While the others were busy setting up tents for today and packing their things, Chayil was trailing Naisha wherever she went.
Whether she was helping with the tents, preparing food, or gathering dry firewood, Chayil was always there, assisting with a smile that clearly said he just wanted to be near her.
"Hey, why are you following me around?" Her brows furrowed in curiosity.
"Me? I'm just helping out," Chayil replied, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed his true intentions.
As Naisha busied herself gathering dry firewood, Chayil trailed behind her like a shadow. After a moment, he spoke up, his tone curious but playful.
"By the way, is it true that you ran back just to save me?" he asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Naisha rolled her eyes. "Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't do it for you. I did it for Mother Venice and the villagers. I knew she didn't want to hurt you, and I couldn't stand by and let things fall apart just because God told her to." She turned and resumed her task without waiting for a response.
For Naisha, gods are unnecessary. If there is truly a God, Verdants should have not suffered for thousands of years. She just loves Mother Venice, even though she was too religious with her god.
"Okay," Chayil muttered, his lips forming a small pout before quickly recovering. "By the way, any updates on your brother?"
Naisha stopped briefly, letting out a heavy sigh. "No. There's still no sign of Ran. No tracks, no clues, nothing," she said, clutching a small wooden toy she had given them.
She explained how she had searched tirelessly all night, even returning where she'd found the toy. But the ground there bore no footprints or signs of Ran.
"But I believe he's fine," she added, her voice firm with conviction. "Ran is brave—far braver than most. He doesn't give up, no matter what."
Unlike Ken, who would always cry when he was scared, Ran was the complete opposite. Whatever terrified Ken, Ran faced it head-on with unwavering courage.
"Don't worry, we'll find my brother-in-law alive and kicking. I promise." Chayil said.
Naisha smirked, shaking her head. "Fine, fine. Thanks, anyway," she said, shrugging off his promise as if it were no big deal.
They returned to camp and helped set up Mother Venice's large tent. Once everything was in place, everyone rested and ate.
***
At midnight some men of the villagers gathered around the tent of Mother Venice. The atmosphere was tense as everyone sat cross-legged on the ground, their eyes fixed on Chayil.
'What am I doing here? How do I even start this?' Chayil thought, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes. He sighed deeply and cleared his throat.
"First of all, I'm not great at motivational speeches," he began. "The burden of change lies with you. If you want to change your lives as Verdants, you have to fight for it yourselves."
The villagers murmured among themselves, their expressions a mix of doubt and determination.
"To all the men and women here, once we settle our place, we'll start training. You'll build your stamina and learn how to fight. I'll teach you how to win battles, no matter what. But don't think of yourselves as knights. You're not knights. You're rebels—fighters who want to live and change your fate. I'll teach you everything I know… everything it takes to win!"
As he finished, a devilish grin spread across his face, sending a chill of excitement and fear through the crowd.
After the meeting, everyone left, Naisha approached Chayil, her expression serious.
"What's your plan for fighting the slave hunters?" she asked bluntly.
"Plan?" Chayil said, raising an eyebrow before he smirked as if he had a genius plan up his sleeve. But his statement declared otherwise.
"I don't have one."
Naisha rolled her eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Then how are we supposed to win without a plan?"
"Planning gives me a headache," Chayil replied nonchalantly. "Most of the time, plans don't go as expected. Either some parts change because they do not follow, or the enemy counters your move. In the end, all you get is stress."
"Then how do you expect to lead these villagers?" Naisha demanded, her tone sharp.
"Lead them? I never said I'd lead. I'm just here to help them no matter what," Chayil said, flashing a mischievous grin. Then his tone shifted to a teasing one. "By the way, love, where's my prize?"
"Okay. That's up to you. I will trust that we'll win as you said," she said as she tried to calm herself. She stood up and walked toward the door.
She knew she just forced him to help them since she saw he was capable of fighting with the other I.D.s.
"Ahm, my… prize?" he tried to ask again.
But Naisha just continued on walking as if she didn't hear him.
"Grrr," she muttered under her breath when she was already outside the tent. "I think I must have made a mistake trusting him to lead."
Moments later, Mother Venice entered the tent, carrying a metal pipe in both hands. She approached Chayil and held it out to him.
"Is this what you were looking for?" she asked.
Chayil's eyes lit up as he recognized the pipe. He took it eagerly, inspecting it closely.
"Yes, this is it. I don't know why, but I feel attached to this thing," he admitted. "It didn't even dent or bend during my fight with that mad leader."
As he examined the pipe, he noticed faint grooves etched into its surface—straight thin lines running from top to bottom. They were shallow and barely noticeable at first glance, but they were clearly visible upon closer inspection.
"That's no ordinary pipe," Mother Venice said, her tone grave.
Chayil looked up, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
"It's Morphos," she explained. "This weapon has been passed down through ten generations of our ancestors. It's been protected and revered as a sacred artifact. According to history, Morphos isn't just a pipe. It's an ancient weapon with untapped potential. Yet, in all these years, no one has ever been able to unlock its true power."
"No one knows who forged it or what material it's made from. It has remained a mystery for nearly a thousand years," she continued.
"Sorry. I didn't realize it was so important to you," Chayil said, handing the Morphos back to her.
Mother Venice shook her head. "No, I was planning to give it to you anyway. I believe it belongs to you now. You're the one who might finally uncover its secrets."
She placed the pipe back in Chayil's hands. "When I saw you take Morphos before the fight, I knew. I knew you were the answer we've been waiting for."
Chayil scratched his head, muttering, 'I only grabbed it because it looked like the only weapon around.'
Mother Venice's expression grew somber. "I owe you an apology for trying to kill you."
"Don't worry, Madam," Chayil said, brushing it off with a wave. "It's not your fault. Maybe you misunderstood your god's instructions." Then, with a smirk, he muttered, 'Or maybe that old man just set me up to say yes to all this.'