It has been more than twenty-four hours now since the men left for war, and the village has become really calm thanks to the efforts of Riela, Brandon, and the soldiers. Nevertheless, while the villagers no longer revealed their worries verbally, inwardly, they were all concerned and praying for the safe return of Lord Rowan and his soldiers.
It was the afternoon hours, and Riela could be seen speaking to a group of young ladies gathered at a corner in the large village square. The ladies were of varying ages, ranging from the youngest, who was twelve, to the oldest, who is in her late twenties.
Riela held a small needle, a long strand of thread, and a piece of clothing, performing simple sewing tasks on it as she explained to the young ladies.
They all listened attentively, their eyes shining brilliantly, showing their interest in learning.
"Wow, look how fast she's sewing! It's twice as fast as my mom, who claims to be an expert at it," one of the young ladies whispered.
"My mom has been teaching me how to sew for over two years, but I still can't hold a needle without injuring myself, and I don't even know how to move my hands. But just looking at Riela and listening to her teachings, I feel like I can sew anything!" another added.
"I claim to be an expert, but her hands are so angelic with that thread and needle!"
The young ladies continued to discuss among themselves, and it was clear from their words that they were amazed by Riela's sewing prowess, which made them feel jealous—but in a positive way.
Riela kept explaining and demonstrating, a friendly smile on her face. Every time she looked at the young ladies and observed their expressions, her joy increased, and her desire to teach them grew even stronger.
Thanks to the skill book she had received from Rowan, her teachings became creative, clear, and easy to understand, even for those who hadn't tried sewing before. Even the twelve-year-old girl looked enlightened as she watched her.
In the beginning, Riela couldn't believe her own ability to explain with so much creativity and energy.
The moment she opened her mouth to teach, her natural timidity vanished, replaced by the confidence of a skilled teacher.
She had been teaching for more than five hours now, but she felt no sign of tiredness, either mentally or physically.
Nevertheless, while the joy of teaching blossomed in her heart, her worries about Rowan's safety didn't cease.
Far away from the ladies, Brandon and the soldiers observed her with smiles on their faces.
Brandon was proud to see Riela smiling and doing something she loved.
He saw her as his own daughter, so seeing her happy gladdened his heart.
As for the young soldiers, they smiled because they felt proud of their Lord for winning such a beautiful woman.
"Lord Rowan is a badass when it comes to women," they all thought in their minds.
It was evening, and Glenwood was as calm and peaceful as ever.
The men were still outside, drinking and celebrating the arrival of new slaves to work on their farms and the beautiful women they could woo all day with their excessive free time.
The women were still plotting how to punish the new beauties, while the children played happily.
At the gate, the guards sat down and drank, already celebrating the victory of their Lord.
No one in the village showed any signs of worry as they continued with their merriment—but it would soon come crashing down.
As the villagers continued with their celebrations, suddenly, a loud trumpet blasted across the entire region of Glenwood, reaching everyone.
The people who had been sitting and talking stood up abruptly, looking at each other with confused expressions.
"So soon? They shouldn't be back until at least tomorrow, and that's if they didn't relax along the way," one of the men said, his expression confused.
But the others around him didn't share the same confusion.
"Are you underestimating our military? They must have arrived already and wiped out Winterseed in less time than expected. This is something to celebrate," one said with a proud smile.
"The trumpet signals their return, and as the people of Glenwood, we should not ignore its meaning. Let's go welcome them," another reminded the group.
The men left their drinks and hurried to the village entrance.
The women did the same, as did the little children.
Everyone in the village at that moment was headed toward the entrance to welcome their gallant men.
They all had smiles of merriment and curiosity on their faces, eager to see their Lord's return.
If there were a camera zooming over the village right now, it would capture a scene of people flocking toward the gates like ants.
They soon arrived at the entrance, and their expressions crumbled at once when they saw the scene before them. Their eyes quickly widened in terror.
Guards were lying on the ground in pools of their own blood. Glenwood's soldiers were bound and led into the village like slaves, accompanied by a strong, fierce-looking group of men. Worst of all, their beloved Lord Fagin was being dragged like a cursed slave.
In front of the large group of strangers and fellow villagers pouring into the village, a young, handsome man was riding a white horse. He had a sweet and charming smile on his face, but it seemed to hide something demonic beneath, scaring everyone.
"What is this?" one of the men who had been celebrating earlier whispered to his colleagues.
"This is impossible… we lost? How?" someone nearby said in terror.
"That young man must be the Lord of Winterseed. He doesn't even look older than eighteen. How did he manage to defeat our strong soldiers?" another added in disbelief.
Seeing the terrifying strangers marching into their village, even the little children became frightened, clinging to their parents' legs.
Both the men and women were terrified—everything they had hoped for had crumbled right before their eyes.
Rowan observed their various reactions with a calm smirk.
[ You have entered enemy territory: Glenwood Village. ]
[ You are 60% away from conquering this territory… Good luck. ]