The birdsong echoed in the morning, creating a natural symphony that mingled with the scent of fresh earth and wild flowers.
It was a quiet day, but peace was always fleeting in Colin's life.
In the room at the inn, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the worn curtains, illuminating the simple room. Colin, dark and strong, was sitting on the edge of the worn bed.
He was wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt, fitted to his increasingly sculpted body.
With dark pants and worn boots, the false elf looked like a strange balance between the rusticity of a traveler and the elegance of a warrior. An adorned belt across his waist could hold knives and potions.
Next to him, a worn cowhide backpack lay open, revealing carefully organized items. With deft hands, he placed a variety of artifacts—from hastily purchased yellowed parchments to vials of mysterious liquids.
The quiet atmosphere was broken when Safira entered the room. The girl, with short hair and dressed in a dark knee-length dress, exuded a semblance of tranquility.
She wore dark pants and worn boots on her feet. A pouch hung casually from her shoulder, where all her money, healing potions, and a few weapons were stored.
"I'm ready!" she said in the bedroom door.
Colin stood up and slung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "Right, let's go."
The monotonous sound of footsteps echoed in the inn's wooden corridor as he approached the door. As he turned the handle, the door creaked slightly before revealing Elara's tired figure. Her clothes were dusty, her face marked by fatigue, and she bore the worn expression of someone who had witnessed the worst.
"Elara?!"
With an impulse driven by exhaustion and the relief of finding a familiar face, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
"Thank the gods you're still here!" she exclaimed.
"What happened?" he asked.
She pulled away, and the troll killer spotted a woman behind Elara, holding a child in her arms. Both showed obvious signs of a difficult journey.
[…]
Time passed, and as the tension eased, Colin found himself sitting in a chair next to the girls. The atmosphere took on a somber tone as Elara shared the details of the tragedy that had struck the caravan. Her tired eyes recounted the story of a devastating attack.
Her words flowed like a lament, describing the chaos of that fateful night—the sound of the flames, the cries of her companions, the desperate struggle for survival. The woman next to Elara remained silent, holding the child tenderly, but her eyes reflected deep pain. Colin listened attentively, his gaze meeting that of his companion.
Safira returned and handed them both a cup of tea, taking a seat next to Colin.
"I'm sorry this has happened to you…" he commented. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She shook her head. "Jamily lost her husband and all her belongings; her son was the only thing she managed to save… and I… lost my staff—but that's the least of it; I can buy a better one…"
"Do you want me to go to where your caravan was attacked?"
Elara waved her hands. "No way! They knew how to use magic, were numerous, and experienced in battle. The company was used to dealing with bandits, but they were massacred… we're the only ones left…"
"Safira," Colin called out, "go to the market, buy something for them, and bring some clothes too."
She nodded and left the room.
"Thank you!" said Jamily, her eyes full of tears. "I thought my son and I—"
"Everything's fine, and how's the boy?"
Jamily looked at her son, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms. He was so small, so fragile, so innocent, and also her last treasure, her last miracle.
"He's fine," she replied, stroking the boy's blond hair. "He's strong, like his father."
"You can stay in my room; the bed is big. Sleep there with him."
"I… I don't want to bother you."
"I insist."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you… really…"
"Go rest, take a shower… Safira and I will make you something to eat when you wake up."
Jamily smiled gratefully. She knew that this boy was under no obligation to help her.
"Thank you," she said again. "Thank you for everything."
Colin smiled back tenderly.
Jamily retreated to the back, leaving only Elara and Colin.
"I was going to Ultan," he said. "Why don't you come with me? I don't know magic yet, but I can protect you until we get there."
She looked away, her face on the verge of tears.
"Nothing seems to work out for me… sometimes I feel cursed…"
The false elf remained silent.
"It's this continent… this war… it's always the same everywhere… no matter where you look, there's always a pile of corpses, and it seems only a matter of time before I join it…" Her eyes met his. "Colin… I… I'm scared…"
"You've been through a lot of trauma recently – losing your brother, your friends, and now having your caravan attacked. Why don't you stay here at the inn for a while? We'll extend our stay and talk to the innkeeper. You and Jamily can use this time to set things right."
"What about your trip?"
"Don't worry about that now. I've got enough money to keep you two safe for a while, and if that's the case, I can pick up a few jobs killing kobolds. It's easy work, and there's plenty of it."
She couldn't stand it and burst into tears. Elara thought she had found an angel, and if Colin were no longer in town, she wouldn't know what to do.
"Thank you so much for everything!"
He waved one of his hands with a smile. "Safira's room is clean; you can rest there if you like."
"Right…"
Elara stood up, smiled at Colin one last time, and left. He relaxed in his chair and sighed.
Bag… at least I'll have more time to train with Safira… at least there's one good thing in all this.
[…]
The magic circle on the floor grew stronger, brighter, illuminating the darkness that had once engulfed that room in the castle. The cultist in the center of the circle stood up, raising his arms as well.
A gale started in the room.
"I've done it! The ritual is ready!"
