The warm hues of the setting sun bathed the village in a serene light, casting long shadows over the fields where Lucian and Marcus walked together.

  Agnes approached them from the nearby farm, carrying a basket laden with bread, fruits, and jugs of water, trailed by a group of giggling children.

  "Father," Agnes called out as she neared. "You've been out here since sunrise. It's about time you returned."

  Lucian turned, the exhaustion in his face poorly hidden. "I can't stop yet. There's still so much land left to bless."

  Agnes frowned, setting the basket down. "You'll collapse at this rate. We still have some food stores, and Sir Paladin has been bringing meat every day. There's no rush."

  "She's right," Marcus chimed in, his tone tinged with worry. "You're working harder than anyone here. Take it slow, Father. You're no good to us if you fall ill."

  Lucian glanced at them, the weight of their concern palpable, but his resolve didn't waver.

  "I'm fine," he said curtly, turning his eyes toward the horizon.

  Still no updates from the system.

  It's been two weeks since the attack, and I haven't even blessed half the required land.

  He clenched his fists behind his back, hiding the tremor of fatigue.

  If I fail, I'll run out of my Life Extension. And then…

  "Father," Agnes interrupted his thoughts, crossing her arms. "If you don't come back with us now, there'll be no potluck for you tonight."

  Lucian raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "That would be tragic. I've grown too used to your cooking, Madam Agnes. I can't go back to Marcus' water soup after tasting your stews."

  "Hey!" Marcus retorted, puffing his cheeks indignantly. "Was my cooking really that bad?"

  Lucian shrugged, a faint smirk teasing the corners of his lips.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Don't worry, Marcus," Agnes said, patting his back. "I'll teach you some of my recipes later. You'll be serving feasts in no time."

  As they packed up and began their trek back to the village, Lucian glanced toward the wooden walls rising in the distance.

  The efforts of the villagers had paid off; tall barricades now encircled most of the settlement, with only a small section remaining incomplete.

  "It seems almost done," Lucian noted, nodding toward the construction.

  "Indeed," Agnes replied, shading her eyes to look at the gate where Theo, the Paladin, approached, hauling massive logs effortlessly. "Thanks to that handsome boy over there."

  "What a pity," Agnes said with a wistful sigh. "If only I were a few decades younger."

  A loud, boisterous laugh broke through the air. Barret, the village blacksmith, approached, his muscular frame dusted with dirt and sweat. "You'll make the chief cry if he hears that, Madam Agnes."

  "Stay back, you stink!" Agnes exclaimed, wrinkling her nose and stepping away.

  Barret clutched his chest dramatically. "How cruel! You used to pamper me when I was little!"

  "That was when you were cute and tiny. Now look at you—an orc in human skin!"

  "An orc?!" Barret pointed indignantly at Theo, who had just laid the logs down by the gate. "What about him? He's buff too!"

  Agnes scoffed, waving him off. "Even calling him an elf would be rude. With that face, he's more like an angel."

  Laughter rippled through the group as they approached Theo, his calm demeanor unshaken by the teasing.

  Two young boys, Matthew and Luke, ran up to him, tugging at his cloak with wide smiles.

  "Brother!" they called out in unison, beaming at him.

  Marcus huffed, crossing his arms as he watched the scene. "Those kids! How rude—they didn't even greeted Father yet!"

  Before Lucian could respond, a smaller boy dashed toward him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

  "Father, you're back!" Dylan jumped onto Lucian, his voice muffled against his robes.

  Lucian smiled, placing a gentle hand on Dylan's head. "I'm back, little one. Let's head inside before it gets too dark."

  The two walked back toward the village, hand in hand. Behind them, were others, their laughter filling the quiet evening.

  ---

  As soon as they reached the plaza, the air immediately wafted with the smell of smoke and cooked meat. Boisterous chatter of the villagers filled the atmosphere.

  Lucian paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Let me guess," he said dryly. "Another sausage party?"

  A chuckle rose from the village chief, Gregory, who waved him over. "Wrong, Father. Sausage party was last week. Tonight, it's a smoked meat feast!"

  Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure it's wise to eat this much meat every day?"

  "Exactly! What if the animals go extinct?" Marcus added.

  "What can we do? Sir Paladin has been hunting for us an endless supply," one villager chimed in, his voice tinged with admiration.

  Lucian turned to Theo, who stood quietly at the edge of the plaza. "Sir Theo, you should stop hunting for a while. At this rate, my congregation will all turn obese."

  Matthew snickered. "Right? At this rate, Father will start to look less like a priest and more like a fat noble."

  Wha-? Young man, You have a point but that's quite-!

  Before Lucian could retort, Agnes' voice cut through the noise.

  "Gregory! I told you to stay away from the meat!"

  The chief froze mid-bite, hiding the offending skewer behind his back. "Wait, my lovely Agnes! I only took a little taste!"

  The villagers erupted into laughter, the tension of the past weeks momentarily forgotten.

  Lucian stood at the edge of the scene, watching with a rare softness in his gaze. For the first time in weeks, the plaza was alive with laughter, chatter, and joy.

  "This peace," he murmured to himself. "I wish every day could be like this."

  But as the warmth of the scene enveloped him, a shadow crept into his thoughts. The laughter and smiles blurred, replaced by memories of his past life—

  The constituents he had trusted,

  The mob that rallied against him,

  And the pain of his final moments.

  His expression hardened, the warmth draining from his face.

  Right. I can't get too attached.

  He clenched his fists behind his back, the scars of his past life surfacing once more.

  I've learned my lesson.

  Pulling himself from his thoughts, Lucian turned and walked toward the convent.

  Behind him, the villagers continued their feast, their laughter echoing into the night.