The wheat fields stretched across the horizon in a wide golden wave. Each stalk bent and rose with the passing wind, creating a soft rustling that carried through the open plains. A young girl rode through the fields on horseback, her pointed hat and twin pigtails swaying with each step. Her blue hair caught the sunlight, drawing the attention of nearby villagers. Some watched with curiosity, others with caution, yet she returned every stare with a polite smile and a small wave.
Buena Village sat at the edge of the plains. It was larger than a simple farming settlement, yet not developed enough to be mistaken for a central hub. Wooden scaffolds surrounded half‑finished homes. Carpenters hammered planks into place while merchants arranged goods on newly built stalls. The streets were busy with movement as the air held the scent of fresh lumber and grain.
Children ran through the commotion without concern. They darted past Roxy's horse, laughing as they chased one another between the workers. Their voices echoed across the village, rising above the noise of construction. Roxy watched them with a bittersweet smile, her posture straight and her hands steady on the reins.
A voice called out from behind her.
"Excuse me. Per chance, are you Roxy Migurdia?"
A slim tall man approached as Roxy halted her horse. His blonde hair caught the afternoon light, and his red eyes held a steady focus. The long shape of his ears marked him clearly as a member of the long‑ear elf tribe.
Roxy's eyes perked at the sight of the distinct trait.
The man offered a small smile and extended his hand.
"My name is Laws Wyvernstep. I am one of the knights overseeing Buena Village's security."
Roxy's mouth opened slightly in surprise.
"O‑oh, y‑yes."
She stepped down from her horse with practiced ease. Laws watched her descent with a brief flick of curiosity, noting the controlled movement of her boots and the way she landed lightly on the ground.
Roxy brushed the dust from her skirt and adjusted her pointed hat. She extended her hand and met his gaze.
"My name is Roxy Migurdia. A‑Rank adventurer."
Laws's brows lifted.
"Oh. I did hear good news from our employer, but he did not disclose your adventurer rank. I am sure we will be in capable hands."
Roxy's cheeks rose with a faint flush as she averted her gaze.
"Y‑yes. I have experience in protection work, so I hope senior can guide me properly."
Laws shook his head once.
"No need to be so humble, Roxy. And call me Laws. Formality is unnecessary."
"Y‑yes, Laws…"
"You have traveled a long distance. Shall I show you the place you will be staying?"
Roxy opened her mouth to respond, but her nose caught a foul stench drifting from the horse's packs. She jerked back with a stiff posture.
"E‑erh, y‑yes. Please show me the way."
Laws glanced at her reaction, then at the horse, noting the source of the smell. He did not comment. He turned and began walking with a steady pace.
Roxy climbed back onto Mackenzie's saddle and tapped her heels lightly. The horse understood the signal and followed Laws down the path, its hooves pressing into the dirt with rhythmic steps.
Laws walked down the main road of Buena Village with steady steps. Villagers noticed him immediately. A farmer carrying a crate lifted his hand in greeting. A pair of women paused their conversation to bow their heads politely. A carpenter stepped away from a scaffold to exchange a few words with him. Each interaction was brief, yet warm. The villagers approached him with familiarity, speaking to him with ease. Their tone carried trust, and their posture relaxed whenever he passed.
Roxy observed these exchanges from atop her horse. The villagers' reactions formed a clear pattern. They treated Laws as a reliable figure, someone whose presence brought a sense of security. Even children slowed their running when they saw him, offering quick waves before continuing their play.
As they moved deeper into the village, Roxy's attention shifted to Laws himself. Her gaze lingered on his long ears, the distinct trait of the long‑ear elf tribe. She then examined his gear. It differed from the heavy armor of knights she had met before. His attire was light and fitted for movement. Several compact tools hung from his belt, each placed with purpose. More gadgets rested across his back, arranged neatly in small compartments. The equipment resembled the loadout of a hunter, built for versatility and quick response.
Roxy continued studying him, her eyes tracing each piece of gear. Laws noticed the prolonged stare and let out a quiet chuckle.
"Do you find it odd that a knight is wearing such light gear?"
Roxy tilted her head slightly.
"Are you perhaps a Sword North practitioner?"
Laws looked back at her with widened eyes.
"Oh. You are very knowledgeable about sword styles, especially for a mage."
Roxy offered a small smile and looked ahead at the road.
"While traveling throughout the continent—"
BOOM!
A sudden blast erupted far across the plains. The sound rolled through the road like a heavy drumbeat. Heads turned toward the horizon where a thick black cloud rose behind the wheat fields.
The villagers stopped what they were doing. Uneasiness spread through the street as every posture stiffened and the air grew tense.
Laws's mouth parted as he watched the dark cloud climb higher.
Roxy's voice cut through the tension.
"Laws! Hop on!"
