Chapter 6: The Village Is in Danger

“Alright, let’s head back to Gignit!”

Alexander exclaimed, taking the lead and setting off at a steady pace along the same path they had come from.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Christopher complained, pulling a few pained faces. “We’re the ones who got beaten up… even my teeth hurt.”

“I feel like my tail weighs as much as a rock,” Mathias said, almost dragging his feet as he walked. “Lord Alexander! Was it really necessary to step on it while I was lying on the ground?”

“It’s to make you stronger,” Alexander replied calmly.

“I’m sure Lord Alexander just wanted to beat us up,” Sebastián declared, shuffling along without any motivation. “I’m telling Lady Valentina!”

“Yes!” the other boys chimed in, while a heavy bead of sweat slid down the Lord of Gignit’s forehead.

The children and Alexander began the exhausting journey back to Gignit.

Despite their complaints, the truth was that the children had learned a great deal—and they had loved the training, even after taking such a severe beating.

At first, they kept joking among themselves, throwing playful jabs at Alexander. They walked with energy, chatting about different parts of the training, still holding on to some strength.

Little by little, however, the laughter faded, until the three of them fell completely silent.

They didn’t say a single word, pouring all their remaining energy into simply walking; it was already hard enough just to put one foot in front of the other.

It was understandable—they were children. Ending up in that state was only natural.

Alexander glanced back, suppressing a chuckle that threatened to escape his lips.

No more noise, he thought. That’s to be expected. They’re children, and they pushed themselves hard. It’s clear they truly want that adventurer’s life.

Seeing his young disciples filled him with a mix of joy and tenderness.

Alexander could have run and reached the village in just a few minutes—but he would never do that. The children’s safety was his highest priority.

Moreover, under no circumstances would he abandon his son—or the other children he cared for so deeply. Mathias and Sebastián were the sons of very close friends.

They spent so much time at his house that it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they were already part of the family.

And above all else, if he ever did something like that, he would have to deal with Valentina—who would most likely give him the scolding of a lifetime.

“I can’t go on, I’m exhausted,” Sebastián complained, staring at Christopher’s broad back—which looked less like a back and more like a chair. “Look what I found—a chair!”

Without any warning, he climbed onto his friend, making Christopher let out a groan.

“Nnnn…”

“Yeah… what a comfortable chair,” Mathias added, following his friend’s example and climbing on as well—though he did so on Sebastián’s back.

That was how the children gave their tired legs a break.

An annoyed grimace formed on the face of the one being used as furniture. Christopher was the only one who didn’t get the luxury of resting—not even for a moment.

And that infuriated him.

With a smile full of pure weariness and mischief, he reached for a nearby branch. He was just about to deliver a few smacks to the heads of the two stowaways who had invaded his back—

Fortunately, Alexander intervened, lifting Mathias off Sebastián’s back and onto his own.

Alexander soon noticed that both Mathias and Sebastián were fast asleep—to the point that thin strings of drool slipped from between their lips.

“Christopher, how about we do one last bit of training—just father and son?” Alexander asked, giving him a wink. “What do you say? I used to train like this.”

Christopher let out one last sigh.

Why not?

He nodded decisively.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s use these sacks of potatoes as weights. Besides, I still have some energy left.”

“Don’t call them that—they’re your friends,” his father scolded him with a smile.

“I can tell you have more energy than they do. Your stamina and magical reserves are far above average for someone your age. The same goes for your reasoning. You make very good decisions, son. It’s almost as if you weren’t just a simple child.”

Christopher smiled at his father’s praise—one of the two people he admired most.

“On top of that, you’ve achieved a solid grasp of martial arts simply by observing and reading books. I’ve never met anyone as extraordinary as you.”

He placed a hand on Christopher’s head and ruffled his hair, leaving it completely messy.

“You make me so proud, son. Your mother and I truly love you.”

Involuntarily, the boy’s eyes grew moist—just slightly. He wasn’t sad, nor did he feel anything like sorrow.

He was happy.

