It was a bright morning, and the sun hung in the sky as usual, blessing the village with its brilliant glow.
Nevertheless, even though the sun bestowed its radiant glow upon the village, it did nothing to dispel the gloomy darkness that had overtaken the village.
Despite it being only about two hours after daybreak, the people of Winterseed remained indoors, and not a single soul could be seen on the street that would normally be bustling during these hours.
The farmers remained at home.
The tailors were too frightened to return to the tailor house and were still deeply shaken by the abductions of Riela.
The soldiers, along with every other member of the village, could not yet believe that their beloved Lord was gone!
Their only hope, the man blessed by their ancestors who had not brought back life and joy to the village but had been working really hard every single day to facilitate growth, had been taken away.
It was like a nightmare – their greatest nightmare.
With his departure, who would elevate their village to greater heights and who would be strong enough to defend it against powerful threats?
Inside one of the huts, a soldier who had fought alongside Rowan in the dark forest stood by his window, gazing outside in the hope of seeing Rowan miraculously appear and proclaim that it was all a cruel joke.
Beside him, his children wept bitterly, overcome with fear and sadness, while their mother tried her best to console them, fighting back her own tears.
"Lord Rowan! Please come back!" the soldier cried, his voice thick with emotion.
At a nearby hut, Winston could be seen staring at the sword Rowan had given to him, as he gazed upon the sleek blade, he began to recall every moment with Rowan, remembering all his advice, words of encouragement, and promises to help him grow stronger.
He also remembered the moment when Rowan had stepped forward to protect them.
He recalled the vivid scenes of Rowan battling fearsome monsters and confronting daunting challenges to ensure their survival.
As these memories flooded back, his eyes reddened with sorrow and regret.
"If only I had been strong enough, I would have protected Lord Rowan. Why am I so useless? Why does heaven despise me so much? First my parents, then my only brother, and now Lord Rowan?" Winston clenched his fist as he lamented.
Although Winston was merely a soldier, his bond with Rowan ran deep, almost like that of brothers, consequently, the event shook him more profoundly than it did his fellow soldiers, and the sorrow he experienced in that moment was comparable to the pain of losing his own family.
Indeed, not only Winston but every other soldier, including the captains, regarded Rowan as more than merely a leader – he was like family.
He was akin to both a father and a brother to most of them.
Inside the meeting hall, the captains were scattered across various corners, some standing and some sitting, all wearing expressions of deep depression.
The atmosphere was tense, and an awkward silence pervaded the space.
Roland stood in a corner, his hands folded, as he calmly observed the others.
It had already been two days since the attack and the abduction of Rowan, Riela, and Dragun.
The past two days had been the saddest the village had ever experienced — farmers were too unmotivated to work, families were too sorrowful to eat, and most people had simply lost the will to continue living.
In light of all this, Roland understood why—even though he tried his best to remain strong—the disappearance of Rowan weighed heavily upon him.
"Are we even certain that Lord Rowan is still alive?" Bryce asked, breaking the prevailing awkward silence in the meeting hall.
The other captains turned their gaze towards Bryce.
"There is no way for us to ascertain Lord Rowan's current condition," replied George, the captain of the archers.
"Exactly—we don't even know how he departed. The only witness, his divine beasts, cannot communicate in any language we understand," Josh replied, his voice clearly filled with disturbance and heartbreak.
The other captains chimed in with responses that were all too similar, each revealing their sadness, regrets, confusion, frustration, anger, and every conceivable emotion that one might expect in such a dire situation.
"The state of the village has plummeted drastically in just two days of Lord Rowan's absence. If this trend continues, I fear the people will begin to harbor suicidal thoughts and ultimately lose the final spark that keeps them alive," Roland stated.
Although the other captains might have wished to disagree with Roland's assessment, they could not refute the possibility that it might indeed happen.
The situation was nothing short of disastrous.
Roland summoned the other captains together, and they began to propose suggestions on how best to address the pressing issue at hand.
Meanwhile, at the eastern border of Winterseed, D'andre was seen strolling towards the village, whistling enthusiastically without a care in the world.
He appeared remarkably peaceful as he took calm strides towards the village, his eyes gently scanning the surroundings and absorbing every detail.
But then, as he strolled closer, he noticed something amiss.
"Hmm, the guardhouse is empty? This is very unusual," he muttered softly to himself.
Knowing Rowan and his unwavering commitment to the security of his village, it was highly unlikely that he would ever make such a mistake.
"Perhaps he is holding a meeting with his people, as usual, or perhaps something good is unfolding—maybe even a party. I do hope it is a party, for that would give me ample opportunity to converse with my beloved in a positive atmosphere," D'andre remarked with a smile as he hastened his pace, strolling past the border and finally entering the village.
Nevertheless, the scene within the village quickly startled him.
The village was eerily quiet, and the streets lay lonely, with not a single soul visible outside, it was as if he had stepped into a ghost town in the dead of night.
D'andre continued strolling deeper into the village, yet no matter how far he walked, he encountered no one outside.
He noticed a few villagers peeking at him through the windows, while their actions offered him a slight sense of relief, the expressions on their faces only deepened his concern.
Every pair of eyes that peeked out at him was filled with an inexplicable sorrow, and most of them were reddened from an excess of tears, as was clearly visible.
This led him to the same pressing question — "What the heck happened?"
D'andre decided to make his way to the meeting hall—if the village were in dire straits, then Rowan would naturally have gathered his top villagers for a meeting, or so he assumed.
When he reached the village square, he found it as empty as the rest of the village streets.
There, he observed the meeting house.
Using his heightened senses honed through magic cultivation and his focused perception, he detected life within the meeting hall, and so he began to move towards it.
Inside the meeting hall, the captains swiftly recognized his powerful aura and stepped out to greet him.
They greeted him warmly, and he returned the nod in acknowledgment.
D'andre waited expectantly for Rowan to emerge from the meeting hall after the captains, but Rowan did not appear.
"Where is Rowan, and what the heck is happening?" he asked.
"It is a long story."