51:49CHAPTER 3: THE ELVES AND THE VILLAGE OF HEILEN
Anfalen, the summoner, and Nelaeryn, the elven archer, fled the battle after witnessing Loren unleash his incredible power. Loren’s quick victory over Olalen, the formidable elven warrior, left them trembling in fear. “Damn it, did you see that? What kind of power was that?” Nelaeryn exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.
“My blinding light wasn’t long enough to counter that attack. He crushed us without a hitch,” Anfalen replied, his voice laced with frustration.
“We need more help to deal with them especially after Olalen was defeated so easily.” Realizing their own strength would not be enough to defeat Loren and Howard, Anfalen suggested.
“But the more of us involved, the greater the risk. He might kill us all in an instant.” Nelaeryn shook her head, hesitant.
“We have no choice,” Anfalen replied firmly, determination hardening his voice.
“We must return to Montmart and seek help from the Assassins.”
They soon returned to Montmart, the hidden headquarters of the elves, and headed straight for the Vierlon Tavern, a famous gathering place for warriors. There, they found Vy, one of the strongest assassins of the elven race, enjoying her drink.
"I've heard everything. Olalen was defeated, and you've come here to beg for my help, haven't you?" Without further ado, Vy spoke,
"You're still as clever and quick as ever, Vy." Nelaeryn and Anfalen were surprised by how quickly Vy learned the news. Anfalen smiled faintly.
"I won't move unless there's an opponent worthy of me." With an arrogant tone, Vy replied,
"This time, you'll meet a worthy opponent, Vy. I swear it." Impatient, Nelaeryn said,
Vy stared at Nelaeryn sharply, as if judging whether the promise was credible.
"I still want to see the strength of that child."
“You two go first. I’ll come, but not now. I still have a drink to enjoy,” she said with a haughty smile, taking her time to join the fight.
Nelaeryn and Anfalen exchanged glances, understanding without words that this was Vy’s tactic testing their patience and waiting for the right moment. As they exited the tavern, a voice rang out:
“The location of the first crystal has been determined.” It was a notification from the system, signaling that the fight for the wish-granting crystal had begun.
Inside the tavern, Vy grinned.
“Let’s see how strong that kid is,” she muttered, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her. Deep in her heart, Vy felt challenged to meet a worthy opponent.
“It’s time for the game to begin,” Anfalen said.
.
.
.
.
After Loren collapsed from exhaustion following his last fight, Howard decided they should retreat immediately to recuperate before facing the next enemy. They headed toward Heilen Village, a small community renowned for its healing powers.
Upon arriving at the village, Howard led the still unconscious Loren to a small hut. Inside, they were greeted by a young girl named Anne, who welcomed them warmly. “Excuse me, miss. Could you give us something to drink?” Howard asked. “My friend is exhausted and needs help.”
Anne smiled softly.
“Of course, sir. My name is Anne. This is a special tea blend from our village.” She served them two cups of fragrant, strong-smelling tea. The moment Loren inhaled the aroma, he woke up suddenly, though still weak.
“Where am I?” Loren asked, coughing.
“This is Heilen Village, a small community renowned for its healing powers,” Anne answered softly. Loren quickly took a sip of the tea, feeling his energy slowly return.
Howard looked at Anne curiously.
“Do you live here alone?” he asked.
“Yes, many of our villagers died in the last holy war. Now there are only a few left, including me.” Anne nodded.
While Loren was recovering, his gaze fell on a harp hanging on the wall.
“Hey, that’s a harp, right? Can you play it?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s my weapon. This harp has incredible healing powers. It’s my family’s inheritance.”
“So you’re a bard,” Howard said in awe.
“A unique and rare weapon.”
Anne smiled faintly.
“Will you join us in this holy war? We need healers like you, and I’m sure you can help us deal with the other dangerous races.” Howard looked at Anne seriously.
Anne’s expression faltered, fear evident in her eyes.
“So you’re participants in the holy war?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Don’t worry, Anne. We are also fighting to prevent other races from getting their hands on the dangerous crystals. What happened to this village is the same as what happened to my kingdom. This holy war has taken many lives, and we just want to stop this cycle.” Howard nodded reassuringly.
Anne paused, as if lost in memories of the past. She began to recount how her family had been involved in the previous holy war. Her parents had tried to protect the village from an invasion by other races, but they had perished in the fight. The harp that Anne now owned was the only relic of her mother, a legendary bard from the last conflict.
“I’ve always been afraid,” Anne admitted softly, her voice shaking.
“Afraid that one day I would have to fight like them. But I knew I couldn’t keep hiding. If I didn’t do anything, this village and its remaining inhabitants would still be in danger.”
“We’re not asking you to fight alone. We’re here to fight together.” Howard placed a comforting hand on Anne’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I only know how to heal, not fight.” Anne looked at Loren and Howard, still uncertain.
“Your power could be the difference between life and death in battle. And more than that, you have a kind heart. That’s what we need.” Loren smiled softly.
Finally, Anne agreed to join Loren and Howard. They began to prepare for the next battle, aware that the other races must have already begun moving toward the location of the first crystal. Loren, still perplexed by the mysterious power flowing within him, asked Anne about the magic behind the legendary sword.
“I feel something strange when I use this sword,” Loren said.
“It’s as if it’s telling me what to do.” Anne examined the sword closely.
“This sword has an ancient aura. There’s great power hidden within it, perhaps connected to the history of holy war.”
“The sword belonged to my old friend, Eleanor. He entrusted it to me until someone worthy found it. I’m sure, Loren, you are that person.” Howard added.
Before they could discuss further, a sudden attack came from the Ogre race, who were targeting the first crystal that had just appeared. These Ogres were known for their incredible physical strength, and the village of Heilen soon became a battleground.
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