Samye stood at the edge of the forest clearing, staring in disbelief.

  A small town—quiet, alive, peaceful—rested beneath the towering ancient trees. Wooden houses blended into the roots. Lanterns glowed softly. Families moved about calmly. Children ran freely.

  No screams.

  No raids.

  No hatred.

  A place untouched by the chaos outside.

  Samye’s breath caught.

  How… is this possible?

  But before he could take another step—

  Ropes tightened around his arms.

  Someone struck the back of his legs.

  He fell hard onto the dirt as rough hands grabbed him from behind.

  “What—?”

  A bag was thrown over his head.

  Voices shouted around him:

  “Outsider!”

  “Don’t let him move!”

  “Tie him—NOW!”

  Samye struggled, but he was exhausted and injured. He felt several hands lifting him and dragging him across the ground.

  Great… he thought bitterly.

  That’s not a very good welcome.

  He was thrown into a cold stone cell.

  The door slammed shut.

  Samye lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, trying to regain his composure. Despite everything, he almost laughed.

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  “Saved your kids,” he muttered to himself, “and this is how you repay me…”

  He didn’t have the strength to yell or complain.

  After everything he’d endured, a prison cell almost felt normal.

  He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

  Heavy footsteps echoed outside.

  The door opened sharply.

  A guard grabbed him by the arm.

  “Get up. Village Chief wants to see you.”

  Samye pushed himself up, wincing as pain shot through his injured foot.

  While they dragged him away, he glanced at the guard.

  “…What’s the name of this place?”

  The guard snorted.

  “Quiet, mongrel. You are in the holy village of Kamaskh.”

  Samye raised an eyebrow.

  Holy village?

  Interesting.

  He was taken through a carved wooden building, torches lighting the interior. Guards pushed open a large door, and Samye was brought before a man seated cross-legged on a mat.

  The village chief.

  Even before speaking, Samye felt it—

  a pressure, a quiet intensity, the unmistakable presence of an ability wielder.

  But he said nothing.

  Two guards forced Samye to kneel.

  The chief raised a hand.

  “Untie him. Now.”

  The guards hesitated.

  “That is an order.”

  The ropes were removed immediately.

  Then the chief bowed his head slightly.

  “Forgive my villagers for their rudeness,” he said calmly. “They have suffered much lately.”

  Samye blinked.

  This was the first genuine apology he’d heard from anyone in months.

  The chief continued:

  “In recent weeks, outsiders have begun attacking us. Kidnappings, random raids, ability hunters. We no longer know who to trust. So, to protect Kamaskh, we capture first… and ask later.”

  Samye exhaled softly.

  “It’s fine,” he replied. “I understand. I just saw those kids being dragged away and… couldn’t sit back. They reminded me of someone I used to know.”

  There was a quiet shift in the air.

  The chief opened his eyes fully for the first time.

  They were sharp.

  Old.

  Heavy with experience.

  And they studied Samye closely.

  “You are wounded,” the chief said. “Deeply. Not just the body… but the spirit.”

  Samye looked away.

  The chief then rose to his feet.

  “Let me repay your kindness. Tonight, a banquet will be held in your honor. You saved precious children of our village. We cannot ignore that.”

  Samye hesitated.

  He had no home.

  No destination.

  No rest.

  “…I accept,” he said finally.

  The chief nodded warmly.

  “Then stay among us for a while. The village of Kamaskh owes you its gratitude.”

  Samye bowed slightly in return.

  For the first time in a long time—

  he felt welcomed.

  Not as a prisoner.

  Not as a fugitive.

  Not as a burden.

  Just… as someone who mattered.