The elf broke from his stunned posture. He moved toward her horse and leapt, clearing the saddle with controlled ease. He landed behind Roxy, his boots settling without disturbing her balance.
He twisted his torso and addressed the villagers with a firm voice.
"Everyone, return to your homes! Stay cautious!"
The villagers did not run, but their movements grew tense. A few nodded and stepped toward their doors. Others gathered their tools and walked back slowly, glancing over their shoulders at the rising smoke.
The moment Laws settled behind her, Mackenzie snorted and lifted her head. Roxy flicked the reins lightly. The horse responded at once, launching forward into a sprint.
Hooves struck the dirt road in rapid rhythm. The wind pressed against Roxy's hat. Laws steadied himself behind her, his gaze locked on the distant black cloud.
During the gallop, his voice reached her with a sharp edge.
"Tch. They struck the stone smith this time."
Roxy's brows drew forward.
"Please tell me what is happening, Laws."
"… As you heard, monster activity has been increasing. We have little personnel in security, so we cannot cover the entire perimeter. In response, Buena Village began constructing a wall around our vicinity."
Roxy looked across the plains. The wheat fields stretched far into the horizon, their golden color fading as the smoke rose higher.
"Constructing a wall in this large territory?"
Laws leaned slightly to the side, adjusting his balance as Mackenzie accelerated.
"Yes. The idea is ambitious and rough around the edges. However, Roxy, Buena Village has received many refugees from neighboring territories due to the danger these monster activities bring. Their arrival only increases the severity of our situation. To prevent Buena Village from sharing the fate of other villages, we invested in three stone‑smith studios."
Roxy looked ahead. The black smoke rose higher as they closed in. Her brows tightened as the stone‑smith studio came into view.
The destruction was immediate.
The roof had collapsed inward, forcing thick smoke to spill out from every gap. The cloud pushed through the broken beams like a furnace exhaling. Flames licked along the edges of the structure, climbing up the remaining supports. Debris covered the ground. Shattered stone blocks lay scattered across the dirt. Splintered wood and metal fragments were thrown in every direction. The front wall had been blown outward, leaving a jagged opening that revealed the ruined interior.
Before Roxy or Laws could act, a sharp scream cut through the air.
They turned toward the exterior side of the studio.
A green creature stood there.
Its skin was rough and uneven. Its limbs were thin yet tense. Its eyes were small and sharp, and its mouth stretched into a crooked grin. It let out a creaking laugh while riding a large gray wolf. The wolf's fur bristled, its teeth bared as it paced in circles.
Several villagers lay on the mud ground. Some were motionless. One man clutched his shoulder, his arm wrapped in torn cloth. Another villager pressed his back against a broken fence, trembling as he begged for help.
The goblin tugged at the wolf's fur and let out another jagged laugh.
Roxy's posture stiffened. Her staff rose in her hand. Mana gathered at its tip, forming a bright point of cold light.
"Sovereign of frost, great conqueror of snowy plains, king of zero who reaps all heat. Let the cold lord of death freeze all. Blizzard Storm!"
Multiple bolts of frozen ice shot forward in rapid succession. The wolf reacted instantly, twisting its body and leaping aside with nimble movements. The bolts struck the ground, leaving sharp trails of frost across the dirt.
The goblin turned its head toward Roxy. It smirked and let out a rough chuckle.
Roxy raised her staff again. Mana gathered at the tip.
Before she released the next spell, a larger goblin noticed her stance. It squeaked loudly. The sound echoed across the ruined yard. The other goblins halted their torment and turned toward the forest. They pulled on their wolves' fur and rode away from the stone‑smith studio, retreating in a coordinated rush.
Roxy leaned forward.
"I will not let you get away—"
"Roxy!"
Her name cut through the rising anger in her chest. The elf had already jumped down from the horse. He moved across the rubble with quick steps, lifting survivors from beneath fallen beams and pulling them away from the burning structure.
"Pour out the fire! There are still people inside!"
Roxy kept her staff raised.
"But the goblins are getting away—"
"People first!"
The piercing command stopped her in place. She looked around. Flames climbed along the broken beams. Smoke rose in thick waves, filling her field of vision. Heat pressed against her cheeks, sharp and stinging.
Her brows tightened. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. The gemstone on her staff responded, glowing with a steady blue light.
"Scatter falling droplets and blanket the world in water. Water Splash!"
Water droplets formed above her, gathering in a thin sheet across the sky. They fell in a wide curtain over the burning studio. Steam erupted as the droplets struck the flames. Cracking sounds echoed from the collapsing wood. White clouds replaced the black smoke, spreading across the yard in a thick mist.
Laws continued pulling survivors away from the rubble. Roxy stepped forward, her staff lowered slightly as she watched the fire weaken under the falling water.