Hearing his father speak with such pride filled him with joy, and his heart didn’t know how else to express it.

Only a single, timid drop fell onto the forest floor… and then vanished forever.

✧ ✧ ✧

Fortunately, the terrain they were crossing was fairly flat, without any major unevenness, allowing them to keep moving with relative ease.

Thanks to that, they managed to reach the outskirts of the village, even though they occasionally had to walk around a tree—nothing that truly slowed them down.

“At last,” Christopher muttered to himself, sweating heavily, more than happy to have reached the village. “Please, Dad, let’s go home.”

At that point, he was so drained that he was tempted to ask his father to carry him.

Still, he didn’t give in.

He resolved to make it back while carrying his friend, treating it as self-imposed training.

With great effort, Christopher managed to remain standing in front of the gate and finally dropped his burden as if it were a sack of potatoes.

“And now it’s your turn… we’re here already, you slacker! You’re lucky I didn’t abandon you and let some magical beast devour you.”

Sebastián woke with a start at the moment of impact, aching slightly, dried traces of drool still clinging to his cheeks.

“Huh? What? What…?”

He was completely disoriented—until he saw the familiar gate of Gignit standing right in front of him.

“Ah… we’re here already.”

He began rummaging through his pockets until he found a candy, then sleepily held it out to Christopher.

“Here. You earned it.”

That orange candy was payment for the excellent transportation service. The gesture only annoyed Christopher further, and he snatched the candy straight from his friend’s hand.

Meanwhile, Alexander approached the gate and peered through the viewing slit.

“It’s me. I’m back—can you open the gate?”

The slit opened, and a pair of blue eyes looked out from the other side.

“Ah! It’s you, Lord Alexander. We’ll open it right away.”

The gate slid aside with the help of the guards stationed within, revealing two elves standing behind the village entrance. Both wore the clothing and footwear typical of forest elves, with ash-colored hair and green eyes.

They shared the same build and almost identical voices. It was immediately obvious they were twin brothers—the resemblance between their faces was astonishing.

Strapped to their backs were long wooden bows, their shape vaguely reminiscent of a hawk’s wing.

They also carried quivers—the containers archers used to hold their arrows. The quivers were green, adorned with elegant metallic finishes.

What distinguished the brothers was that one of them had his ears cut short, reduced to a length closer to that of a human’s.

Fortunately, they had already healed completely.

This elf’s name was Uno.

The other still had his elven ears intact. His name was Dos.

“I see you’ve returned from training… just to be sure,” one of the elves said, both brothers suddenly frowning. “You weren’t attacked by a Feathered Serpent, were you?”

“Not that magical beast again…” Christopher muttered under his breath.

Of the three children, he was the only one still awake enough to follow the conversation. Mathias was fast asleep, and Sebastián was barely managing to stay on his feet. Christopher, on the other hand, forced himself to remain alert, unwilling to miss a single word exchanged between the elves and his father.

“We were fortunate not to run into it,” Alexander replied. “The only ones who saw it—and fought it—were Tobías and Tadeo. They managed to drive it away.”

He recalled the condition they had been left in. They had succeeded in repelling the creature, yes… but not without injuries. Fortunately, neither of them had been poisoned.

Alexander continued, his voice low and firm.

“Since you’re asking… that means it’s appeared again, doesn’t it?”

“Yes—and we confirmed that the damned thing tried to slip in through the north side of the walls,” Uno replied, irritation clear on his face. “Luckily, the guards noticed it in time.”

“But unfortunately, it escaped again,” Dos added, his brow deeply furrowed.

Alexander let out a deep sigh, gazing toward the horizon dyed in fire. The sun was dying—its light retreating like a wounded soldier—and with it came the dominion of night.

The situation was dangerous… and that beast even more so.

The Feathered Serpent hunted both day and night. If it failed to find prey beneath the sun, it would simply seek it under the moon.

“We fear it may have marked the village as its source of food,” Uno said, his lips pressed tight with anger. “Or rather… thinking it over, it’s far more likely it has already claimed the village as its territory.”

