The dawn after Brant's execution was eerily quiet, but the village of Rimuru stirred with unease. Word hadn't spread of his death yet—Padrino had made sure the act was carried out in secret—but the air was thick with tension. People sensed that something had shifted, though they didn't know the full extent.
Padrino stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the villagers and Outcasts spar. Marko was overseeing the drills, his sharp eyes scanning for weaknesses in their formations. Hinata was nearby, offering words of encouragement to those struggling with their technique. Life in Rimuru carried on, but Padrino's mind was far from the routine of daily life. He could still see Brant's lifeless eyes staring up at him, accusing him in silence.
He shook the thought away. It had to be done.
The village had been spared further betrayal, but Padrino knew the price of leadership was not just in the decisions made but in the weight they carried. He had crossed a line, and there was no going back.
As he turned to leave, Garrik approached, his rough demeanor unchanged by the events of the previous night.
"It's done," Garrik said quietly, falling into step beside Padrino.
Padrino didn't respond at first, keeping his gaze straight ahead. The village had always looked to him for guidance, but the decisions that lay ahead were becoming heavier. Galdros was not the only enemy; maintaining order within Rimuru was becoming just as challenging.
"People will start asking questions," Garrik continued, his tone blunt. "You can only keep something like this quiet for so long."
Padrino sighed. "I know. But for now, we'll handle things carefully. I don't want panic spreading through the village."
Garrik grunted, clearly less concerned with discretion. "You did what needed to be done. But don't think this is the last of it."
Padrino paused, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
"The villagers don't trust us, Penduko," Garrik said, his voice low but firm. "And after last night, they'll trust us even less. You chose to bring me and my men into this, and you know as well as I do, people like Brant aren't the only ones who'll question that decision. The more blood you spill to keep order, the harder it'll be to keep this place together."
Padrino's jaw tightened, but he couldn't deny the truth in Garrik's words. The execution had been necessary, but it would have consequences. Consequences he couldn't yet fully foresee.
"Then we make sure the next move we make is stronger," Padrino said, determination hardening his voice. "We can't afford any more division. If Galdros strikes, we need every person in this village to stand united."
Garrik chuckled darkly. "Good luck with that."
Later that day, Padrino met with his council in the war room. The mood was somber, and though no one directly mentioned Brant, the tension was palpable. Hinata sat quietly, her usual warmth replaced with an unspoken worry. Marko, seated to Padrino's right, studied a map of Rimuru's defenses, his brow furrowed in concentration. Asuna and Vincent, two other key council members, exchanged uneasy glances, clearly sensing the unease hanging in the room.
"We need to focus on what comes next," Padrino said, breaking the silence. "Brant's betrayal has been dealt with, but we can't assume Galdros will stop trying to infiltrate us. Our preparations for their invasion need to be airtight."
Marko nodded, but his voice was heavy. "Our defenses are strong, but morale is low. The villagers are on edge. Even before Brant's execution, the tensions between them and the Outcasts were a problem. Now… things could get worse."
Padrino glanced at Hinata, who had been uncharacteristically silent. "What's your take on this?"
She looked up, her eyes clouded with concern. "I've been talking to the villagers. They trust you, Padrino, but they don't trust the Outcasts. They see Garrik and his men as dangerous outsiders. Some even think they were behind Brant's betrayal."
Padrino frowned. "We can't let that idea take root. Garrik has been loyal so far."
"I know," Hinata replied. "But loyalty doesn't change perception. If we don't address the fear, it could tear Rimuru apart from the inside."
Marko leaned forward, tapping the map with his finger. "We need something to rally the people. Something to remind them why we're fighting—and why we need unity, now more than ever."
Asuna, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "A public display of strength, perhaps? Something to show that Rimuru is capable of defending itself, even against Galdros."
Padrino considered the suggestion. "A show of force might help, but it could also backfire. If we push too hard, we risk scaring the villagers instead of uniting them."
"We need a symbol," Vincent chimed in, his voice thoughtful. "Something more than just military power. Something that can give people hope."
Hinata's eyes brightened slightly at the suggestion. "What if we hold a festival? Something to honor those who've fought for Rimuru, both villagers and Outcasts alike. It could serve as a way to bring everyone together."
Marko raised an eyebrow. "A festival? With an invasion on the horizon?"
"It's unconventional, but it could work," Hinata insisted. "People need to feel like they're part of something bigger than just a battle. If we show them that Rimuru is more than just a village preparing for war, that it's a community worth fighting for, it might help bridge the gap."
Padrino thought for a moment, weighing the idea. It was risky, but it had merit. Rimuru needed more than just strong defenses—it needed unity. And sometimes, that required more than swords and strategy.
"Alright," Padrino said finally. "We'll hold the festival. But it has to be more than just a celebration. We'll use it to honor the unity between the villagers and the Outcasts. If we're going to fight Galdros, we need to show that we stand as one."
Over the next few days, preparations for the festival began. The villagers, though initially skeptical, warmed to the idea as they saw the efforts being made to bring everyone together. Garrik and his men, though still regarded with suspicion, participated in the organization, helping set up the grounds and ensuring that the event would be safe.
Hinata took charge of the ceremony itself, planning a series of tributes to those who had fallen defending Rimuru. The Outcasts would be honored alongside the villagers, a gesture that Padrino hoped would begin to ease the tensions between the two groups.
As the day of the festival approached, Padrino found himself cautiously optimistic. The festival was a gamble, but it was a necessary one. He had to believe that Rimuru's people would come together, that the cracks in their unity could be healed.
But deep down, he knew that unity was fragile. The threat of Galdros still loomed, and there were whispers in the shadows—whispers that not all was as it seemed.
And as the festival drew nearer, Padrino couldn't shake the feeling that something dark was waiting to strike.