The pickaxe smashed the stone beneath it, bringing it back up, Leander brought it down once more breaking the stone clean in half. Resting the pickaxe on his shoulder, Leander crouched in order to pick up one-half of the stone. Seeing the dull colour of iron ore within the stone, he tossed both halves into the minecart beside him. This ore would be moved out of the mine with the use of the minecarts and then transported to another village where it would be smelted down into something the blacksmiths could use for their craft.
Scratching his jaw, Leander's eyes narrowed.
'How did I get roped into this…'
It had happened not long after his return to the village.
Dropping another rock on the ground, Leander raised the pickaxe above his head as his memory drifted back to a few hours earlier, to his return to the village.
----
Although undead were out and about going about their business. A suffocating aura hung over the village, a dark presence so insipid it forced them all to frown. The excitement and hope they held for Leander's victory was short-lived once the Hero had left the town.
How could they not? Any beast that dared to call itself the alpha, a pack leader, was no beast to be trifled with. If adventures from the Guild had taken up the mission to slay the alpha, five experienced adventures would have been required, but Leander was one man.
The tales of the Hero of Peace were known to everyone, the stories of one man who held back the forces of evil, keeping peace in a land on the verge of war. But even the Hero of Peace was not alone, having his own party to rely on.
How much difference could one man make?
This is why, when a lone man returned to town, water dripped from his body. His heavy steps brought attention to him. Those who had been walking along with their heads held low were forced to look up, those who had been in their homes looked out of their windows.
By the time the man had reached the town hall, a sizeable crowd had built up behind him.
Each and every one of them wanting to be able to hear his words for themselves. Would their second chance at life be lost, or could peace return to their simple lives?
Alfred stepped out of the town hall – someone having run ahead to alert him of the Hero's return. He called out to the man.
"Hello, hello! You're back."
Alfred had made a considerable effort to hide the anticipation from his voice, on his face, but Leander could see in his one good eye that Alfred had not stopped thinking about this moment since Leander had left his office.
As Leander pulled his water-logged hood down, he could feel the eyes of everyone who had been following him.
Opening his mouth, it felt dry.
"The pack leader is dead."
A moment of silence passed as everyone started at Leander as he stood still, water still dripping from his hood, each drop felt like it lasted for an eternity as everyone processed what Leander had just said.
Then the silence broke as the village erupted into roars of celebration.
----
Picking up another stone, Leander tossed it aside.
'This one has no ore.'
Not long after Leander had returned to the village and informed them of his triumph over Lewren, another zombie approached him. This one had been the man who asked him for help in the mines.
And now here Leander was, pushing a cart full of iron ore up and out of the mine back into the sunlight. Leaving it at the end of the track, Leander was about to begin moving it into the nearby cart when a voice spoke behind him.
"That won't be necessary, Hero."
As he turned, Leander squinted at a couple of undead. Two zombies nodded at Leander, passing by him they began to unload the iron ore. The one who hadn't moved – a skeleton – held his hand out to Leander with a smile – that was missing a few teeth.
"You've already spent a day breaking rocks without a break, I think we can take it from here."
Hesitating for a moment, Leander shook the man's hand – doing his best not to let the unnatural feeling of holding a skeletal hand show on his face. Nodding to those who had started moving the ore, he began to walk back to the village.
The cold evening wind brushed against Leander's skin as he looked up at the glowing sky. Leander was currently wearing different clothes than what he had entered the town with, for one simple reason. Everything he had been wearing at the start of the day was now soaked in water. Alfred had personally taken up the matter of drying his armour and clothes as Leander helped in the mines.
He had called it a small thanks for everything Leander had done for them.
As a smile was beginning to curl the corner of his lips, Leander stopped seeing somebody running towards him. It was an undead, this one seemed to be a zombie, although his skin was free of any rotting skin. Looking as if he had died of starvation.
"Hero!"
His voice desperately called out to Leander as he neared closer.
"Another beast! There- Another beast came into the town!"
Before the undead had finished speaking, Leander had passed him breaking into a full sprint. It took considerable resolve to not tap into his anima to increase his speed. Leander's mind raced with thoughts as he reached the fastest his body could go – and due to his undead physiology, Leander would be able to maintain his top speed indefinitely.
'Another beast? So soon after I killed Lewren.'
A dull throbbing pain pulsed within Leander's chest, the pain of his broken ribs causing his chest to throb with every step.
'Is it another manyfang? No, no, he said a beast, one beast. No manyfang would be foolish enough to try and attack the village again after I killed their leader. So, it's something else.'
Tightly gripping the sheath of his sword. Leander's calm demeanour broke, his anger intensifying with every second. The revenge he had sought for Ravenmother's death had only just been fulfilled, her death was because of his actions.
'I won't let any other innocents die. Let her soul be the last to leave this world. As long as my soul burns, I won't let anyone else within my reach die!'