Behind him, a huge shadow of a hand appeared on the wall as soon as he left the circle. Aggressively, the hand crushed him, causing blood to splatter on the walls.
The elf and the human noticed the aggressive mana in the air and quickly went to the floor where the ritual was taking place.
"We've got to stabilize it!" shouted one of the cultists, and soon they began chanting incantations as if they were prayers.
"It's not working!"
"Keep trying!"
The creature's huge arm left the magic circle—a cadaverous arm with muscles and veins bulging out. Soon, its head appeared.
It had a single huge eye, its gaze as dead as that of a rotting corpse. The creature had no nose, but its mouth was huge, and its dental arch was pointed.
There was a huge-curved pair of horns on its forehead, its whole torso materialized outwards, the incantations getting louder.
"That won't work!" said the Elf to the human amidst all the noise. "This isn't a ninth-level abyss being, it's a seventh! We don't have the strength to control something like that!"
The creature's hand began to crush the cultists one by one, while more of its body protruded outwards.
"Let's run, quickly!"
The Elf climbed out of the window, accompanied by the human.
In the midst of the chaos, the cultists began to disperse, weakening the magic circle.
Then the creature roared, shaking the entire castle.
One of the aberrations of the abyss was finally free.
[…]
The golden twilight plunged the small kitchen into a cozy dimness as Colin and Safira moved deftly between pots and pans.
The tantalizing scent of fresh herbs danced in the air, mingling with the comforting smell of vegetables and meat sizzling in the pot on the wood-burning stove.
Colin chopped the ingredients with precision, while Safira, with her keen eye, mixed magical spices that transformed simple food into a feast for the senses.
The soft murmur of the simmering pot accompanied the melody of the preparation.
Roooooar!
They heard a deafening roar that shook the entire inn.
"What was that?" asked Safira, startled.
Colin ran to the window and saw that the street was full; dozens of people were curious about the noise they had heard.
Boom!
The top of the castle exploded, and debris began to fall around the village like rain.
A huge boulder hit the tavern where they used to pick up quests, and other smaller establishments were not so lucky, being crushed.
Jamily came from the back with the child in her arms, crying non-stop.
"What's happening—"
Boom!
One of the boulders hit the inn, almost striking Jamily and her son head-on.
"Jamily!" Safira went to her rescue.
Colin's eyes widened, but he had no reaction until he heard something crash in the middle of the street below. Then the dust cleared, and what they saw was a frightening creature with a wet tongue snaking from side to side as its single eye watched the crowd.
The creature was at least five meters tall, and even without the ability to use mana, Colin felt its oppressive, murderous power; for the first time since arriving in that world, his only option was to flee.
"Mr. Colin, Jamily has hurt her leg."
Before the creature could lay eyes on him, Colin bent down and, in one leap, approached them with a terrified look on his face, covering Safira's mouth.
"Be quiet!" he whispered, breaking out in a cold sweat. It was the first time Safira had seen him like that.
Slowly, the creature began to wander through the crowd without even attacking her.
People were tense, especially those who were more sensitive to magic. One of the fire mages conjured a powerful ball and hit the creature hard.
Boom!
Without even letting the dust clear, the monster advanced, slaughtering everyone it saw in front of it. It dismembered them, beheaded them, tore them in half, and chaos ensued.
Even more skilled mages gathered to fight the creature, but the first thing Colin thought of was running away.
"Come on!"
He picked Jamily up.
Her son was about to start crying, but Jamily gently stifled the boy's cry.
Keeping low, they walked through what was left of that floor until Colin remembered that there was someone else in the inn.
Elara!
"Wait, Safira!"
Still holding Jamily in his arms, he went to Elara's room and, when he opened it, he saw a huge hole in the ceiling—a stone had hit the floor. The next thing he knew, he saw a huge stone on Elara's leg as she tried to push it away.
"Co-Colin, my leg!"
"I know, don't move!"
Safira's eyes widened in terror as she saw Elara in that situation.
"Jamily, I'm going to put you down for a moment."
"Okay…"
With brute force, he began to push the debris away, the veins in his arms bulging. The thing was heavy, but he managed to push it aside.
Looking at Elara's leg, they noticed that it had been completely crushed.
She was crying out in pain.
"My legs, Colin! It hurts so much!"
"I know, stay still, we'll fix it! Can you get on my back?"
In agony, she nodded.
The troll slayer squatted down so that Elara could rest her arms around his shoulders, then he took a sheet and slipped it around his waist as a makeshift belt, so that she wouldn't strain herself too much.
He went over to Jamily and picked her up again.
"All right, let's get out of here! Safira, see if you can get to the bedroom from here! Let's get our things and get out of this place!"
Safira nodded, reached into her bag, and pulled out a sword, using it to open a hole in the wooden wall. She entered Colin's room and picked up his backpack, placing it on his back.
"All set, sir!"
Boom!
The roof of Colin's room burst open, and the smoke quickly dissipated.
"Shit!" he exclaimed in panic. The creature was standing there, staring straight at the five of them.