In the quiet confines of the barrack office, Luke, Gareth, and Sir Carrick sat around a sturdy wooden table, the air filled with a sense of accomplishment. It was time to declare the City of Purewood secure and ready for the return of Mayor Kingsley. The once-chaotic city had returned to its serene origins, a testament to their hard work and dedication.
"Sir Carrick," Luke began, his voice steady and filled with satisfaction. "It seems that things have gone back to normal now. The city is safer, and your assistance is no longer required."
Sir Carrick, the epitome of gratitude, nodded.
"I cannot thank you enough, Luke. Your efforts have been invaluable." He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small pouch of coins. "Please, accept this as a token of our appreciation."
Luke glanced at the pouch, noting its weight and the substantial amount of money within. He shook his head, a modest smile playing on his lips.
"That's too much, Sir Carrick. I cannot accept it all. Let's settle on a smaller amount, one that I feel is fitting."
Sir Carrick's eyes softened with respect and admiration. The same Sir Carrick who Luke knew—a man driven by his sense of duty and protection—had returned.
"Very well," he said, placing a smaller pouch in front of Luke. "Thank you, Luke. Your humility is as commendable as your bravery."
Luke pocketed the reduced reward, feeling a sense of relief and pride. Sir Carrick continued.
"I will stay quiet about your abilities. You have my word."
Gareth, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat.
"There have been rumours circulating about you, Luke."
"Let the rumors be. They will fade with time. You will come out clean and fresh unless you make a mistake that reveals your true identity," Sir Carrick nodded.
Luke appreciated the sentiment. With the dealings done, he returned to his usual self—a traveller, now back working with Eamon on cleaning duty, and still staying under the care of the cathedral. His life had resumed its quiet rhythm, but the recent events had left an indelible mark.
Eamon, the old man and co-worker in cleaning, curious as ever, questioned Luke about his involvement in the purge.
"Why were you so involved, Luke?"
"I had some useful knowledge. They needed my help," Luke lied.
It pained him to deceive a friend, but it was necessary to protect his secret.
Father Wingate and Sister Maria had similar inquiries, to which Luke repeated the same lie. Each time he lied, he felt a pang of guilt. He hated deceiving those who had taken him in and cared for him. But he knew that revealing his true identity would lead to unwanted attention and complications.
As he scrubbed the cathedral floors alongside Eamon, Luke's mind wandered to the events of the past weeks. He had seen the best and worst of Purewood, and in many ways, it had changed him. He was more aware of the responsibilities that came with his abilities and the importance of maintaining his anonymity.
"You did good, Luke. Whatever knowledge you shared, it helped save our city," Eamon, sensing Luke's distraction, nudged him playfully.
"Thanks, Eamon. Let's just hope we don't have to go through something like this again," Luke smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.
As the days passed, the rumours about Luke began to die down, just as Sir Carrick had predicted. Luke maintained his low profile, blending back into the routine of the cathedral and the city. He knew that his true challenge was not just in protecting Purewood but in protecting his identity and the promise he made to those he cared about.
One morning, as Luke and the old man Eamon worked together cleaning the barrack equipment, Luke noticed some of the knights beginning to dress in their proper attire. Among them were Gareth and Sir Carrick, both looking more polished than usual.
"What's happening?" Luke asked, a hint of concern in his voice. "Is it another surge of monsters?"
Gareth chuckled, shaking his head.
"No, Luke. It's Mayor Kingsley. He's returning today."
Relieved, Luke decided to take a look outside the barracks. From the main gate to the castle, the streets were lined with people. Children and the elderly alike eagerly awaited the return of their beloved mayor. The sight reminded Luke of celebrations in his world, like Independence Day, where people would line up to watch performances and parades. It was clear that Mayor Kingsley was someone they all trusted and looked up to.
Just then, Eamon came close to Luke, a warm smile on his face.
"If you want to leave early today, it's fine. The equipment we received is not much, thanks to the decreased monster numbers. You should enjoy the celebration."
"It's my duty to work, even if it's just cleaning," Luke hesitated.
"Luke, you should enjoy the celebration. After all, it's your effort that allowed this to happen. Without your help, the city might have been overrun by monsters, leaving nothing but fear and destruction," Eamon insisted, his eyes twinkling with pride.
Taking Eamon's suggestion to heart, Luke joined the fray of people, lining up among them to watch the return of Mayor Kingsley. As he stood there, he could feel the excitement and anticipation in the air. The city had come alive with joy and hope.
The gates opened, and a cheer rose from the crowd. Mayor Kingsley, along with his wife and daughter, rode in on a grand carriage, escorted by a couple of knights. The mayor waved to the people, his face beaming with pride and happiness. The citizens of Purewood responded with applause and cheers, their faces lit up with admiration and affection.
As the procession moved forward, Luke could see the genuine bond between the mayor and his people. It was clear that Mayor Kingsley was not just a leader but a symbol of hope and resilience for the city. The joy on the faces of the children, the relief in the eyes of the elderly, and the pride in the hearts of the knights all painted a picture of a community united.
Luke found himself caught up in the moment, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. For a brief moment, he felt a part of something larger than himself, a feeling of belonging and purpose. The city's gratitude was palpable, and it warmed Luke's heart to know that he had played a part in bringing this happiness back to Purewood.
As the procession passed, Mayor Kingsley caught sight of Luke and gave him a nod of appreciation. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to Luke. It was a silent acknowledgement of his contributions, a recognition of the sacrifices he had made to keep the city safe.
Luke watched as the carriage made its way to the castle, the crowd following along, still cheering and celebrating. He felt a sense of peace and fulfilment wash over him. For now, the city was safe, and its people were happy. It was a moment to cherish, a reminder of why he fought and why he would continue to fight.
Eamon's words echoed in his mind, and he smiled. He had done his part, and now it was time to enjoy the fruits of their labour. As he mingled with the crowd, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and determination. The road ahead would be challenging, but for today, Purewood was a place of joy and celebration, thanks in no small part to him.
Miles away, in a fortress shrouded in mist and shadow. In a dimly lit throne room, a man kneeled, trembling in fear. His head was bowed low, his voice barely a whisper as he reported the failure of the monster attacks on Purewood.
From the shadows, a voice boomed, echoing with fury and menace.
"How dare you fail me!" the voice growled. "Those monsters were supposed to bring Purewood to its knees!"
The kneeling man flinched, his fear palpable.
"I... I am sorry, Your Majesty. Our intel suggests how the city got outside help."
The throne room fell silent, the tension thick and oppressive. Then, another voice broke the silence. It was calm, almost amused, yet laced with a sinister edge.
"Now, now, Your Majesty, let us not be too hasty," the owner of the voice stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with malevolence. "We still have a trump card."
Before anyone could react, the man who had been kneeling had his head swiftly and brutally chopped off. His body slumped to the ground, blood spraying from his severed neck. The sinister man approached the corpse, his expression one of dark delight. He pulled out a knife and dug into the corpse's chest, extracting the still-warm heart.
"Behold, Your Majesty," he said, holding the heart aloft. "This is the key."
He began to mutter incantations, his voice dripping with malice.
"Maledictum Bestia," he intoned, his words dark and foreboding. He then licked the heart, revealing words in English etched upon it: "Monster Attract."
As he spoke, the heart, which had stopped beating, began to throb with life once more. A sinister energy radiated from it, filling the throne room with an eerie glow.
Deep within the Unknown, an Aerdeich, a massive and ancient beast, stirred from its slumber. Its eyes, glowing with a malevolent intelligence, fixed on the heart that had begun to beat once more. Drawn by the dark magic, the Aerdeich felt an irresistible pull towards the source of the heart's power.
In the fortress, the sinister man grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Soon, Purewood will fall," he whispered, his voice filled with dark promise. "And all will tremble before our power. Even the self-proclaimed greatest nation, Empire of Virencia."