“And us as its prey,” Alexander finished, his posture shifting into something more contemplative—imbued with a very real, unmistakable fury.

Christopher watched his father’s pensive expression. In all his years by his side, he had never seen him look so filled with rage.

Yet the leader of Gignit’s anger was understandable. This was his village—the one he had built alongside his people, through effort, sacrifice, and hope.

And now, a cursed beast threatened to devour everything they loved, to turn its inhabitants into nothing more than prey… unless they acted.

Alexander frowned. The anger faded, replaced by something colder—and far more dangerous. An absolute severity settled over his features.

He turned to the guardian brothers, who clenched their fists in unison, ready to receive orders.

“This is what we’ll do,” Alexander began, his voice firm and commanding. “Immediately inform everyone that we are under threat. A highly dangerous ALFA-class magical beast is roaming nearby. Effective immediately, a curfew will be enforced while the hunt is underway.”

Both elves nodded without hesitation.

“Second. Gather fifteen combatants and form five squads of three. Make sure each group includes an archer. Sweep a radius of at least three kilometers around the village.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“Night is already falling… and that serpent could be close, stalking us again. Bring sufficient medicine in case of poisoning.”

“Lastly—and most importantly,” he added, fixing them with a piercing gaze, “eliminate it. Is that clear?”

“It will be done, Lord Alexander,” both declared in unison.

The elven brothers turned with disciplined precision and marched off without wasting a second, ready to carry out the order exactly as given.

Christopher stared at his father, completely astonished.

He had never seen him issue such precise commands—nor witnessed other adults obey without question.

He watched him with shining eyes. It was the first time he had seen that side of his father… and without quite understanding why, his admiration only deepened.

“Alright,” Alexander murmured, straightening his shoulders and allowing himself, for just a moment, a smile of quiet confidence.

He turned to his son, who met his gaze with awe—though beneath it, a faint trace of unease lingered.

“Christopher, don’t worry. Everything will be taken care of. They know what to do… they have plenty of experience dealing with threats like this.”

“Does this happen often?” Christopher asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “How did I never notice?”

As they walked, Alexander laughed softly, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“That’s because I’ve always made sure children aren’t told about dangers like these. I don’t want you worrying. In situations like this, we simply send you to bed earlier.”

A vein visibly throbbed on Christopher’s forehead.

“So… that’s why Mom always made me go to bed early! It’s all the magical beasts’ fault!”

Alexander chuckled quietly and said nothing, entering the village with a smile that blended tenderness and resignation.

The children—who until recently had been sleeping like logs—finally woke up. Though they knew nothing about the danger, they immediately found it strange that no one was strolling through the plaza, as was usual at that hour.

“What happened?” Mathias asked, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy kitten. “Why has everyone already gone to bed?”

“Curfew, kids. Go straight home,” Alexander replied, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sebastián and Mathias exchanged curious looks, just about to ask more… when a woman appeared behind them.

“There you are… I was looking for you,” a maternal voice said gently.

It was Rachell León, Sebastián’s mother. Beside her was little Diana, who ran over and hugged Christopher, scolding him between pouts for leaving her alone all afternoon.

Rachell also pulled Mathias close, tenderly stroking his ears. The boy closed his eyes, happily surrendering to the affection.

“You’ll be staying with us tonight, little one.”

Mathias nodded without the slightest hesitation.

Rachell then looked toward Alexander, a knowing smile forming on her lips.

“Rachell! Good evening, my friend,” Alexander greeted her warmly.

“I imagine my dear friend has gone off in search of the lost treasure,” he added with a wink.

Rachell immediately caught the meaning behind his words—a code meant to keep the children from suspecting anything.

“Oh!” she murmured with a soft laugh. “That’s right. Hermán will be going on the search. And since we’re neighbors, little Mathias’s parents asked me to look after him tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Rachell. This will be resolved very soon,” Alexander assured her calmly. “Just like always.”

