The chants of gratitude continued as Dragun kept waving with a smile on his face.
He cleared his throat, applied a voice-amplifying spell on his throat, and spoke with a loud voice, "Thank you for showing appreciation, unlike your talkative soldiers."
His words invoked a little bit of hatred from the soldiers behind him, but none of them were bold enough to speak against him—not after seeing his supernatural powers.
"The true hero of this victory is none other than my son, Rowan. If he hadn't sent me here, it would have been a different story," Dragun announced with pride in his voice.
"Lord Rowan? His son? How is that possible?"
"Wait, if Lord Rowan is his son, then he is Dragun Winterseed!"
"How can this be? Dragun Winterseed is no more!"
"Were the people of Winterseed telling lies all this while to hide the powers of their former lord?"
"This doesn't make sense!"
The people were confused, but they didn't speak about Dragun with disrespect like the soldiers, and Dragun appreciated their respect for his name.
"I am Dragun Winterseed in the flesh, not a ghost!" he announced.
"The rumors of my death were nothing but misinformation following my long absence from my people," he continued.
He made sure to convince everyone that he was real before relaxing.
The people were convinced by his words, and they thanked Rowan for sending him here to save them.
This made them believe that their lord was truly a man who cared for them.
Some of the villagers didn't even bother to ask how Rowan knew about their predicament. If his father could possess such extraordinary powers to defeat hordes of powerful monsters, then Lord Rowan himself must possess other special powers.
Ren felt greatly relieved seeing how Dragun handled everything.
After Dragun's speech, the villagers began to retire to their homes one after the other to rest for the night. They were pretty exhausted after all the mental and physical torment they had gone through in the last few hours.
Some of them, on their way home, met with Dragun and thanked him personally for saving them.
"When I grow up, I want to become like you, Uncle Dragun," one child said.
"Same with me! How do I grow strong to be like you?" another asked.
A group of children approached Dragun, excitement evident in their innocent faces.
"You have to eat lots of vegetables and respect your elders to become like me when you grow up," Dragun said, patting their heads and lying to them.
"Really?" they asked in unison.
"Yes, respecting your elders makes you really strong like me as you grow into adults," Dragun lied even more.
The children thanked him for his advice and left with so much determination to eat as many bitter and tasteless vegetables as they could in order to be like him.
Dragun watched the children running away playfully, and his mind quickly recalled a similar scene of Rowan running away to swing sticks after he told him doing that would help him become a strong warrior.
Dragun sighed sadly; he hadn't spent enough time with his son, and now his son hated him to the core.
After Ren finished applying herbal ointment on the last wounded villager, he hung his bag on his shoulder and approached Dragun to thank him personally.
"Thank you for coming to our aid," Ren said, stretching his hand out to shake his.
Dragun shook his hand and laughed heartily. "No need to thank me."
"By the way, I will be needing a place to stay for a few days. I have exhausted my mana reserve and won't be able to return to Winterseed," Dragun requested.
"That is not a problem," Ren smiled.
He called three young soldiers and instructed them to go clean the lord's quarters for Dragun to stay.
While they were away, the soldiers who stayed around approached Dragun and began to apologize.
Dragun wasn't really bothered about how they had treated him earlier; he had already forgiven them even before they asked. But he took the opportunity to request their assistance for a task.
"You want us to help you harvest organs from the monsters you killed?" one of them asked, a look of confusion plastered on his face.
"Yes, I will instruct you what to do in the morning," Dragun nodded.
"What are you going to do with the organs we harvest? Is that what ghosts eat?" one of the talkative ones—the same one who tried to start a fight earlier—asked.
Dragun's smile disappeared as he gave the soldier a look of disappointment.
"Just do what I asked," he replied and walked away from the ground.
The other soldiers looked at the talkative one with disappointment as well; they were pretty fed up with his tendency to seek trouble with everyone, even those stronger than him.
The talkative soldier looked at his colleagues with a straight face and left when no one spoke with him.
The other soldiers retired to their homes after discussing with each other for a few seconds.
Meanwhile, not very far away, the same two mysterious men observed everything.
The moonlight shone on their figures, highlighting their faces. Both had tall, imposing statures and youthful appearances, seeming to be around the age of 25 to 30.
One of them had long white hair tied in a ponytail and hazel eyes that keenly observed everything; he also wore a calm expression that added to his mystery.
The other had short white hair and blue eyes that shone with anger and hatred. He looked younger compared to the long-haired one.
"Alister, why did you say we should let him be? He knows so much secret information about us and even has something of ours in his possession," the short-haired one gritted his teeth and let out with extreme anger.
Alister kept calm and kept staring ahead, ignoring the protest of his brother.
"Answer me, Alister!" he demanded once again.
"I already made my decision, Xandros," Alister replied without even looking at Xandros.
"But.." Xandros tried to protest once again but Alister placed his finger on his lip to shush him up.
"We report everything to the syndicate, excluding Dragun." Alister let out.
Xandros only gritted his teeth, it was easy to spot his hatred for Dragun.