After twenty long minutes of walking through the forest and surviving a Lizardmen ambush, the group finally caught sight of something ahead. Lug, who led the way in his werewolf form, wagged his tail excitedly and shouted that he could see it.
Connor lifted his head and saw it too—a small village tucked between gentle hills, its houses clustered closely together like old friends. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys, and the faint smell of burning wood reached them.
They had finally arrived.
Connor stopped Lug before he could run ahead. Entering a human village as a towering black-furred beast would cause chaos. With a quick crack of his neck and a deep growl, Lug's body shrank back to human form. The fur faded, claws retracted, and only his wild amber eyes remained.
When Connor turned toward Professor Master Muscle, the man gave his usual straightforward assessment. "Ninety points. You used your teammates' abilities well. Keep it up."
Connor simply nodded with a quiet thanks.
The professor then took the lead, his long strides forcing everyone to hurry to keep up. As they approached the entrance, a man in his thirties waved at them warmly. His simple clothes were stained from work, but his smile carried genuine relief.
"Welcome!" the man said. He introduced himself as Rob, the chief of this small town. His handshake was firm, his eyes filled with hope.
The professor returned the greeting, identifying himself as Master Muscle from Trinity Academy. Rob, clearly impressed by the professor's enormous build, joked that he looked more like a soldier than a scholar. They both laughed briefly before turning to serious matters.
When asked about the village's situation, Rob's smile faded. He led them to his small home, the largest in town but barely able to fit the entire group inside. The cozy living room smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, and villagers peeked curiously through windows as they entered.
Once everyone settled, Rob began explaining. About a month ago, a young man had gone to the mountain behind the village to gather wild vegetables. He returned in a panic—his face bloodied, his clothes torn, and his basket missing. Through gasps and tears, he told them what had happened: a Meteor had attacked him.
The villagers had lived in peace for years, but the sudden appearance of a dangerous creature so close to their homes changed everything. The kingdom was informed, and soon after, Trinity Academy's team arrived to help.
Rob's eyes glimmered with both fear and gratitude. "When I saw you walking toward our village," he said, "I felt like a great weight was finally lifted from my shoulders."
When asked if he knew where the creature had last been seen, Rob admitted that no one dared to return to the mountain. The young man who survived had shut himself indoors ever since, too traumatized to speak of it again.
The professor listened silently, then thanked Rob and gathered the students outside. His heavy voice, though calmer than usual, carried clear authority. "Your third assignment—help the villagers. Any task, no matter how small. The purpose of this dispatch study is not just survival, but service. Learn through action."
Everyone expected his usual loud tone or a lecture, but instead, he sounded… gentle. Almost reflective.
Even Myael noticed and asked softly how they were supposed to help. The professor only said, "Listen to them. Helping others begins with understanding their stories."
With that, he returned to Rob's house, leaving the group to disperse.
Connor watched the professor's back disappear and frowned slightly. Something about his mood felt off. For a man known to shout at every mistake, the professor's calmness was unsettling.
When Connor asked Kyle, the system spirit, for insight, the voice in his mind replied quietly. He's probably nervous. These field studies often end with more danger than expected. Stay alert.
Connor sighed. "I'll believe it when I see it."
He walked around the village, scanning for people who needed help. His gaze fell on a man chopping firewood. It was simple work—but it needed strength, and that was something Connor had plenty of.
The man, sweating under the midday sun, greeted him cautiously. "Hello, student. It's best to stay back unless you want a splinter in your foot."
"I'm here to help," Connor replied.
The man hesitated, clearly doubtful, but handed over the axe after a moment. "Fine. Just don't hurt yourself. Cutting wood isn't like killing monsters."
Connor chuckled and took the axe. The moment his hands gripped the handle, muscle memory from years of mercenary labor returned. The wood split cleanly with every strike, each swing ringing through the quiet village.
For an hour he worked steadily, the pile of chopped logs growing higher. When he finally stopped, the man's eyes widened in disbelief.
"…You're amazing," he said, smiling sincerely now. "You've done enough. Thank you."
Connor nodded, setting the axe aside and stretching his shoulders. "Happy to help."
As he wandered through the village afterward, the sound of laughter caught his attention. A group of children surrounded Lug, tugging curiously at his tail and ears.
"Wow! So fluffy!" one shouted.
"Cold! It feels cold!" giggled another.
Lug sat awkwardly, pretending to be annoyed but clearly holding back a smile. For someone who once terrified mercenaries twice his size, he looked strangely gentle here.
Connor smirked and walked away quietly, knowing that if Lug noticed him, he'd instantly chase the kids off out of embarrassment.
Further ahead, the clanging of tools echoed from a rooftop. Lanius was repairing the villagers' homes, using his mechanical wings to move from roof to roof. The villagers watched in awe as he fixed leaks and reinforced old beams in minutes.
"Thank you!" a man shouted.
Lanius only nodded once. "Next."
He soared to another building before anyone could praise him again.
Everything seemed peaceful—until Connor noticed something out of place.
A figure in a black frilled dress sat proudly under the sun, holding a parasol. Anastasia. She was surrounded by elderly villagers, speaking dramatically with her hand on her chest.
"…and then, before me, ten spear-wielding beasts appeared! My loyal companions trembled in fear, but I—Anastasia Draco Aldhivine—faced them with unyielding grace!"
Connor sighed and walked over, folding his arms. "What are you doing?"
Anastasia froze mid-sentence, her pale face turning even whiter. The old woman she had been impressing blinked in confusion, and the silence that followed was almost comical.
Connor could only shake his head.
The dispatch training was supposed to teach teamwork and service—but somehow, it was already turning into another chaotic adventure.