“Of course. I trust you.”

Rachell nodded, thanked him with a gentle bow, and headed back home together with the children.

“Now, we’re going home,” Alexander said, taking his son by the hand.

And even though Christopher was intelligent, skilled in martial arts, and possessed innate magical talent, he was still a child… and he enjoyed walking like this, hand in hand with his father.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Mom, we’re back!” Christopher exclaimed as he opened the door and rushed inside.

Alexander followed at a steady pace, but unlike his son, the moment he crossed the threshold, he immediately noticed Valentina’s absence.

“Mom’s not here… where did she go?” Christopher asked, checking every corner of the house. “Do you think she also went to look for the Feathered Serpent?”

Alexander nodded gravely.

“Most likely, yes. Your mother is probably planning to deal with that creature personally.”

As he spoke, he noticed a faint trace of fear flicker across his son’s face. No matter how much of a prodigy Christopher was… he was still only five years old.

It was only natural for him to worry about his mother. What child wouldn’t tremble at the thought of losing the one who gave them life?

Alexander took his hand and gently guided him toward the terrace.

“Don’t worry, son. Remember—your mother is the most powerful mage in the entire village. That magical beast doesn’t stand a chance against her.”

He spoke to reassure him, as any father would. After all, what child wouldn’t feel their heart shake at the idea of their mother facing such danger?

“Come on,” he added softly. “Let’s take a look at how they’re organizing things.”

They climbed the staircase that wound along the side of the living room, shaped like a spiraling coil. In just a few seconds, they reached the door that led directly to the rooftop.

They stepped outside and approached the railing. From there, they could clearly see the teams Alexander had ordered to be formed, gathered below and carrying out what looked like their final checks before departure.

“There’s Mom!” Christopher exclaimed, pointing toward the plaza, where the squads were beginning to assemble.

Even from that distance, both of them could see her clearly.

“Look, Dad! She’s carrying her bow! I’ve never seen her use one… I want to go with them!”

“You’re not going,” Alexander said firmly. “And by the way… you have seen your mother use her bow. You just don’t want to remember it.”

“Tch… buzzkill,” Christopher muttered, crossing his arms in frustration.

Alexander let out a laugh.

“Come on, don’t get mad at me. I can’t let you go. I’d be a terrible father if I did.”

He scratched the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. He knew his son was strong… but this was a completely different matter. What kind of father would he be if he allowed him to take part?

“Look,” he added, changing the subject, “the attack groups have already been formed.”

There were fifteen combatants in total. Five humans. Five elves—including Valentina—experts in archery and magic. There were also two semi-humans and three beastmen.

The two semi-humans were none other than Mathias’s parents.

The squads were organized with clear strategic balance: each group included a human, an elf, and a representative of either the semi-human or beast races.

Christopher quickly recognized several familiar faces among the combatants.

“There are Mathias’s parents…” he murmured.

Both were semi-humans of the Great Feline Clan. They wore black leather armor and carried double-edged swords strapped across their backs.

“And Mr. Hermán is there too.”

Hermán was Sebastián’s father—a strongly built human who looked to be around the same age as Alexander. He had black hair and dark eyes, and it was immediately clear that he was a seasoned warrior.

He wore gauntlets on both hands and iron boots on his feet. Those boots, however, were imbued with runic enchantments that made them feel as light and flexible as soft leather.

Resting at his waist was an elegant katana, its black guard adorned with delicate dragon engravings that extended along the hilt.

Christopher also managed to spot Tobías and Tadeo—the same guards who had accompanied them when they left the village. Standing beside them were the elven brothers, Uno and Dos, who appeared to be giving instructions to the squads.

Thanks to his magical sensitivity, Christopher noticed that every single one of them was a magic user. He felt it the instant they began channeling energy to cast reinforcement spells.

Each group took off at full speed and, with remarkable coordination, vaulted over the village wall. From there, they spread out, heading toward different sections of the forest.

“They used magic…” Christopher whispered, glancing at his father from the corner of his eye, hoping his intuition was correct.

