As the sun was about to set, the villagers set up their tents. They planned on staying for the night in the meantime before settling out tomorrow.
They also packed their things so it would be quicker for them to move at once.
As they did so, Draven trailed Naisha wherever she went.
Whether she was helping with the tents, preparing food, or gathering dry firewood, Draven was always there, assisting her with a wide smile.
"Hey, why are you following me around?" Naisha's brows furrowed in curiosity.
"Me? I'm just helping out," Draven replied, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his true intentions.
He just wants to be with her.
As Naisha busied herself gathering dry firewood, Draven 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 again 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 not have suffered for thousands of years.
She just loves Mother Venice, even though she is too religious with her god.
"You're right. Don't believe in that cunning god," Draven said. "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 clutched a small wooden toy she had given them.
Naisha explained how she had searched tirelessly all night, only to find the toy on the ground that she gave him.
Still, there were 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," Draven said.
Naisha smirked, shaking her head.
"Fine, fine. Thanks, anyway," she said, shrugging off his promise as if it was 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 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 and waiting on Draven to give them a word.
'What am I doing here? How do I even start this?' Draven thought, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes. 'Maybe I should just discourage them.'
He sighed deeply and cleared his throat.
"First, I'm not here to encourage you or pat your head every time you are discouraged."
"Second, Im not your Chosen One or the hero that you are thinking that will save your asses from them."
"Third, why am I here then?" He paused and continued. "I am just here to teach you how you're gonna prove yourselves to them."
"And lastly, you guys are all dead meat to the other I.D.s. What you're trying to achieve is nearly impossible. In fact, many of you might die. And in the worst-case scenario, all of you could end up dead."
"You still wanna do it?" Draven looked at each one of them.
Their faces were filled with fear and defeat.
He let out a sigh and rubbed his temples before a smirk appeared in his face, feeling successful in his plan.
"You got intimidated with words alone? You're already defeated even before you start. And you're expecting to win? Ok, lets just stop this."
Draven stood up, with a triumphant smile on his face.
But someone spoke up. It was Gil, the bowman.
"Wait! I still want to fight! Even if I'll die, at least I can say to our future children that I tried my best to fight for their freedom."
"Even though you know that your efforts will just be in vain?" Draven asked in disbelief.
"Yes!" The bowman answered, with full determination in his eyes. "This is our only chance. This is the time that we've been waiting for to stand up for our families and stop these miserable lives!"
Little by little, the expression on each of their faces became determined, and one by one, they began to speak.
"Please teach us to fight!"
"Please teach us to fight."
"Please teach us!"
'Really? They still want it after everything I said?' Draven muttered, failing to stop what they wanted to do.
Draven shook his head, stressed.
'Ok, ok. This is the last time I'm gonna do you a favor, old man, After this, I will do what I want.'
Then Draven shared his piece of advice.
"If you really wanna win, forget about honor. Forget about pride. And definitely, forget about fighting fair. Fair fights are for idiots who don't mind losing. You're Verdants. Fight like your life depends on it. Because it does. You fight smart. And if you can't fight? Then you learn fast and do everything to win!"
"Yes, let's do that! We are the Verdants!" Gil lifted his fist in the air.
"For our freedom!" Another shouted.
Everyone lifted their voice in excitement and determination.
After the meeting, everyone left.
Naisha approached Draven, her expression serious.
"What's your plan for fighting the slave hunters?"She asked bluntly.
"Gather all the Verdants."
"What's the next plan after that?"
"Plan?" Draven 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," Draven replied nonchalantly. "Most of the time, plans don't go as expected. Either some parts change because they did not happen. 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 win no matter what," Draven shrugged.
"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.
Naisha 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 asked as she promised before.
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 hope I didn't make a mistake of leaving the Verdants to him."
Moments later, Mother Venice entered the tent, carrying a metal pipe. She approached Draven and held it out to him.
"I heard you're looking for this?"She asked.
Draven'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 leader."
As he examined the pipe, he noticed faint grooves etched into its surface.
Straight, thin lines were 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.
Draven 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," Draven 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 Draven's hands.
"When I saw you take Morphos before the fight, I knew. I knew you were the answer we've been waiting for."
'Yet, you tried to kill me,' he taunted in his thoughts. "Nah, I'm not sure about that," he replied instead.
Mother Venice's expression grew somber. "I owe you an apology for trying to kill you."
"Don't worry, Madam," Draven said, brushing it off with a wave. "I know it's not your fault."
Then, with a smirk, he muttered. "He just tricked you."
"What?" Mother Venice repeated.
"Nah, it's nothing." Draven smiled.
After Mother Venice left and everyone was resting in their tents, Draven thought about his conversation with Mr. Goodness.
"I wonder what he meant when he said he added something to my skills."
STATUS!