Chapter 104 - 103: The Last Mission

Chapter 104: Chapter 103: The Last Mission Blood still soaked the earth when Skitz and Aren silently returned to Lumberling’s side. There were no questions. No hesitation. Only understanding, he’d done it for the elf. Their eyes turned toward the girl. Barefoot, trembling, bruises hidden beneath thin rags, her eyes vacant like a soul left too long in the dark. Skitz finally broke the silence. "Is she someone important to you, my Lord?" Lumberling didn’t answer at first. His gaze remained on the elf, unreadable. "No," he said at last, voice flat. "She’s a stranger." A brief flicker of confusion passed over Skitz’s face. Aren frowned, quietly trying to make sense of it. If she wasn’t anyone... then why? None of them spoke the question aloud. They were soldiers, loyal to the end. Even if that end came from a single decision no one fully understood. "Maybe she’s a mage," Lumberling added suddenly, as if grasping for logic. "That might be useful." But they all heard the lie in his voice. Even Lumberling. He looked away. Deep inside, doubt churned like storm clouds. ’Stupid,’ he thought. ’You made a decision based on emotion. You just killed the Knight of a Baron. You burned a deal with a noble. You might’ve signed our death warrant.’ His mind listed the risks, the consequences. The Earl. Their reputation. He’d shattered it all, for her. But then he looked again. The elf stood like a shadow barely holding together. Her eyes stared forward, unfocused, numb. She didn’t flinch at the corpses. Didn’t speak. Just... waited. And something inside him broke. He remembered the first time he saw her, back in Novgord’s black market, when she was just another item on display, sold in chains. Even then, something in her gaze had haunted him. ’How many more times would she be passed around like that... if I hadn’t?’ Lumberling exhaled, staring at the sky above. ’This will stain us.’ ’We’re no longer mercenaries. We’re deserters. Outlaws.’ He closed his eyes. All the work they’d poured into Duskpire. The name. The reputation. All gone. Because of his single decision. He turned to his men, jaw tight, voice firm. "The Duskpire Legion is no more." Skitz looked up, lips parting slightly, but he didn’t speak. Aren’s hand curled around his spear, but not in resistance. Only acceptance. Rogar, Gorrak, Trask, none of them flinched. They all knew. This was the last mission. Lumberling took a final glance at the broken path behind them. Then looked forward. "Let’s return home," he said. One by one, they nodded. No words. Just the weight of a decision that couldn’t be undone. They mounted up. And left the battlefield behind. The banners of Duskpire, once proud, were never raised again. But in their place... A new Chapter began. ..... The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of birds. Dusk draped the treetops in fading gold as the Duskpire remnants rode in silence. Lumberling slowed his horse, falling in line beside the wagon. The elf girl sat in the back, wrapped in a spare cloak. She hadn’t spoken since the battle. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, eyes distant, fixed on nothing. He walked beside her now, leading his horse by the reins. "What’s your name?" he asked in Sengolio. For a moment, he thought she hadn’t heard him. But then, her lips moved. Barely. "...Sylra." A soft, broken whisper. Lumberling nodded once, absorbing the name. It was all he got. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t ask where they were going. Didn’t thank him. She just sat there, hollow, distant, a fragment of someone who used to be whole. He didn’t press her. .... Later, by the campfire That night, as his squad slept in scattered watch shifts and Sylra rested near the fire with her knees hugged to her chest, Lumberling sat apart from the group, staring into the flames. The shadows played across his face as thoughts gnawed at his mind. ’We left no survivors. Burned the evidence. No one should know.’ His eyes narrowed slightly. ’But the Earl... he’s not a fool. Sooner or later, he’ll notice the mission never finished. That Gerald never returned.’ He clenched his jaw, watching a log crackle and collapse. ’He’ll investigate. Track the trail. And if they find us...’ He glanced toward his sleeping men, Skitz’s arm over his chest, Aren still awake, sharpening a blade in thoughtless repetition. They trusted him. And the elf. She lay curled near the edge of the firelight, motionless but not asleep. She stared at the flames, but there was nothing behind her eyes. ’This is the cost,’ he thought. ’We’ve already paid the price for saving her. Now we live with it.’ He exhaled. The path forward was simple. ’We vanish. We train. We grow.’ ’And when the Earl comes... we won’t run.’ ’We’ll be ready.’ Lumberling stood and walked back to the fire. He looked down at Sylra. She didn’t move, didn’t flinch. But he placed a thick cloak gently over her shoulders anyway. Then he returned to the shadows, his eyes already looking toward the future. ..... Weeks of travel, silence, and long glances behind them... and finally, home was in sight. The edges of the goblin village peeked through the forest, stone-lined huts, wooden fences, smoke curling from chimneys. Familiar scents of grilled meat and wet soil welcomed them like an old friend. The first to spot them was Grokk, standing vigilant near the village entrance, spear in hand. He didn’t wave or shout. But the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile. "Welcome home, my Lord," Grokk said, his voice deep and steady as always. Lumberling nodded, eyes scanning the village for any signs of disturbance. The defensive palisades looked intact, watchtowers manned, scouts alert. From above, Shade flickered into view for a moment, black legs barely visible as it slithered across the trees. It curled back just as quickly. "Is he... shy?" Skitz muttered with a raised brow. Lumberling chuckled under his breath. "Still prefers the trees, I guess." They dismounted as Uncle Drake, Celine, Orrin, Jen, and even Old Man Dan stepped out from the central longhouse. Behind them, curious goblins and kobolds peeked from rooftops and corners, whispering among themselves. "Brother!" Jen cried, racing over and nearly knocking into him with a hug. "You’re back!" Uncle Drake’s voice was full of relief, though something in his tone felt tight. Controlled. Even Celine smiled, now cradling a young baby in her arms, though her gaze flickered past the group, toward the covered cart at the rear, her expression subtly tightening. Grokk stepped closer to Lumberling, expression subtle, but troubled. Something was off. "What’s wrong?" Uncle Drake asked after a beat. "Did something happen? You look like you lost a war." Lumberling gave a tired, wry smile. "Yes." He glanced at Grokk, then back to the others. "But we’ll talk about that later. For now..." He gestured toward the cart. A few seconds later, Skitz pulled the cloth aside. Inside, curled up beneath a thick cloak, was the elf. Thin. Pale. Distant. Her silver hair was matted from travel, and her once-smooth skin was marred by fresh bruises. Her eyes, empty. Celine and Jen both drew closer, their eyes widening at the sight of the pointed ears. "She’s... what is she?" Jen asked, voice low in awe. "An elf?" "I’ll explain later," Lumberling replied. "For now... Can you take care of her?" Jen looked hesitant, but nodded. Celine knelt beside the cart, brushing the elf’s hair aside. She frowned as she met those hollow eyes. "She’s... hurting." "I know," Lumberling said softly. The women helped her down gently and led her into the healer’s quarters, their voices hushed with care. Lumberling turned his attention back to Grokk. "Where’s Skarn?" Grokk straightened. "He went to assist Krivex two weeks ago. They reported running into a powerful monster." Lumberling frowned. "Do they need help?" Grokk shook his head. "They said reinforcements would suffice. The area was deep forest, near one of the beast dens. They should return soon." "Hmm." Lumberling’s gaze shifted, taking a deeper look at Grokk, and he felt it. That pressure. The air around Grokk had changed. His stance was firmer. His presence heavier. "You’ve grown stronger." Grokk gave a rare smile. "Thank you, my Lord. A few monsters dared to breach the outer boundary. I handled them. It helped me... progress." Lumberling nodded and stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Grokk’s shoulder. "You’ve done well. Thank you for protecting our home." Grokk gave a single, proud nod. "It is my duty."