Bai Xuan nodded, saying nothing more. Edmund turned toward the corridor behind him. “Put the things back.” The guard turned and walked back, cradling the plate armor, the metal plates clanking dully as he moved.
During a brief lull in their conversation, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. A young guard slowly led Bai Xuan's Chocobo over from the side yard.
The Chocobo walked with lazy strides, its neck drooping slightly, looking as though it hadn't fully woken up yet.
Every few steps, it would peck at the gravel on the ground, guided gently forward by the guard. When it reached Bai Xuan, it stopped and looked up at its master.
Bai Xuan took a few steps forward and reached out to gently stroke the Chocobo's neck.
“Don't worry,” he comforted his mount in a gentle tone. “On this trip, I won't leave you behind by yourself again.”
The Chocobo shifted its thick talons, as if understanding the promise in his words, looking closely to confirm its master's intent.
It nudged Bai Xuan's shoulder gently with its hard beak, then straightened its body, ready to depart. The guard handed the reins to Bai Xuan, who reached out and took them.
The group quickly organized their travel supplies at the entrance of the estate. Rex was already mounted, holding his reins taut as he waited patiently.
Yvonne rode a gray horse, with travel blankets and portable canteens hanging from both sides of her saddle. Adjusting her posture slightly, she turned her head toward Bai Xuan, waiting for him to ready his Chocobo so they could set off together.
The Chocobo took long, steady strides, heading toward the town gates. The crisp clacking of horseshoes and the heavy thud of bird talons echoed along the cobblestone streets in the early morning as the party maintained a steady, even pace.
Bai Xuan pulled gently on his reins to slow his pace, observing the scenes on both sides of the street as they rode.
Having endured yesterday's monster tide, the once-ravaged streets had already regained some signs of life.
Residents were busy rebuilding. Carpenters were fitting new frames onto damaged storefronts, with wood shavings piled at their feet. A few civilians stood by the roadside clearing rubble, loading construction waste into wheelbarrows.
Further down the street, a small sundries stall was already open for business, its shelves neatly lined with everyday items like waterproof wax blocks and binding ropes. The stall owner bent over to organize some hemp twine, arranging his goods just as he usually did.
Recognizing Bai Xuan as he rode past, the owner paused his work and bowed politely. Without stopping, Bai Xuan turned his head and gave a slight nod in response.
On the other side of the intersection, a hardware shop had removed its boarded-up doors and was open for business, displaying iron pots, handmade iron shovels, and reinforced iron nails at the entrance.
The shopkeeper wiped surface rust off some cookware with a damp cloth, while a delivery worker nearby unloaded a bundle of straw from his back, shouting into the shop to coordinate the delivery.
Across the street, two residents worked together to carry a damaged solid wood table, its surface still stained with dried mud from yesterday's battle.
From a distance, Bai Xuan watched the post-disaster scene of businesses reopening and residents repairing their homes.
Not far from the town gate, the massive piles of monster corpses had been completely cleared away, leaving only large patches of dark, dried blood on the ground.
In the distance, a cleanup crew was taking care of the remaining monster debris. The leader of the squad squatted down, using a dagger to harvest usable materials from a monster's carcass.
Two other members stood by with collection bags, waiting to sort the harvested materials.
Rex rode his horse closer to Bai Xuan and took the initiative to explain the local cleanup process. “We screen the carcasses for edible parts and alchemy ingredients. The remaining useless remains are gathered to be burned and buried deep to prevent the scent of blood from drawing more monsters.”
Bai Xuan nodded in understanding. The three of them successfully rode out of the town gates as the morning sun cast long shadows down the silhouette of the town walls.
Rex rode ahead to lead the way, turning his head to report their travel details. “The mission outpost is to the southeast of the town. At our current pace, we should arrive at our destination right on time this afternoon.”
Bai Xuan nodded, pulling his gaze back to focus on the road ahead.
...
Luka Village.
This small village was modest in size, but it had currently been heavily modified, making it look more like a miniature fortress.
A wooden fence, which had just been reinforced, encircled the entire village. A defensive trench had been dug along its outer perimeter, while the inner side was densely reinforced with slanted support stakes, for fear that this crude barrier might be directly collapsed by an external force.
Freshly felled logs had been added to patch up multiple sections of the fence. The clean, white cuts of the new wood stood in stark contrast to the surrounding old, blackened planks that had been weathered by years of sun and rain.
A watchtower had been erected at each of the village's four corners. Built entirely from thick logs, they rose far higher than any ordinary rustic viewing platform. Standing at the top, one could clearly overlook the entire boundary of the woods surrounding the village.
Guards stood watch on the towers around the clock. Their bodies were tense, fingers resting on their bowstrings as their eyes swept over the bushes outside the village, vigilantly waiting for any unknown danger to emerge from the shadows of the forest.
Near the village entrance, several villagers were urgently reinforcing gaps in the fence, wedging sharpened wooden stakes into loose crevices. The dull thuds of hammers striking wood echoed repeatedly.
Bundles of straw and thick hemp ropes lay piled nearby, alongside a large heap of raw building materials, showing that the defensive preparations were still far from complete.
An elderly villager squatted at the base of the fence, carefully tightening the hemp rope securing a support stake. Once it was bound tight, he did not stand up immediately, but stared at the reinforced pillar, his face etched with worry.
On the southern watchtower, a sentry suddenly locked his gaze on the distance. Lowering his longbow, he squinted toward the edge of the woods. A small figure was moving rapidly along the dirt path beside the bushes, heading straight for the village gates.
The sentry did not sound an alarm immediately. Only after the figure drew closer and he could make out their face did he call down to the camp below, “It's Chas. He's back.”
Hearing the call, several villagers working inside the fence paused their tasks and instinctively looked toward the main gate.
The sentry on the watchtower said nothing more, but his tense, rigid posture visibly relaxed. The heavy, anxious atmosphere that hung over the entire village eased significantly with the slight click of the gate latch loosening.
The wooden barricade at the village entrance was pulled open just a crack. The bolt was not fully drawn, leaving a gap just wide enough for a person to squeeze through sideways.
Once Chas slipped through the gap, the guard immediately slid the bolt back into place, the crisp clacking sound echoing through the quiet entrance.
The old leather armor he wore was half-soaked from the forest dew and tall grass. His leather boots were caked with wet mud, and a few crushed grass blades from his trek were stuck in the seams of his trousers, showing every sign of the exhaustion that came with a long-distance patrol.
Stepping onto the open ground inside the fence, Chas first unbuckled the short dagger from his waist and set it down on a nearby wooden block, as if shedding a major portion of the fatigue accumulated during his journey.
His voice was dry and raspy, carrying the weariness of long hours spent exposed to the elements and traveling on foot.
“No change outside. Everything is normal. I didn't find any traces of monster hordes gathering.”
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