Alexander didn’t answer right away. He remained serious, watching closely.

“Exactly. Do you know what kind of magic they used?”

Christopher smiled, confident.

“Of course. Reinforcement Magic. Most likely to cover more ground in the forest, faster.”

Alexander nodded.

“Now, we wait a bit. If we’re lucky, they’ll find the serpent soon… and we might even be able to see what happens from here.”

“How are we supposed to see anything from this far away?”

“You’ll see,” Alexander replied calmly. “Just be patient. In the meantime, let’s talk a little to pass the time.”

Father and son shared a warm, almost magical conversation. They talked about everything—magic, martial arts, games, friends… life itself.

Alexander carefully guided the conversation toward lighter topics, doing his best to keep his son from worrying about what was happening beyond the village walls.

✧ ✧ ✧

Several hours passed.

Father and son now gazed in silence at a clear sky scattered with stars. The moon—vast and radiant—reigned above them like a silver queen.

It was a moment of pure tranquility.

“Training is really fun,” Christopher said softly. “But this too… looking at the stars is very calming.”

“Sometimes, when I’m very tired, I come up here alone just to look at the stars,” Alexander confessed in a serene tone. “It soothes my soul. Many nights, I’ve fallen asleep on this terrace… and your mother has to come wake me up.”

Christopher stared at the moon, as if its light itself had cast a gentle spell over him.

Then, far in the distance—right in front of the moon—Christopher thought he saw something moving through the sky.

“Huh…? What is that?” he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

His father heard him and looked up.

“What are you tal—?”

BOOOOM!

A thunderous roar shattered the calm of the night, the sound rolling across the forest like an explosion tearing the world apart.

“Look… it’s begun,” Alexander said quietly, guiding his son closer to the railing.

He scanned the horizon, alert—just as another explosion ripped through the air.

This time, they saw it clearly: a brilliant flash illuminating the sky… and only a second later did the sound reach them.

“That’s…” Christopher murmured, his heart pounding.

“Yes,” Alexander replied before his son could finish. “It seems they’ve finally crossed paths with the Feathered Serpent… and they’re fighting it.”

More explosions echoed in the distance, like lightning erupting deep within the forest. It was obvious—the battle was anything but easy.

Father and son fell silent, staring wide-eyed at the magical flares tearing through the darkness… each one brighter and more violent than the last.

Christopher swallowed, his thoughts spinning.

“It looks really hard… even with Mom there,” he murmured, more to himself than to his father.

He thought of her—and for the first time in a long while, genuine fear took hold of his heart.

He wanted to see her.

He wanted her to be safe.

With all his heart, he wished this cursed battle were already over.

“That’s how it seems…” Alexander muttered.

There was no trace of a smile left on his face. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, hard and unblinking, as a deep worry settled in his chest.

His son’s words were painfully accurate.

The fight against the magical beast was far from simple. Even from this distance, the thunder of the explosions and the growing intensity of the magical flashes made it clear they were using extremely powerful spells.

Alexander began tapping his heel against the floor, again and again, without realizing it. Anxiety coursed through his body.

Fortunately, Christopher was too absorbed in the sky to notice the tension etched into his father’s expression.

His own thoughts had grown dark—trapped in fear. Fear that his mother might be injured… or worse.

“Mom…” he whispered, barely audible.

The boy trembled inwardly. Time itself seemed to betray him—it felt as though the battle had already lasted an eternity.

That wasn’t reality. It was fear and adrenaline distorting the passage of time. He wanted only one thing: to see her return… alive, unharmed, hugging him the way she always did.

He reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his father’s coat. Alexander looked down at him… and saw his eyes shimmering, on the verge of tears.

With a trembling voice, Christopher asked,

“Dad… is Mom going to be okay?”

Without hesitation, Alexander lifted him into his arms and held him tightly.

“Your mom is going to be fine. She’s very strong… stronger than any ugly beast that might show up around here. Nothing will happen to her—I promise.”

