The scent of roasted meat still lingered in the air long after the servants had stepped back. The clinking of silverware faded, leaving only the low murmur of voices and the faint hiss of candles burning low.

Lord Merith leaned back in his chair, hands clasped loosely before him. His gaze never wavered from Apnoch, who sat to his left, his armor polished for the first time in days. Damien sat opposite them, silent as ever, eyes half-lidded but alert.

“So,” Merith said at last, voice smooth and deliberate. “You’re telling me that Delwig—a fortress city that has withstood sieges for centuries—was destroyed in a single night?”

Apnoch exhaled slowly. “It wasn’t a siege, my lord. It was a slaughter. Something broke loose… something none of us were prepared for.”

Merith’s expression tightened. “I’ve heard whispers—rumors of a rift, of magic gone wild. But I didn’t believe them.”

“You’d better believe them now,” Apnoch said, his tone tired but steady. “If not for Damien, none of us would be sitting here.”

The lord’s eyes flicked toward the quiet man at the far end of the table. “I’ve heard his name more than a few times these past days. But not nearly enough about what he did.”

Damien looked up slowly, meeting Merith’s gaze. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Merith said, lips curving faintly. “A single man doesn’t stand against a general turned monster and live to tell the tale.”

Apnoch smirked faintly. “You’d be surprised. Damien’s not exactly ordinary.”

The lord tilted his head. “So I’ve gathered. Still, indulge my curiosity. How did you do it?”

Damien set down his knife with a soft clink. “I fought him,” he said simply. “Alongside my summons.”

“Summons?” Merith echoed, intrigued. “I’ve read of summoners, but rarely have I met one strong enough to stand against an entire army.”

Damien’s tone didn’t change. “Strength had nothing to do with it. It was survival.”

For a moment, the table went still. Even Apnoch didn’t interrupt. There was something about the calm in Damien’s voice—a quiet finality—that discouraged further questions.

Merith studied him, eyes narrowing just slightly. “A man who survives by instinct. I respect that.” He took another sip of wine, the faint smile returning. “Still, I hope you’ll forgive my curiosity. I’ve had few opportunities to meet the kind of people legends are made from.”

“Legends are for the dead,” Damien said. “And I don’t even think I’m fit to carry such a title.”

Apnoch gave a short laugh, trying to lighten the air. “And he intends to stay that way for a while yet.”

Merith chuckled softly, but his gaze lingered on Damien for a heartbeat too long before shifting back to Apnoch. “Then perhaps it’s better we focus on the living. Tell me, Captain—how many survived Delwig’s fall?”

“Barely a dozen,” Apnoch answered. “Most of them civilians and wounded soldiers. We’ve lost contact with the others or rather, there hasn’t been anyone trying to reach out to us. I doubt anyone’s left.”

The lord’s expression sobered. “I see… A tragedy, truly. Delwig was one of our strongest borders. The Verdant Verge feels emptier without it.”

Apnoch nodded grimly. “We intend to honor those we lost. But we’ll need time—and a place—to rebuild.”

Merith’s tone softened. “And you’ll have both, as long as I draw breath. The survivors will be granted provisional citizenship, food, and lodging. You’ve earned at least that much.”

Apnoch bowed his head. “You have my thanks, my lord. You don’t know what this means to them.”

Merith smiled faintly. “It’s nothing less than duty.” He rose then, motioning for them to follow. “Come. I prefer to walk after a heavy meal. The courtyard’s cooler at this hour.”

The night air outside was crisp, carrying the scent of rain from distant hills. Lanterns lined the marble walkways, their glow flickering across polished stone and blooming gardens.

Apnoch walked at the lord’s side, still speaking of logistics—how to settle the refugees, where to rebuild their watchtowers, the supply lines that needed restoring. Damien trailed a few paces behind, silent as ever, his gaze drifting toward the horizon beyond the manor walls.

Merith eventually slowed his steps. “Tell me, Captain,” he said, “how long do you and your people intend to stay in my city?”

Apnoch hesitated. “That depends,” he said honestly. “If Delwig can be rebuilt, we’ll return. But the fortress is nothing but rubble now. Until then… we’ll likely remain here, if you’ll have us.”

“You’ll be welcome,” Merith assured him. “This city could use men like you. Experienced, disciplined. Perhaps Delwig’s fall was the end of one era and the start of another.”

Apnoch nodded appreciatively. “Then we’re grateful.”

Merith turned then to Damien, curiosity sharpening his features. “And you, Damien? Will you stay as well?”

Damien met his gaze, expression unreadable. “No.”

Apnoch blinked. “What?”

Merith raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving?”

“Soon,” Damien said. His tone carried no hesitation, no doubt. “I don’t know where yet. But I won’t stay here long.”

The lord studied him carefully. “May I ask why?”

“Because I don’t believe it’s over,” Damien said simply. “Delwig didn’t fall by chance. Something or someone caused it. Something beyond the general. And it’s still out there.”

Apnoch frowned. “You think the corruption from the Gate’s rupture is still active?”

“I don’t think,” Damien said quietly. “I know.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The night hummed softly around them—the chirping of insects, the distant rhythm of the city guards making their rounds.

Then Merith exhaled, the faintest trace of a smile curving his lips. “A man chasing ghosts,” he said, not unkindly. “I suppose every survivor carries a bit of the past with him.”

Damien’s gaze stayed fixed on the sky. “Ghosts don’t bother me. It’s what wakes them that does.”

Apnoch rubbed a hand over his face. “And here I thought we might get a week without chaos.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Damien replied.

Merith clasped his hands behind his back, his tone thoughtful now. “Well then, Damien… should your path ever bring you back, my city’s gates will be open. But something tells me you won’t need them.”

Damien inclined his head in silent acknowledgment. However, he still had to show appreciation. “Thank you for the enticing offer.”

They reached the far end of the courtyard where a fountain murmured beneath the starlight. Merith stopped and gestured toward it, smiling faintly. “For now, though—rest. You’ve earned it. Whatever comes next can wait until morning.”

Apnoch gave a tired nod. “That’s the best order I’ve heard all week.”

Damien said nothing. He stood there a moment longer, staring into the water’s rippling surface, his reflection breaking apart with every shift of the wind.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep