Leon finally reached the griffin, sweat beading on his forehead. He arrived just in time to defuse the tense situation. The griffin, still bristling, was clearly ready to defend its friend, but Leon stepped in quickly.
"Easy now, calm down," he murmured, raising his hands in a soothing gesture. He gently stroked the great beast's neck, smoothing down its ruffled feathers. "These people aren't our enemies."
The griffin blinked at him, its powerful chest still heaving from the earlier excitement, but it relaxed under Leon's familiar touch.
Suddenly, a high-pitched voice broke through the tension. "Big brother! Big brother!"
Leon turned toward the sound and saw a little girl sitting on the horse of an old, armored nobleman, waving frantically in his direction. He squinted, taking a closer look.
It was Lina, the brown-haired girl they had rescued from the mercenary thugs by the windmill just the day before. She was still wearing the oversized coat and trousers Leon and his companions had given her when they were in disguise, making her easy to recognize.
"Lord Trosa, that's one of the three brothers who saved me yesterday!" Lina called excitedly, pointing toward Leon.
Trosa, the noble, looked from the girl to Leon and the griffin with a knowing expression. "Ah, I see. That explains the fate of Kantadar's defeated soldiers," he mused, observing the clear bond between the young man and the majestic creature.
The old count, seeing Lina's impatience to reunite with her rescuer, gently lifted her from the saddle, placing her back on the ground. As soon as her feet touched the earth, Lina took off toward Leon, her small legs pumping with excitement.
But when she reached the middle of the road, her eyes widened at the sight of the towering griffin. Fear slowed her steps, and she hesitated, unable to bring herself any closer to the massive creature.
Noticing her fear, Leon turned and gave the griffin a reassuring pat. "Go on, take a rest, my friend. I'm fine now. If anything happens, I know you'll be there to save me."
The griffin seemed to understand. With a gentle shake of its head and a soft cry, it spread its wings, launching itself into the sky. It circled gracefully above the group, keeping a watchful eye from the air.
With the immediate danger gone, Leon turned and walked toward Lina, his face softening as she ran up to him.
"Big brother, I'm so glad you're okay!" Lina exclaimed, her voice tinged with relief. She quickly wiped away the traces of tears from her cheeks. "What about the other two brothers? Was Sister Olivia rescued too?"
Leon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We're all safe, Lina. But… many people in the village didn't make it." His gaze briefly flickered to the rows of bodies wrapped in linen, strewn across the square. He didn't know if any of her family was among the dead, but given the horrors of the day before, when she had been abducted to the windmill, he feared the worst.
"But you," Leon said, placing a hand gently on her head and ruffling her hair, "you did an amazing job. You brought help, Lina. You really did."
At first, when Lina had mentioned going to find help, Leon hadn't thought much of it. He didn't expect a child to manage such a feat. Yet here she was, standing next to knights—actual reinforcements. He gave her a proud smile, knowing full well that her bravery had made a difference.
"No, these aren't the lord's troops," Lina said, shaking her head quickly. "I found these knights on the road last night. I was lucky; they're good people. When I told them what happened, Grandpa Trosa didn't hesitate. He brought me back here right away."
Leon blinked, looking at the formidable line of knights behind her, their banners fluttering in the wind, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. The sheer size of the force and their grand appearance left him speechless for a moment. These weren't mere village soldiers. This was a well-trained army, dressed in fine robes and bearing noble emblems.
"Not the lord's army?" Leon repeated, shock creeping into his voice. His eyes darted to the impressive formation, realizing that he had underestimated the situation.
Leon's gaze was drawn to the knight in the lead, who wielded a massive axe that gleamed ominously in the sunlight. He squinted, trying to make sense of the faint light shimmering on the blade. "What kind of advanced weaponry is that?" he wondered. If these heavy-armored knights were indeed the real deal, he started to doubt whether even his griffin friends could stand a chance against such a powerful force.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Leon reminded himself that, thankfully, they were not enemies. He took Lina's hand and approached the knights, stopping a respectful distance away.
Drawing from the memories of the original owner of his body, Leon recalled the proper etiquette for addressing nobility as a commoner in the Kingdom of Serrian. He placed his left hand on his chest and bowed deeply to the armored knights before him. "My name is Leon. It's an honor to meet you all," he said earnestly.
"Please forgive us for the state of our village. We've just suffered a disaster and are unable to properly entertain you. However, the surviving villagers have done their best to clean up the horse tying grounds and resting areas."
He felt a wave of relief wash over him, glad that he hadn't landed in a world as strict as the medieval dark age, where hierarchy dictated every interaction. According to his memories, in the culture of the Feru people, commoners weren't expected to kneel and kowtow to nobles unless they were criminals or prisoners.
Instead, in informal settings, a respectful bow sufficed; enough to show deference without seeming overly subservient. The depth of the bow indicated social status; the lower the bow, the more respect it conveyed, but it couldn't exceed ninety degrees, as that would appear foolish or offensive.
As he stood before the knights, their expressions remained neutral, and they didn't offer their lord's name in return. After all, a powerful noble from the Kingdom of Orland had no obligation to acknowledge a commoner.
Trosa, the old count, sat upright on his horse, observing Leon with interest. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the armor Leon wore. "That belonged to the enemy we've been pursuing," Trosa noted, recalling the pile of corpses he had seen outside the village. "You were with Baron's men."
"It's true, sir," Leon replied, keeping his head bowed respectfully. "But those Kantadars have been dealt with. My companions and I managed to escape their grasp, and by the grace of the gods, we were able to save the villagers."
Trosa's interest deepened. "So, it was you who defeated the Kantadars that attacked this village? You saved these people?" He leaned forward, clearly intrigued by Leon's story.
"Yes, sir," Leon confirmed, lifting his gaze slightly to meet Trosa's. "We fought hard to protect the villagers. But it came at a great cost. Many lives were lost during the attack."
Lina, standing beside Leon, looked up at him with wide eyes, clearly impressed. "He's telling the truth! They fought bravely!" she chimed in, her youthful enthusiasm adding weight to Leon's words.
Trosa regarded both of them with a mix of respect and curiosity. "Your bravery is commendable, young man. I believe we can assist you and the surviving villagers. But first, tell me more about what happened here."
Leon nodded, feeling a sense of relief. Perhaps, with the help of these knights, they could start to rebuild the village and honor those who had fallen.
"I'm ashamed we couldn't save all the villagers," Leon admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "We only intended to rescue our friends, but in the chaos, most of the enemies fell to my griffin companions. Only a few were taken down by our hands."
He spoke the truth; aside from the noble leader Olivia had slain, they had managed to surprise and dispatch three cavalrymen. He had even crushed the skull of one Kantadar knight himself. But in this shared existence, those victories felt less like personal triumphs and more like shared burdens.
"Raise your head, child," Trosa said, his voice firm yet gentle. He leaned slightly forward, scrutinizing Leon with a blend of curiosity and respect. "You may not be a knight of Orland, but you embody the spirit of one. If your words ring true, I want to thank you for your bravery and righteousness on behalf of the villagers you saved."
Leon felt a swell of humility. "I don't deserve your praise, sir," he replied, straightening up at Trosa's encouragement. The old nobleman was cultured and dignified, yet devoid of arrogance. This made the conversation feel far less intimidating.
It struck Leon that the people of Orland seemed far more civilized than the Kantadars, displaying a quality that rivaled even the people of Serrian. If Trosa was as open-minded as he appeared, it was no wonder he treated a village girl with such care, allowing her to ride with him and looking after her well-being.
"Please, take me to see the surviving villagers. I am very interested in your experiences," Trosa said, gesturing for Leon to lead the way.
"It would be my honor, sir. Please follow me," Leon replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he turned to guide the imposing knightly procession toward the village elder's house.
In the village, the elder's home stood out as the only spacious building, making it a prime choice for the Kantadar nobles during their stay. But now, with Trosa's knights vastly outnumbering the remnants of the enemy, the house seemed inadequate for so many guests.
Fortunately, not all the knights entered the village; some remained outside to guard the perimeter, while others set up a protective formation around the center. The knights and their servants checked the buildings for safety, ensuring everything was secure.
Once Trosa entered the elder's house, he found that the place had already been tidied up by the women and children who had received prior instructions. As soon as he settled into a chair in the hall, he called for the village leader and instructed his servants to gather a few villagers for questioning.
Trosa was prudent; he knew better than to take the word of a foreign boy and a child at face value. He needed to verify the situation through the accounts of more villagers.
After a short wait outside with the noble guards, Leon spotted old blacksmith Brian, the blacksmith, limping toward him with a cane. Brian nodded in acknowledgment, a gesture as natural as if they were old friends meeting on the street. The blacksmith then entered the hall, ready to provide his testimony.
Brian made his way through the hall, past the imposing ranks of armored knights, their polished armor gleaming under the dim light. His steps were measured, his posture respectful. When he reached the center of the room, he bowed deeply before General Trosa, who sat in the main chair, exuding authority.
"I am Brian, a humble blacksmith," Brian greeted, his voice carrying the nervous tone of a simple villager addressing powerful nobles. "I am honored to meet you, my lords."
Trosa, watching the strong yet weathered man with an appraising eye, nodded slightly. "Are you the one now in charge of this village?" he asked, his voice low but commanding.
"Yes, sir," Brian replied, straightening up slightly. "I am the blacksmith here. Our village official and the able-bodied men left to join the lord's army some time ago. Unfortunately, the village elder was killed during the Kantadar attack, along with the other elders who held any authority. Now, there are only a few men and children left. The rest of the survivors are women and girls."
Trosa absorbed the information, his sharp gaze never leaving Brian's face. "Tell me what happened during the attack," he said, gesturing for the blacksmith to continue.
Brian's expression darkened as he recalled the horror of the dawn raid. "The Kantadars struck at first light," he began. He described the suddenness of the attack, how the village was caught off guard, and how the raiders mercilessly killed the villagers. But, unlike Lina's brief account, Brian added more detail about the three foreign boys who had helped turn the tide. He expressed gratitude toward Leon and his companions for their bravery, though he made sure to emphasize that it was their griffin companions who had done the most damage to the enemy.
Several other villagers were brought in to give their accounts as well. Their stories were similar; filled with grief and despair as they described the atrocities they had endured. Many of them spoke in hushed, awestruck tones about the griffins, describing how the beasts had torn through the Kantadar soldiers, delivering vengeance on behalf of the village.
With each testimony, Trosa slowly pieced together the full picture. He sat back, stroking his beard thoughtfully. His earlier doubts about the story began to fade as he reflected on the accounts. "They've been through hell, escaping the hands of the Kantadars, coming to a foreign land, and still finding it within themselves to help those in need," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
He recalled his first impression of Leon; young, armored, carrying a sword with the demeanor of a knight. The boy's courage and sense of duty stirred something in Trosa. This was no ordinary young man. He had faced the cruelty of the world and come out stronger. Trosa's thoughts shifted, considering whether Leon and his companions could be trained, molded into something more.
Beside him, the great knight Kevin spoke up. "Sir, there's something I find curious; how did this boy come to have a griffin as a companion? I've never heard of griffins in the Gray Fir Valley."
Trosa nodded, his curiosity piqued as well. "Good question. And where are the other two companions? Bring them all here. I want to hear their stories; how they came to Orland, and what they've faced along the way."
He waved his hand, signaling his servants to summon the foreign boys for questioning. Though he had not been able to personally defeat the Kantadars who had fled, recruiting these brave young men could be an unexpected boon.
Just as the servant turned to leave, a knight burst into the hall, his face flushed with urgency. He quickly removed his helmet and bowed.
"General," the knight said, his voice steady but tense, "the patrol scout reports a troop approaching the village. He saw the flag of the Thorn Flowers. It appears to be the army of the Farolis family."
Trosa's eyes hardened as he sat up straighter, immediately shifting into command mode. The situation had just become more complicated.
Trosa raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Oh? Lord Elifer reacts quickly."
He knew well that Baron Elifer was the lord of this region; after all, he was part of Trosa's own command during the southern expedition. What astonished him was how swiftly Elifer had responded.
The Farolis family's forces, having faced heavy losses in the battle at Mamor County, had returned home for repairs. They shouldn't have been aware that the remnants of the Kantadar army had slipped into Kossos County just yesterday.
Trosa had been in pursuit of Doson's remnants ever since the battle, and had it not been for his chance encounter with a girl named Lina the previous night, he would have been heading straight for Elifer's castle. Finding a local lord to guide him in searching for Doson's whereabouts would have been far more convenient. Yet here they were; just a day after the chaos struck Selva, and Elifer had already sent troops to investigate.
"Everyone, let's go out to welcome Lord Elifer," Trosa commanded, turning to his men. "While the turmoil here isn't directly our doing, it was still the enemies we pursued who caused this mess in his village. I feel a responsibility to address it."
As they prepared to greet the baron, a figure on horseback emerged from the ridge. Baron Elifer, clad in black armor, raised his visor, squinting at the green flag emblazoned with a deer head flying outside the village of Selva. "General's flag? Isn't that the Kantadar emblem?" he wondered aloud, confusion evident on his face.
Around the village, the soldiers of various knight families patrolled, their robes a kaleidoscope of colors and sigils. The knights of the Farolis family, initially readying themselves to confront a Kantadar incursion, were now left bewildered by the scene before them.
Suddenly, a knight adorned with the deer head emblem galloped out from the village, swiftly approaching Elifer's troops. "Sir Farolis!" he called, removing his helmet to reveal a friendly smile. "It's been too long since we last met on the battlefield. How fare you?"
"Thank you for your concern, Lord Adilion," Elifer replied, nudging his horse closer. "Is the general with you?"
"He's waiting for you in the village," Adilion confirmed with a nod. "We just arrived."
Elifer furrowed his brow. "Forgive me for my confusion, but I've just heard troubling news. The villagers spoke of three foreign spies leading a band of Kantadar cavalry in an attack. Have you dealt with those enemies?"
Adilion's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? Three spies?" He exchanged glances with Baron Trosa. "The villagers didn't mention spies. They spoke of three young rangers and a griffin. By the time we arrived, the Kantadars had already been dealt with. Baron was thoroughly dispatched, and we merely gathered up his remains!"
A sense of relief washed over Trosa. The brave actions of Leon and his companions had prevented further bloodshed. Elifer, still processing this unexpected twist, nodded thoughtfully. "It seems we owe them our gratitude. Let's head to the village and hear the full story."