Christopher didn’t respond.

Alexander smiled softly and tried to lighten the mood.

“Although… ugh. You stink!”

He wrinkled his nose exaggeratedly.

“I’m sorry, but you desperately need a bath.”

“But Dad…” Christopher insisted, still worried.

“No buts. Straight to the shower.”

Alexander gave him a mischievous wink.

“Think of it this way… if Selestia sees you like this, she might stop liking you.”

Christopher pouted, but at least some of the worry loosened its grip on him.

Alexander carried him to the bathroom, where he could take a well-deserved shower and wash away all that ‘supposed’ stench clinging to him… which, truth be told, wasn’t all that supposed.

“If you need me, call out,” his father said with a calm smile. “I’ll be on the rooftop… watching the moon.”

A blatant lie… and not even his son believed it.

What Alexander truly intended was to return to the rooftop—to observe from above, analyze the course of the battle… and be ready for the worst.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Damn it! Why are there five of them now?!”

“Watch out! That one can breathe fire!”

“Heal the wounded!”

“It started a fire!”

“Don’t let the poison reach you!”

“A—Ackk… it stabbed me… with its… t-tail…!”

“We’ve taken down two already!”

“Lady Valentina, please take a moment to rest!”

“Don’t worry! You handle those ones… I’ll go after the biggest one!”

✧ ✧ ✧

Christopher felt lighter than ever. It was the sensation of having finally relaxed a little—his body now clean, dressed in lighter clothes. He was still worried about his mother, but the sharp edge of that anguish had softened.

He trusted—with all the innocence of his heart—that his mom, and everyone else, would return safe and sound.

He wanted to go back up to the rooftop. He wanted to see what was happening… he wanted to know. Maybe from there, he could catch a glimpse of something.

But his father intercepted him at the foot of the stairs, coming down.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“I want to see how the fight is going…”

“Well, no, young man,” Alexander cut in, wagging his finger side to side with a teasing smile. “It’s time for you to get into bed. If your mother comes back and you’re not asleep… she’ll scold both of us!”

“But Dad…” Christopher protested, his face twisted in childish frustration. “How do you expect me to sleep if Mom isn’t home? They’re fighting! I should at least stay awake and—”

“No buts,” his father said firmly, closing his eyes with a decisive gesture. “There’s a curfew. So eat something and go straight to bed. I won’t accept a ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I’m your father, and you must obey me.”

He had no choice but to comply. After all, he was still a child… and he couldn’t go against his father.

Father and son shared a simple, quiet dinner. Then, as if following a nightly ritual, they went straight to bed.

Christopher lay there, restless—a knot of irritation and anxiety twisting in his chest.

The battle against the Feathered Serpent was still raging somewhere out there… and at the very least, he wished he could see it, even if only from the rooftop.

Alexander lay down beside him and spoke in a gentle voice.

“I know you’re very anxious, son, but please… don’t worry.”

“You’ll see—when you wake up, your mother will be back with everyone else. They might even bring back the serpent’s corpse,” he added, ruffling his hair with a faint smile. “I know you’d like to see it. Now… try to sleep.”

Alexander rose quietly, cast one last look at his son… and left the room without making a sound.

Christopher sighed.

There was no point in going up to the rooftop if he couldn’t do anything.

And even if he did something foolish—like heading all the way to where the battle was taking place—he would only get in the way. If even his mother and the others were struggling, he didn’t want to imagine what would happen to him.

Dad is right… he told himself, trying to believe it. Tomorrow everything will be fine. Mom will come back.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to sleep, clinging tightly to that hope.

Meanwhile, Alexander—arms crossed, his face hardened with worry—returned to the rooftop.

From there, he gazed into the distance… where fire now stained the horizon with a dull red glow.

The battle was still raging.

And there were no signs it would end anytime soon.

The night wind blew softly… but far away, the roar of the flames sounded like a faceless monster.

And Alexander, without saying a word, remained there—waiting for news that had yet to arrive.