Chapter 13: After math
Leon's chest heaved as he leaned against the barricade, his body aching from the strain of the battle and the constant pull of his magic.
The fog around Eldwood was thinning, revealing a battlefield littered with the charred and broken bodies of goblins, kobolds, and imps.
The war drums had fallen silent, replaced by the ragged breathing of the surviving townsfolk and the crackle of dying fires.
His hand still clutched the smooth stone, its faint glow dimming as his magic waned, leaving him feeling like a wrung-out sponge.
The thrill of his small fireball—his wizard moment—still buzzed in his veins, but it was tempered by exhaustion and the lingering fear that he was still, undeniably, a fish out of water in this brutal world.
Saria stood at the center of the barricade, her sword sheathed, her black ponytail barely mussed despite the carnage she'd unleashed.
Her face remained a stoic mask, her dark eyes scanning the horizon for any lingering threats.
The fiery aura around her hands had faded, but her presence was still commanding, a beacon of strength amid the chaos.
Tila, the young archer, and Boren, the grizzled spearman, stood nearby, wiping blood and sweat from their weapons, their faces etched with relief and fatigue.
A shout broke the silence—a cheer from one of the townsfolk, raw and triumphant.
"We did it!" a mage called, his voice hoarse but jubilant.