The stone‑smith studio remained broken, but the flames began to fade.
Laws moved quickly under the rubble. He crouched low, placing his strength into lifting the smaller fallen stones that had dropped over the villagers trapped inside the ruined studio. He pulled one survivor free, then another, guiding them toward the open space away from the burning structure.
A wooden support pillar cracked above their heads. The sound snapped through the air. The pillar broke apart in the next instant. A slab of stone shifted overhead, beginning to fall toward Laws and the villagers.
The collapse stopped mid‑motion.
A trail of frost spread across the ceiling. The falling stones froze in place, held by a sudden sheet of ice.
Laws turned toward the source.
Roxy stood at the entrance, breathless and sweating. Her staff glowed with cold light as she shouted with urgency.
"Please move out of the building as fast as you can!"
Laws tightened his grip around the injured villagers. He lifted one under his arm and pulled another by the shoulder. He moved through the rubble with quick steps, guiding them toward the exit as the frozen ceiling began to crack.
Sharp sounds echoed above them. Thin fractures spread across the ice. Small shards fell from the frozen surface, tapping against the debris below.
Laws pushed forward, stepping over broken beams and scattered tools. He reached the open yard just as a larger crack split across the frozen ceiling.
Seven villagers were gathered near the rubble. Laws turned to the elder among them, urgency tightening his voice.
"Sir, is this everyone who was inside?"
The elder coughed, forcing out the words.
"T‑there were eight of us…"
Laws's posture shifted at once. He spun toward the ruined stone‑smith studio and rushed forward, his steps quick and uneven across the debris.
He reached the entrance just as the frozen ceiling buckled.
A sharp crack echoed overhead. The ice sheet fractured. The ceiling caved in the next instant. Stone blocks dropped in a heavy cascade. Dust burst outward as the structure collapsed. The entire studio crumbled before his eyes, the sound of stone striking stone filling the air in rapid impacts.
The force of the collapse pushed Laws backward. He raised his arms to brace against the wave of dust. When the cloud settled enough for him to lower his hands, his face held a rigid stillness, his eyes fixed on the fallen structure.
Roxy stood a few steps behind him. Her grip tightened around her staff. Her lips pressed together. Her posture remained straight, yet her shoulders held a faint tremor.
If only I was faster.
BOOM!
All heads snapped toward the plains. Another column of black smoke rose from a distant point, climbing into the sky in a thick spiral.
Laws clenched his fist. His teeth pressed together as the smoke grew darker.
"Not the food reserves…"
Roxy stepped away from Mackenzie and hurried toward him. Dust clung to his clothes. Scratches lined his arms. His breathing was uneven from the rescue.
"Laws, please get on! If we hurry, we might make it—"
BOOM!
A third explosion erupted in the opposite direction of the second. Their heads whipped back. The smoke rose fast, spreading across the sky in a wide plume.
Roxy's eyes widened. Her brows tightened as she recognized the direction.
"The residential area!"
Laws turned sharply. His posture stiffened. The villagers behind them froze, staring at the new smoke with rising uneasiness.
Roxy grabbed the reins and pulled Mackenzie closer. The horse snorted, sensing the urgency.
"Laws, we need to move!"
-----Lawls POV-----
Not the residential area. The smoke rising there sits close enough to my home that the image of my family flashes through my mind before I can stop it, but I force my head toward the second explosion because decisions made in panic only waste lives. The residential district has patrols stationed across the streets; they can respond faster than anyone else. The food reserves do not. With the number of refugees we've taken in, losing the reserves means losing the winter, and if the winter collapses, the village collapses with it.
I measure the distance automatically. The reserves are far, too far for anyone to reach on foot before the attackers finish their assault. The workers there have no defensive formation, no trained fighters, only tools and storage crates. If we want to save as many people as we pulled from the stone‑smith, then the only correct choice is to ride there immediately. Without a horse, the time it takes to reach them becomes a death sentence.
The calculation finishes in my head, and the answer hits with the weight of a falling beam.
I know what the correct choice is. I know exactly what the co‑head knight of Buena Village is supposed to do right now.
But as a father and a husband, I cannot simply turn my back on my family.
The thought hits hard enough to tighten my breath. I strike my fist against a chunk of debris. The stone scrapes my knuckles and draws blood, but the sting barely registers.
Of all days, I chose to walk instead of ride. Of all days, I left my horse behind.
I open my eyes with a sharp pull of determination and snap my head toward the young mage who has already proven herself capable in the short time we've fought side by side.
"Roxy!"
My voice cuts through the chaos. She turns immediately, staff still in hand, breath still uneven from the spell she cast.
"Take your horse and head to the residential area. I will handle that explosion."
She looks toward the food reserves, then back toward the residential district, her head snapping between the two columns of smoke as she measures the distance.
