Chapter 38: The Aftermath and Discussions
Year 0002, XII Month: The Imperium
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The Survivors
They were already deep into the third month of winter, the air brittle with cold and heavy with silence. A somber mood had taken hold of the village, seeping into its wooden walls and settling over its inhabitants like the snow that blanketed the surrounding forest.
It was depressing to dwell on it, but they had known the risks of the previous battle. Had they not faced the threat head-on, the consequences would have been immeasurable. So those who were not too badly injured and could still move busied themselves with meaningful tasks, desperate to occupy their minds with anything but the recent bloodshed.
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Advancement and Gains
On the second day after the intense battle had concluded, one of the critically injured finally awakened. August himself had risen from his deep slumber, stirring to consciousness with a groan that echoed through the small house.
He was sturdier now than he had been when he'd nearly died fighting the Boarat Commander months ago. His external wounds had sealed nicely, though lingering scars mapped the violence across his skin. August didn't worry about these markings; he knew they would fade with time, thanks to his System.
He hadn't suffered as badly as he might have, protected by his equipment, though his gear had been thoroughly battered and was barely usable now. Still, it had served its purpose—keeping him alive throughout that ferocious battle.
After their fight with the Grimfangs had concluded, August had gained another level, reaching [Lvl. 13]. He hadn't had the chance to appreciate this advancement at the time, collapsing from exhaustion and blood loss before the realization could fully register.
Now he could move around the village, albeit slowly, lingering pain from his injuries forcing him to measure each step. Despite this, August ventured beyond the village walls to drag in every Grimfang they had killed during the battle.
It took him half a day to bring all the carcasses inside the village perimeter. He made frequent stops to rest, returning inside when the others grew worried about his prolonged exposure to the biting cold. Their concern touched him, though he wouldn't admit it aloud.
The Grimfang corpses would not go to waste. Their thick pelts would make new armors, warm blankets and clothing, their meat—though gamey—would supplement their dwindling winter stores, and their bones could be crafted into new equipment. In the harsh reality they inhabited, nothing could be wasted.
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The Will to Survive
Jonathan remained unconscious, neither waking nor succumbing to his grievous wounds. His resilience was remarkable—a testament to his sturdy constitution, vigor, and indomitable willpower. This admirable man now lay half-dead, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths that offered the only sign of life.
Gel remained by his side throughout each day, meticulously cleaning his wounds and replacing old dressings with fresh ones to prevent infection. Though sadness clouded her eyes, determination set her jaw. She knew her father would return to her; he was too stubborn to do otherwise.
When she thought no one was looking, she would whisper to him—tales of childhood, plans for spring planting, anything to tether him to this world. August had caught her once, slipping away before she noticed his presence.
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Inspecting the Damage
August returned home after finishing his work with the wolf carcasses. He had also patrolled the outer perimeter of the walls, inspecting for damage they might have missed during the chaos.
Most of the defenses had held, except for the gatehouse. Parts of it lay in ruins, destroyed by a Grimfang that had slammed its massive body against the defenders. The sight of the splintered wood and bent metal hinges reminded August how close they had come to being overrun.
They would need to repair it by spring, and August mentally noted the necessity of adding an allure—a wall-walk—around the entire perimeter. The previous battle had taught them a harsh lesson: they needed better visibility beyond their walls. The single lookout tower near the gate was no longer sufficient; they would need to add five more, covering the entire stretch of the protective barrier.
He would discuss this with the others and propose halting their current construction project. With the extra bedrooms already added to their communal dwelling, they had some leeway to focus on other priorities.
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A New Proposal
During dinner time, they gathered around the hearth, the crackling fire casting long shadows as they discussed the events of the past few days. The mood was subdued but determined as August proposed his plan for improving the village defenses.
"We need to strengthen the walls," he said, his voice carrying the weight of their recent experience. "Add lookout towers at important parts of the wall where visibility is low and a walkway along the top. We also need to establish a proper training regimen for everyone capable of fighting."
No one argued. They all knew this wasn't the end of the Grimfangs' aggression. Next time, they might not be so fortunate. It was a miracle they had all survived, escaping with only injuries to tend—save for Jonathan, whose life still hung in precarious balance with no indication of when—or if—he might awaken.
The firelight flickered across concerned faces as they considered this uncertain future.
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The Need for Manpower
After the hearty meal Theressa had prepared—a stew that somehow managed to be both nourishing and flavorful despite their limited stores—they dispersed to their respective corners of the house, seeking comfort in solitude or quiet conversation.
Each contemplated their future role in the village. Their current manpower was desperately lacking for the settlement to function properly. They needed additional hands, but the nearest settlement, Kirka Village, lay some hundreds of kilometers away through the perilous forest.
They were certain most of the residents there wouldn't even consider leaving their established community, even if it was a frontier village and being lorded by Rommel. The dangers of the forest far outweighed any potential benefits of relocation. More importantly, those who had escaped from Kirka Village harbored a blood feud with the current acting chief. They would never return to a place they had fled in desperation.
Meanwhile Pipik Village, located at least a thousand kilometers away, was equally implausible as a source of new settlers. The trio who had left that place had been expelled, and the village was under raid when they departed.
This left them with only two viable options, neither particularly promising:
They could leave it to chance, hoping some unfortunate souls like themselves that might stumble upon their settlement.
Or they could venture out, as they had recently considered, to search for others willing to relocate and settle in this perilous location—where a single misstep could result in debilitating injury or death.
But who among them could be spared for such a mission? Every resident was already vital to the village's functioning. Removing even one person would place an additional burden on those remaining.
These weighty thoughts occupied their minds as night deepened. Some drifted to sleep, while others remained awake, their gazes wandering into the cold darkness beyond the windows, searching for answers in the void.
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Aetherwings Return
High above, Aetherwing and his mate cleaved through the frigid night sky, protected by his magic from the harsh winter winds. They could fly continuously, day and night, without needing to land except for the most basic necessities.
They would reach the village by the following day, bringing news that would change everything...