To the west of the desolate Barren Hills of Deepshadow, Eliot patrolled the perimeter astride one of the village’s level 2 steeds, his keen eyes scanning the landscape as dawn broke across the horizon.

  A level 2 village archer himself, Eliot’s features held a practiced serenity, born from countless hours of surveillance. As the village’s mages had grown in power, certain duties had become their exclusive domain. Among these was the western watch, where Arcanis’ beasts should emerge.

  Unlike Elia, who lacked a warrior’s calling and thus was exempt from these vigils, Eliot found himself increasingly drawn to these outpost duties. His time within the village walls had dwindled as his hours on patrol went up.

  This arrangement suited him perfectly. Archery was Eliot’s genuine passion—his bowstring singing was sweeter than any melody. If duty placed him where opportunities to practice his craft were plentiful, he embraced it wholeheartedly.

  Yet, young Eliot harbored no illusions about the devastating toll battles would take on his village. Though his blood sang with the thrill of combat, his demeanor remained composed, seeking no unnecessary confrontation. Following his established routine, he inspected each checkpoint along his route, searching for telltale tracks and the beast's spoor, hoping to avoid conflict.

  His mount carried him at an unhurried pace along the north-south trajectory that marked the boundary between the independent territory and Arcanis’ domain within the Barren Hills of Deepshadow.

  Eliot’s vigilant gaze, enhanced by his unique {Skill}, alternated between the lifeless earth below and the western horizon. Even if his attention wavered, he had additional security—high above, the eagle Veris soared at a hundred meters, circling Eliot’s position and providing an aerial survey of the terrain.

  While Eliot valued Veris’ capabilities, he maintained a healthy skepticism about relying on another’s observations, regardless of whether they came from beast, human, or mage. His own eyes remained his most trusted allies.

  ‘Another day without signs of trouble, it seems.’

  As his shift drew to a close, Eliot released a weighted sigh, unsettled by the continued absence of enemy activity. Months had elapsed since Jonn’s negotiation with the Triceratops horde. Why hadn’t their warnings materialized?

  Eliot knew that each quiet day benefited the village. Yet, the prolonged quiet only deepened his unease. Had the Triceratops horde been mistaken? Or did something more ominous lurk behind this delay?

  These questions plagued him without answers, but his instincts screamed that the longer this calm persisted, the more violent the storm would be when it finally broke.

  Lost in these dark musings during the last stretch of his watch, Eliot caught the sharp, distinctive cry of an eagle. His attention snapped westward, searching for Veris’ signal.

  Mana surged through his optical nerves, causing his eyes to gleam with ethereal blue light as his vision sharpened, stretching to the very limits of the horizon.

  The distant scene, typically indiscernible to a level 2 mage, suddenly crystallized as if he had traversed several kilometers in an instant.

  Eliot’s expression hardened as he interpreted Veris’ warning. Roughly nine kilometers ahead, a group of six massive creatures lumbered northward.

  ‘Dinosaurs… Beasts, to make matters worse!’'

  He identified the threats Veris had spotted, discerning not only their massive silhouettes but also the ominous flow of mana coursing through their bodies.

  Without hesitation, Eliot wheeled his mount toward the village. “Time to retreat. This is beyond our capabilities,” he said loudly enough for Veris to hear before spurring his horse into a gallop, racing back to alert his people of the impending danger.

  Veris executed one last sweep in her circular patrol, her gaze locked onto the distant creatures. Unlike Eliot’s broader perspective, her keen avian eyes could distinguish not only their presence but also their specific races and tribal affiliations.

  Banking sharply, she adjusted her flight path toward the village, descending until she flew level with Eliot’s face, her wings cutting through the air parallel to the earth below.

  “Veris must go. The horde needs her,” the creature announced, her rarely heard voice drawing Eliot’s attention. “Warn your chieftain about the Tyrannosaurus Rex. They pose a grave threat—prepare yourselves!”

  With those dark words, she wheeled upward in a graceful spiral, ascending rapidly to 300 meters before vanishing toward the Lost Treasures’ territory.

  Eliot watched Veris’ retreating form as his mount thundered across the landscape, cold sweat beading on his brow. Regret gnawed at him over the weeks of fruitless surveillance.

  ‘Old Hewet was right… We can’t complain. There’s always a way to make it worse, even if you’re already in the shit!’

  Later, within the heart of the Eternal Village…

  Eliot reached the settlement as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, having ridden hard for several hours.

  Jonn was concluding his daily duties and preparing for his evening studies when the commotion of Eliot’s urgent return from the western watch reached his ears.

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  Upon spotting his friend before the Council building, Jonn fell in with several Councilors as they hurried inside, gathering in the Councilors’ Hall, where Eliot began detailing the warning he’d already briefly conveyed en route.

  The archer had barely finished his report to the half-assembled Council when Asher burst through the doors, Petyr at his heels.

  “We have a problem!” the guard leader growled, his facial scar seeming to writhe with his grimace. “Enemies are approaching from the north!”

  Lance and Tim’s faces were drained of color; the timing of this new threat struck them like a physical blow.

  “Northern enemies? Who?” Elia demanded, her brow furrowed with genuine concern at this second warning.

  While the dinosaur sighting westward had been expected, if unwelcome, the Council had mentally steeled itself for such news. But northern aggressors? This was an unexpected complication.

  “Acelin leads over a hundred guards!” Petyr spat, rage pulsing visibly in his neck and temple.

  He and his nephew had been patrolling the northern perimeter when they discovered tracks from horses and wagons. A brief investigation led them to a massive encampment barely ninety minutes from the village. They had managed to identify one of the group’s leaders before rushing back with their urgent intelligence.

  Elia’s eyes sought Jonn’s, watching youth and optimism drain from his features. “Acelin?” he echoed in dismay, watching Elia’s previous warnings materialize into stark reality.

