Meanwhile, in the village, three men stood in front of the village chief. They were stopping him from leaving.
"Chief, do you trust us or the mage?" One of the men asked.
The three of them were messengers who ventured into the dark fog and fell unconscious. Now, all three of them were awake and talking to the chief.
"I trust you both." The chief answered firmly.
"How can you trust him? The mage is doing who knows what in the lighthouse. Perhaps, he might even be working with the necromancer. Maybe he sold us out to save himself. We, on the other hand, worked hard and found a way to leave."
"Shouldn't you trust us more?"
"Shouldn't you?"
The three of them asked loudly, with a trace of anger appearing in their voice.
"We even sent a messenger out through the gap in the fog."
"Why don't you believe us even after that?"
"Where the little mage failed, we succeeded. It's a fact." Added another man.
The chief looked at the trio silently. What they said had some validity to it.
While Zephyr was doing his own thing without speaking to the villagers, the three who woke up had found a gap in the fog. Through it, they had already sent a messenger out.
If a messenger could leave, all of them could leave.
Even Zephyr had asked them to evacuate. So, their demand to let everyone leave through the gap was very reasonable.
After all, who knows when the necromancer would attack them?
"We should leave. We can't wait around and do nothing." The man said and clenched his jaw.
He looked frustrated.
"I…" The village chief didn't know what to do.
They haven't yet informed Zephyr about the gap.
No, truth be told, the messengers didn't let him inform Zephyr because they feared he was working with the necromancer.
"But…"
The chief stopped speaking.
"You shouldn't hesitate, chief. The life of everyone here depends on your decision. That includes the lives of our family members. If you hesitate, all of us could die. Do you want that?"
"No." This time, he didn't hesitate.
He really didn't want anyone to die.
"But we don't know if the passage will remain safe until all of us can leave. And, I also don't think Sir Zephyr is working with the necromancer because I saw him risking his life to kill the ghoul. I can vouch for his credibility."
The chief raised some valid points and waited to hear their reply.
However, the three men scowled in response.
They were not satisfied with how the chief was thinking.
He seems to be putting more trust in the mage than in them. None of them liked that.
They knew with how things were going, they wouldn't be able to make everyone evacuate through the passage they found.
It was frustrating.
Pausing for a few breaths, they looked at each other. Then a cold glint appeared in their eyes.
They nodded at each other.
"We don't care anymore."
"Yes, we are going to take those who want to leave with us."
"You can't stop us, chief."
The three left the word and turned around.
The chief tried to stop them, but they were faster. The old man struggled to keep up with them when they disappeared into the fog.
"This…"
The unity the village had was breaking down. Internal conflict began to arise as they realized they were in a death trap.
Fear and powerlessness were making them react irrationally.
The chief took a deep breath and decided to talk to Zephyr. At least, in his heart, he believed the young man was not someone who would betray his comrades.
—
Far away, on the island, the necromancer dropped his blood into the head of a corpse.
It was the fourth messenger the village sent out.
"Kha ha ha ha…"
He watched the blood drill into the forehead of the corpse in glee.
"A bunch of fools. Why would there be a gap in a trap formation?" He wore a mocking smile and said.
"They actually fell for that! Didn't the little mage cause you any problems this time?"
The swordsman who stood next to the necromancer asked.
"No, he seems to have closed himself off in the damned lighthouse. He must be groveling in fear. That damned brat."
"But you can't see inside the lighthouse, right? So, how can you know what he is doing? For all we could know, he might be making another rune formation to attack, or possibly kill us."
"He…a fool like that? I don't think so. He doesn't even know the entire village is about to fall into my trap, so how can he think of defeating me?"
"Well, you would never know. From what I have heard about him, he didn't seem like a quitter."
"Hm…" The necromancer raised an eyebrow. "Why?" He asked.
"Think about it. He has the smallest core known to mankind. For that, he was scorned and looked down on by his peers, teachers, and the entire magic society before being banished to this place. And yet, even after all that, he never complained nor quit. So, from my perspective, he is an anomaly we might have to take seriously. After all, anyone else in his position would have died when you sent out the ghoul to kill him. And yet, he didn't, right?"
The man paused for a while and touched his sword.
"When you disregard his apparent weaknesses, the quality of a warrior he displayed in that battle alone is enough to consider him a worthy opponent."
"If only God had given him a mana core worthy of his intellect and grit, it would have been a difficult battle for even me."
The swordsman's wretched blood boiled just thinking about it.
"Compared to fighting the mindless losers of the storm tower, it would have been so much fun."
The man said with a smile.
The necromancer watched him smile with a gloomy expression.
"The kid didn't defeat me. I was taken aback by the lightning spell. That was why the ghoul I controlled died."
The man heard this and turned his eyes away, looking into the horizon. The fog formation was still there, spewing vapor into the sky. Beneath it, there was a deep whirlpool.
If you look closely, you could see dark, ancient rock pillars emerge from the depths of the whirlpool.
"If you say so, master." He said slowly.
"Uh! What do you mean by that? Let me show you how weak he is. I will send this ghoul back to the village and kill him once and for all." The necromancer said, looking at the corpse before him.
"First, I have to make it unrecognizable to not let the cat out of the bag." He said before crouching down to touch the face of the corpse.
The swordsman was unamused. Still, stood by silently, looking at the sea.
His mission was to protect his master until the end. Nothing else really mattered to him.