Chapter 100 - 98 — Weak
Under the village head’s insistent gaze, Zephyrion agreed. As the village head left to join the others, his gaze lingered on him.
’Good.’
With his acknowledgment gained, it was unlikely the village head would restrict their movements again. Now, he would be free to observe the situation from a better position.
Though numerous warriors moved about, clearing the area and tending to the injured, all eyes still somehow found their way back to Zephyrion.
Unfazed, he turned and walked back toward the village.
"Damn... the young lord is insane."
"He went head-on with a Drogoth... how is that even possible?"
From atop the wall, the two trainees gawked at the sight of the massive Drogoth Zephyrion had killed.
"Damn it..."
Kaiden gritted his teeth, his gaze sharp. He had thought the distance between them was closing. But now that Zephyrion had just performed such an impossible feat, what the hell was he supposed to believe!?
Still, he clenched both fists, his eyes burning with determination.
’I won’t lose.’
Beside him, Fiona’s determined gaze also remained fixed on Zephyrion as he walked.
’Young lord...’
From the villagers who had gathered to watch, to the warriors who had witnessed everything, all eyes were locked onto Zephyrion, whispers spreading in low waves.
...
Loud, rumbling laughter filled the space. Warriors drifted about in groups, trading jokes and slamming bottles against the tables.
The atmosphere was vibrant, but Zephyrion hated vibrant, especially when it was this loud. Though seated far back, away from most of the crowd, the noise still pressed in on him, relentless.
Kaiden was seated just beside him, a deep, brooding look settled on his face for most of the night. Fiona, seated on his other side, appeared far more lively, her bright eyes moving across the bustling atmosphere as she took everything in.
From time to time, warriors would stop by their table to acknowledge Zephyrion, raising drinks in his direction and praising his earlier accomplishments.
He would return the gesture, lifting the cup and bringing the rum to his lips, but he never drank. Alcohol muddled the mind. To him, it was the worst kind of poison.
Despite the noise, his attention never stilled. His gaze moved, taking everything in.
Every single person within the tavern wore brownish leather armor and carried at least one weapon.
From the whispers, Zephyrion had gathered they were hunters, the ones responsible for protecting the gatherers who ventured into the forest for pulsewood.
In essence, the village’s fighting force. And somehow, the laughter, the cheers, the attention, everything in the tavern seemed to revolve around a single person.
The village head’s son, Guren.
A massive crowd had gathered around him, each one gawking in awe as he recounted his exploits in the forest.
Everything Zephyrion had gathered about Guren so far told him the boy wasn’t as simple as he made himself out to be, yet what he had wasn’t nearly enough to form a full picture.
’I’ll have to talk to him.’
"A toast!"
At the shout, the chaotic laughter and chatter across the tavern fell silent instantly.
The village head stood atop a platform, raising a glass high.
"You all know the stories... how our ancestors held this village when everything tried to tear it down. No matter what came, they stood their ground."
"And today... it’s our turn. We hold the line, we protect this place, so the next generation has somewhere to call home! So, raise your cups! To our warriors!"
A chorus of deafening cheers erupted from the warriors as their mugs shot up in waves.
"...And to this young warrior, who stood up when we needed him most!"
Eyes turned toward Zephyrion, cheers rising as nods of approval followed.
"Hmph." Kaiden let out a sharp sound, clearly annoyed that Zephyrion had received such praise and not him.
"And lastly..."
The village head gestured toward his son, Guren, a warm smile spreading across his face.
"My son. Our hope. He went into that forest and came back with a way forward for us. He’s proof that Pulsegrove doesn’t bow to anyone!"
The village head raised his cup even higher.
"So drink! To Pulsegrove!"
Loud, rumbling roars tore from the warriors as they began chanting.
"Pulsegrove! Pulsegrove! Pulsegrove!"
"Guren! Guren! Guren!"
The next instant, Guren was hoisted up and thrown into the air in intense celebration.
The party peaked at that point. By then, Fiona had already joined in, conversing with the hunters, while Kaiden remained at the table, brooding in silence.
Zephyrion had separated himself from the crowd. He leaned back against the wall at the far end of the tavern, silently observing.
Any villager who tried to approach was met with a cold glance, forcing them to hesitate, then retreat with uneasy looks.
Right now, he was completely alone. The perfect condition to engineer an approach.
"Let me guess... this isn’t really your thing?"
Perfect.
Zephyrion maintained his unfazed look and turned. Guren was approaching him.
He looked back toward the bustling tavern, paused briefly, then spoke,
"...you could say that."
"Haha... I knew it." Guren laughed and casually leaned against the wall beside him.
"Honestly, I was in your position a few years ago. I used to think things like this were a waste of my time. Want to know how I got used to it?"
"...Sure."
"You simply remind yourself where you stand."
As Zephyrion quietly raised an eyebrow, Guren nodded and gestured toward the hunters busy partying and enjoying themselves.
"Just look at them... all of them came close to death today, yet they’re already partying and laughing like nothing happened. They believe that with hope and resolve, everything will turn out for the best."
Zephyrion glanced at him.
"...you don’t?"
"No, I do not." Guren shook his head, his expression firm.
"That’s the weak way of thinking. The truly strong take matters into their own hands. We see the world for what it is, we understand reality. The weak are powerless, so they cling to false hope, get lost in shallow pleasures, and deny what’s right in front of them. They eat, talk, laugh... completely oblivious. They are weak."
’He’s testing me.’
Second time meeting, and he had already revealed his mindset. Still, the analogy was a simple one.
Guren was testing to see what kind of person he was. If his response supported the weak, then he was weak-minded and could be exploited. If he agreed, then he was dangerous.
Zephyrion, of course, chose neither.
"Weak... like your sister?"