  “That cursed merchant and his group bear a symbol you both know,” Petyr confirmed, his gaze boring into Jonn’s. “They fly the banner of a white castle bound in black chains.”

  “Uranius?” Elia breathed, recalling their unsettling encounter years prior, when Acelin and his ally Uranius had extended their duplicitous invitation to the Lost Treasures.

  A heavy silence fell as each Council member. They recalled the disturbing rumors of the darker nature of Lost Treasures’ powers—how they preyed upon opportunity-seeking travelers and transformed them into slaves.

  Though Jonn and Elia had previously voiced their misgivings about the Lost Treasures to the Council, warning that Acelin might eventually turn against them, none had expected such a brazen move. Their fears had centered on trade manipulation and distant ambushes—not a direct action against their homeland.

  This aggressive approach marked an entirely different caliber of threat!

  “That must be the mastermind of this movement,” Jonn confirmed Elia’s suspicion about Uranius, his features tightening at the dual crisis unfolding before him.

  This is bad! The Dayflare Family’s envoys won’t arrive for at least another month. We may have to face these two problems alone!

  Despite the dire circumstances, Jonn steeled himself for action. Glancing between Petyr and Eliot, he said, “The northern force isn’t our only concern. Beasts have been spotted west of our borders.”

  The blood drained from Petyr's and Asher’s faces. An armed contingent was troubling enough, but dinosaurs? That spelled catastrophe!

  “How do we deal with it?” Asher asked in a tremulous tone that was unusual for him.

  Jonn’s fists clenched as he surveyed the Council members scattered around the hall’s table, some standing rigid with tension, others collapsed into their seats. Drawing a steadying breath, he commanded, “Eliot, return to the western front.” His voice cut through the chorus of anxious breathing that filled the chamber. “Gather Hank and some beasts. Maintain surveillance until I can shift my attention there. The northern threat demands an immediate response—they’re practically at our doorstep.”

  Eliot acknowledged the order with a sharp nod before bolting from the hall, leaving the Council to process Jonn’s decision.

  “Petyr, mobilize William and assemble a strike force,” Jonn continued. “We move out in thirty minutes—not a moment later.”

  The guard leader vanished as swiftly as Eliot, recognizing the precious value of every passing second.

  “The rest of you, secure yourselves within the walls until my return,” Jonn concluded. “Elia, you know your role.”

  She nodded grimly, deeply troubled by the unfolding crisis. Yet, like her fellow Councilors, she recognized the necessity of immediate action. They lacked the resources to combat both threats simultaneously—their only option was to end one threat quickly.

  Beasts posed a more formidable challenge, but Acelin’s forces were dangerously near. The Council unanimously supported the mission against the northern human threat. Hence, they would move to prepare their community while the warning of trouble sounded from inside the Council building itself.

  The drum’s resonant warning echoed across the settlement until it reached the animal area, alerting everyone in the vicinity.

  Roulf lifted his head from his twilight rest, while Annabelle emerged from her coop, eyes glinting with alertness. Ice halted his southern camp patrol, his diminutive tail rising rigidly with warning as he fixed his gaze on the walled perimeter.

  The wolf’s reaction mirrored throughout the community. Southern camp residents froze mid-task, their attention drawn to the bamboo gate. Weariness from daily labor transformed instantly into sharp vigilance, even the children recognizing the drum’s dire significance.

  The threat of approaching hostiles galvanized the civilians into action, streaming toward the walled sanctuary. Only the guards moved counter to the flow, preparing for immediate deployment against the signaled threat.

  Jonn efficiently donned his battle gear before exiting the Council chambers, flanked by Elia and a newly-arrived Alis, both women pressing for details.

  William appeared soon after, having left the village mages’ meditation area, outside the walled area, as soon as he heard the warning signal. “What’s going on?” he asked, the same as Alis and some other members of the village on their way out of the walled area.

  “Enemies,” Jonn replied tersely. “You’re with me, William. We’re paying a visit to our uninvited northern guests.”

  The man frowned, not expecting one of the threats Jonn had exposed to reach the village so soon. He was still considering the possibility that Jonn was trying to trick them. But hearing those words toward the end of the afternoon made him instantly reconsider.

  His warrior instincts surfaced immediately as he demanded, “How many are we talking about? Are there mages among them?”

  “We don’t have that information yet. Our beasts didn’t get close enough to them to find that out. But let’s consider the worst,” Jonn said, but his concern was once again not with the group close to his community. As in the previous situation, there was a mastermind behind such a group, which meant beating today’s opponent didn’t mean the end of the problems.

  “Anyway, even if there are no mages, the next enemies will certainly be mages. You’d better get ready. We may need your family’s support much sooner than I had imagined!”

  The warrior mage remained silent, following Jonn and those two women, both asking questions and talking about what would happen next.

  “Alis, be ready to receive our wounded men. Unfortunately, the situation is too dangerous for you to go with us; otherwise, I would take you with us,” he said to the healer before looking at Elia. “That’s all for now. Wish us luck.”

  With those words, he left the area full of fearful people, ordering the guards to close the bamboo gate while a small cavalry was waiting for him not far ahead of the southern camp.

  Petyr’s mounted guards stood ready, fully armed and briefed, alongside Ice, Annabelle, Roulf, and the bear and armadillo coming from the horde.

  Annabelle, the bear, and the armadillo would remain behind. Meanwhile, Phantom and many roosters had departed with Hank and Eliot’s western watch. Only Ice and Roulf would join Jonn’s northern expedition in the fading daylight.

  As Jonn mounted Windy and with a narrowed, serious gaze, he shouted to his companions, raising his lance toward the north. “Today we will fight in defense of the Eternal Village! Follow me!”