Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

Chapter 403 The Tale of Village boy - 3

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the trees, the tide of beasts finally began to ebb. Those that could still move began to retreat, their bestial minds finally grasping that this was a foe they could not overcome.

Ofken stood in the centre of the clearing, his clothing torn and soaked with blood—both his and that of the countless beasts he had slain.

The sword of Xeborh pulsed in his hand; its thirst for battle temporarily sated.

As silence fell over the forest, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the wind, Ofken turned his gaze back towards the horizon, right in the direction of his village Beymyre.

He had eliminated the threat, as he had set out to do. The village would be safe now, free from the terror of the beasts that had plagued it for so long.

But as he began the walk back, a small voice in the back of his mind—perhaps the last remnant of the boy he had once been—wondered at what cost this victory had come.

The sword of Xeborh had granted him the power to protect his people, yes. But in doing so, had it taken something essential from him? Something that could never be reclaimed?

He was now pledged with heavy duty, which was yet to come.

The knights were greatly astonished at Ofken's ability to wield the sword. He was definitely a great warrior, and even without the sword, he could survive a beast tide just based on his instinct. His ability to understand the beasts and their attack pattern was commendable; it was like he knew where to strike them, and precision was on the mark.

Ofken pushed these thoughts aside as he emerged from the forest.

*

The mists of Gravarane Forest clung to the outskirts of Beymyre like a shroud, tendrils of vapour creeping between the humble cottages as if

He asked, "Where is Satvi?"

"She is at the spire, at last. I will ask her to write to you," said Ismay, holding his hand. Ofken nodded.

Without a word, Ofken turned and began to walk away from the village.