From a bird's eye view, Green Leaf Village lived up to its name.
It was a small settlement nestled in the heart of vast farmlands, forming a shape of massive leaf.
Rows of lush green crops stretched outward, blending seamlessly with the wild grasslands beyond.
A crude yet sturdy wooden barrier encircled the village, hastily reinforced with sharpened logs and rope bindings.
It was clear that the village had seen its share of trouble, the barrier serving more as a desperate defense than a true fortification.
Victor and Kierra stood before the village gate, their weary bodies bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun.
Just as they were about to step forward, murmurs of human voices reached their ears.
A small group of men and women emerged from within, their gazes sharp and wary.
Each held simple weapons like rusty swords, wooden spears with iron tips. They gripped them with the tense posture of those accustomed to defending their home.
But the moment they laid eyes on Lam and the five girls, everything changed.
Gasps filled the air, whispers spreading like wildfire among the villagers. Some voices cracked with disbelief, while others called out in frantic excitement.
"L-Lam… You're alive?! You and the others… h-how is this possible?" one man stammered, stepping closer as if afraid the girls would vanish like an illusion.
"Yes, Uncle," Lam's voice trembled with emotion. "We survived… and It's all thanks to our saviors."
The villagers turned to Victor and Kierra, their gazes locking onto the unusual pair.
The young woman was strikingly beautiful despite her tattered clothes, her stance confident and battle-worn.
But it was the man beside her who drew the most attention. His snow-white hair, his piercing red eyes, appeared as scary.
Their weapons, still stained with fresh blood, spoke volumes of the battles they had faced.
Uneasy murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Their instincts screamed at them: these two were not ordinary travelers.
As such, their hands instinctively tightened around their weapons, eyes flashing with suspicion.
But before the tension could escalate, Lam stepped forward, her voice sharp with protest.
"What are you doing, Uncles? Didn't you listened? They are mages… and our saviors! Lower your weapons!"
Gasps erupted among the villagers.
"Mages?" someone muttered in shock.
The hostility vanished in an instant, replaced by something far worse—fear.
Weapons that had been raised in caution were immediately lowered, hands trembling as they tucked them away as if afraid to offend the strangers.
"Y-You're telling me these two are… mages?" The disbelief was palpable.
"Yes, and so we shouldn't be rude to our guests!" Lam declared firmly. "They saved us from the Green Monsters' Den. Just the two of them alone!"
Silence ensued.
Then, shock.
"Just the two of them?" A villager's voice quivered, his eyes darting between Victor and Kierra. "They cleared out the Goblin Den… by themselves?"
"How strong are they…?" another whispered.
Lam turned to Victor and Kierra, a look of pure admiration shining in her eyes.
"Really, really strong," she said, her voice filled with awe.
"O-ho-ho! Then what are we waiting for?" an older woman chuckled, stepping forward with an eager smile. "Take our esteemed guests inside! Let's show them the hospitality of Green Leaf Village."
Without hesitation, she pushed the heavy wooden gate open, its hinges creaking in protest. The gathered villagers quickly stepped aside, clearing a path for Victor and Kierra.
As they entered, the village's simplicity stood in stark contrast to the dangers of the wild forest they had just left behind. Small huts made of straw and wood lined the dirt pathways, their roofs thatched with dried grass. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, carrying the scent of burning firewood and freshly cooked meals.
But what stood out the most was the aroma of herbs and medicine. It drifted through the air, earthy and slightly sweet, mixing with the scent of tilled soil and ripe crops.
This was a place of healing, of farmers and herbalists who thrived in harmony with nature.
Victor took in the peaceful surroundings with quiet appreciation, and a rare sense of calm washed over him.
The sight of villagers going about their daily lives—mothers carrying baskets of fruit, children chasing each other through the fields, old men sipping tea under the shade of a large oak tree waa really soothing.
The passersby, however, were not as indifferent to his presence.
They stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide with curiosity. Some whispered amongst themselves, stealing glances at Victor and Kierra as if they had just stepped out of legend.
The red-eyed warrior and the fierce mage.
Kierra shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares.
"Ugh, I don't like this attention," she muttered, lowering her voice so only Victor could hear.
Victor, on the other hand, smirked. He clearly enjoyed the environment. It wasn't like the suffocating concrete Utopia of Earth. It was almost like a paradise.
"Please, rest in here, honored guests. Someone will be along shortly to attend to you," a middle-aged man said, leading them into a modest wooden house.
Victor and Kierra followed, stepping inside as the heavy wooden door creaked open. The warm glow of lanterns bathed the room in soft light, revealing a simple but cozy interior.
The house had two separate rooms, in clear consideration for the fact that they weren't a couple.
The floors were wooden, slightly worn but well-maintained. A low table sat in the center of the main room, accompanied by two cushioned stools. On one side, there was a clay water jug with wooden cups stacked neatly beside it. The scent of dried herbs lingered in the air, likely from bundles hanging from the ceiling.
Victor let his fingers brush against the smooth wooden frame of the doorway, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. It had been a while since he had been somewhere truly safe.
The villagers, satisfied that their guests were settled, quietly excused themselves, closing the door behind them.
For the first time in days, Victor and Kierra were alone in a secure place.
Without a word, they both began exploring their respective rooms.
Victor's room was small but comfortable. A simple straw mattress lay on a wooden frame, with a folded blanket at the foot of the bed. There was a small, square window that let in a cool evening breeze, rustling the fabric of a thin curtain.
He ran a hand through his snow-white hair, letting out a small sigh. Finally, a moment of peace.
Suddenly —