Chapter 30: West Coast, Southern Lands, Old Friends Wither Like Fallen Leaves
Village Inspections Winger expected trouble, but only formalities remained. Safety came first for buildings; details could wait. Rhine briefed her on roads and housing. Morning news mentioned nearby villages. Monster attacks were frequent, situations grim. Last night’s phenomenon likely spooked the beasts. Maple Whisper’s defenses held strong. Weaker villages struggled. “Any city news?” Winger asked. “Scouts say beast tides lingered past midnight,” Rhine replied. She saw an opportunity. Young villagers needed training. A year’s practice couldn’t match one real fight. Start with low-level monsters. They’d handle future clearings. Rhine noted the task. Passing the village well, Winger paused. Peach was gone. No need to worry about it. Veyi was the real troublemaker. The village was improving. Roads were wide and steady, despite other flaws.
Welcoming the Merchant Noise came from outside. Traveling merchants had arrived. Rhine had other duties, notifying villagers. Winger went alone to check. Carriages parked on open ground. A plump merchant, Bam, grinned broadly. “Mr. Bam, thanks again,” Winger said, inspecting goods. “My honor! Serving you is unmatched!” His smooth face screamed easy living. His flattery was pure social finesse. “The seeds you brought grew. Got more?” Bam eagerly showcased his wares. Last time, a blacksmith’s visit cut their talk short. Winger examined items, picking what intrigued her. Most were standard, overpriced from afar. She had money, not foolishness. Someday, she’d visit the west coast. Vick claimed its flavors matched here. Maybe he was just polite. She paused at a boxed item. “What’s this?” “From a southern town,” Bam said. “Popular with nobles. Suits you. Take it.”
A Heavy Loss Bam talked too much. Winger had just said that to someone. “No thanks,” she said firmly. She didn’t like owing favors. Nothing warranted his flattery. She pulled gold coins from her robe—her inventory. “How’s your grandfather?” “He… passed six months ago,” Bam said. “He didn’t want you told. Don’t be mad.” Winger wasn’t angry. His words barely registered. Bam tried refusing her coins, claiming excess. He wanted to gift the item. Her focus shifted. Something approached the wheat fields. She patted his shoulder. “Get your people inside.” Her mental senses stretched thin, like a thread. It reached far, but narrowly. Familiarity with Maple Whisper made it safe. She sensed a barrier—Church-related? Her eyes narrowed. The presence was unmistakable. She prepared to act.
Unexpected Visitors Anna rarely felt awe, but this secluded place impressed her. Without urgent news, she’d never come. Leaving the canyon, fields opened wide. “Nice place,” she said. Roger, her knight, agreed. Riding into the village, farmers glanced curiously. A silver-haired girl waited on a brown horse. Roger approached. “Where’s the church?” Winger studied them. “And you are?” Anna lifted her hood, smiling. “Anna Green. This is Sir Roger, Church knight for otherworld matters.” “Winger.” Roger removed a glove. “Forgive my heavy armor.” Winger nodded, shaking hands. She pointed to the church. Reila would handle them. Roger’s armed presence was imposing. He’d manage surprises. A dull rumble came from another direction. The ground trembled faintly. Black horses charged in, slowed by the road. Their leader paused, awaiting Winger’s orders.
Leading the Charge Winger glanced, nodding. She gripped the reins, bidding farewell. “I’ve urgent business. Feel free in the village.” With the mine under Kailos’s watch, she could leave. The Church’s presence might raise questions. No matter—she’d act anyway. Clearing monsters was key to expansion. Important tasks needed her personally. Dozens of horses thundered past, shaking the earth. Anna and Roger stepped aside. They waited until the group passed. Roger spoke after a pause. “Lady Green, you should watch your territory.” “Those aren’t warhorses,” Anna said. “No battle aura, just militia.” A forty-to-fifty-person cavalry was large for a village. Recent unrest explained it. Monsters surged, and remote areas relied on local forces. “Do your job, Roger,” Anna said. “I’ll handle my land.” Roger noted Winger lacked divine blessing. The Church wouldn’t meddle in her affairs. Anna smiled faintly, unbothered.
A Weary Duty Anna was tired. As long as Glennmbak endured, who ruled didn’t matter. Her focus was survival. The village could wait. Her mission lay elsewhere. She rode on, resolute.