"But without a horse—"
The words push out of me rougher than I intended.
"Do as I tell you! The people's lives matter most now!"
I turned toward the injured we had just pulled from the rubble and pointed toward the southeast.
"Villagers, head to the commercial area. The clinic there will treat your injuries—"
I was already moving when a hand clamped onto my arm. Instinct snapped through me; I flicked my arm free and stepped back, only to find the elderly man staring at me with a firm, unshaken gaze.
"I heard your conversation," he said, breath still uneven. "Are you planning to sprint all the way there?"
"Yes, sir. That's why I don't have time. I must hurry—"
"Wait."
He grabbed my sleeve again, stronger this time, holding me in place.
"I don't want anyone else losing their lives today. Use our stone‑smith donkey."
Heat rose in my head at the absurdity of the suggestion. I turned toward him sharply.
"A donkey? What are you—"
The elderly man yanked my arm, pulling me closer until his eyes locked onto mine.
"Listen carefully, young man. On the left side of the donkey's bag, there's a golden carrot wrapped in white paper. Feed that carrot to the donkey, and it will run faster than a golden horse."
He pushed me back, and I stumbled a step as he pointed toward the west.
"The donkey should be right behind that farmhouse. The goblins haven't raided it yet. Now hurry."
He gave me a firm tap on the back before turning toward the clinic with the other survivors.
A bead of sweat slid down my forehead. I clenched my fist, feeling the sting in my scraped knuckles, and turned toward the young mage with full resolve.
-----Roxy POV-----
A golden carrot? It was difficult to imagine a donkey outrunning a horse, but the elderly man spoke with such certainty that the thought lingered for only a heartbeat before Lawls's voice cut through it.
"Roxy, go! The fire is getting worse!"
I snapped back to reality. Behind me, the explosion had already birthed a spreading blaze. Flames climbed the wooden walls of the nearby houses, catching the dry beams and straw roofs with alarming speed. The bright blue sky above Buena was being swallowed by thick black smoke, rising in heavy waves that blurred the horizon.
There was no time to question anything.
I whipped the reins and leaned forward.
"Mackenzie!"
REIGH!
Mackenzie responded instantly, hooves striking the dirt as she launched into a gallop toward the residential area. The wind pushed against my hat, the smoke rolled across the rooftops, and the screams from the distant streets reached my ears in faint echoes.
The village was burning.
And one thought pressed at the back of my mind, tightening my grip on the reins as Mackenzie accelerated.
I must hurry!
-----Laws POV-----
The farmhouse came into view as I sprinted across the dirt path, my boots kicking up dust with each step. The donkey stood beside the fence, crates strapped to its sides and a worn saddle already secured on its back. It turned its head toward me, ears flicking, eyes half‑lidded in a way that made it look almost bored.
Golden carrot. Wrapped in white paper.
I reached for the small crate hanging from its left side and dug through the contents with both hands. Tools, rope, a cloth bag, a chipped cup — none of it mattered. I pushed deeper, adrenaline tightening my breath, until my fingers brushed against a long, cylindrical shape wrapped in stained white paper. I pulled it out and tore the wrapping open.
A carrot, slightly tinted yellow.
My brows tightened. It looked nothing like gold.
"This is what I get for trusting an old man…"
I held the carrot up. The donkey stared at it, then at me, tilting its head before baring its large, uneven teeth as if mocking the entire situation.
A vein pulsed on my forehead.
I shoved the "golden" carrot straight into its mouth. The donkey jerked back, offended, but the carrot went down. I unlatched the crates from its sides, dropping them to the ground one by one until only the saddle and reins remained. The donkey snorted, stamping its hooves as if the sudden lightness irritated it.
I mounted quickly, gripping the reins and leaning forward.
The donkey froze.
Then its muscles tightened.
Then it launched forward.
The acceleration hit like a sudden drop on a steep slope. My body jerked back, and I wrapped both arms around the donkey's neck to keep from being thrown off. The ground blurred beneath us. The wind slammed against my face. The donkey sprinted with a force that felt nothing like a normal animal — its strides stretched long, its hooves struck the dirt in rapid bursts, and every motion carried a surge of unnatural speed.
"Whoa—! That's too fast!"
The donkey veered off the path, the reins jerking hard in my hands. I pulled left to correct, but the sudden shift slammed my weight sideways against the saddle. I tightened my grip, teeth clenched, as the animal kept accelerating.
I leaned forward and forced my balance into the motion, tugging the reins just enough to angle us toward the rising smoke. The donkey responded instantly, cutting across the dirt with a burst of speed that punched the air from my lungs.
The surroundings blurred.
All I could do was hold on and drive it toward the fire as one thought pressed in the back of my head.
I must hurry!