The following morning, their campaign to eradicate the Calami pack continued—dragging on for several more grueling months—until at last they reached the final village of their mission.
Gravenholm Village lay in a valley to the northeast of Central, nestled close to the Calamyr Mountain Range.
The surrounding land was choked with dense, overgrown forests and towering trees packed so tightly together that sunlight could barely reach the ground. A tall wooden palisade encircled the settlement, its perimeter guarded by vigilant soldiers stationed at every watchpoint.
After Richard finished speaking with the commander responsible for the village's defense, he led Ryn inside. Yet what awaited them bore no resemblance to any ordinary village.
There were no houses at all.
Instead, a series of large earthen mounds rose from the ground, lined up in rows. At the front of each mound stood a massive wooden door, thick and reinforced, serving as the sole entrance and exit.
Richard explained as they walked.
"This place is too close to the Calamyr Mountains," he said, gesturing toward the colossal peaks looming in the far east.
The mountains pierced the heavens, their summits vanishing into dense, roiling clouds. Their black silhouettes stretched across the land like a devouring shadow, swallowing the surrounding forests whole. Jagged cliffs overlapped in twisted layers, resembling the broken fangs of some colossal beast. A veil of gray mist clung perpetually to the lower slopes, giving the range a grim, forbidden air.
"That's why the people here dug underground shelters," Richard continued.
"When the soldiers announce that they are coming, everyone immediately retreats into those holes."
Ryn felt a sharp pang of pity for the villagers. To live one's life beneath the earth, fleeing monsters again and again, was a fate no one should have to endure. Yet there was little he could do beyond bearing witness.
As they walked, a question stirred in his mind.
"Master," Ryn asked, "we're staying here tonight, aren't we? Where are we supposed to sleep?"
Richard answered curtly, "Yes."
He stopped beneath the shade of a massive tree a short distance from the shelters and said,
"Here. This will be our camp for the night."
He scanned the area, his voice softening slightly.
"This is the final task. After this, we can finally go home."
The two of them sat down, brushing away the exhaustion of their long journey.
It was already evening—the hour just before the sun sank beneath the horizon.
Ryn rose to his feet, intending to gather firewood, but Richard stopped him at once.
"No need. We won't be lighting a fire tonight."
Ryn sat back down where he was. Though confusion stirred in his chest, he asked no questions. He trusted that his master had his reasons.
Only when the last light of the sun had completely faded did Richard speak again.
"All right… climb the tree."
With that, he began ascending without hesitation. Ryn still didn't fully understand what was happening, but he followed obediently.
When both of them had climbed to the uppermost branches and settled into silence, gazing down below—
After some time had passed, several Calami creatures emerged and wandered into the village grounds.
The settlement lay in absolute silence. The villagers had already retreated into their underground shelters, while the soldiers and mages stationed along the walls remained hidden, watching in grim stillness.
When the last Calami slipped through the village gate, the beasts began sniffing the air in agitation, searching desperately for the scent of females. Some clawed at the soil, others leapt about, while a few ran in frantic, aimless circles, their movements chaotic and feral.
Yet all Ryn could see were faint, shifting silhouettes swallowed by the darkness.
Then—Richard clapped his hands.
At once, several Calami turned toward the sound.
In that very instant, defensive enchantments unleashed by the mages surged across the ground, spreading rapidly like a glowing net.
The village gates slammed shut.
There was no escape.
With the trap sealed, a second group of mages opened fire, unleashing a storm of destructive spells upon the Calami horde below.
Richard and Ryn joined the assault immediately.
Flaming arrows, blazing hammers, walls of fire, and towering pillars of flame rained down without mercy.
Agonized howls echoed through the valley as countless Calami were reduced to smoldering carcasses, scattered across the scorched earth.
When the inferno finally subsided, Richard leapt down to finish off the survivors. Ryn followed close behind, and the village guards poured in to eliminate any remaining threats.
It didn't take long.
The invading Calami pack was completely annihilated.
All that remained was the thick, suffocating stench of burnt flesh lingering in the air.
After the battle, Ryn continued to patrol the area, searching for any sign of surviving enemies.
But what astonished him even more—
He did not find a single fallen soldier.
Shock and awe coursed through him as he realized the brilliance of his master's strategy.
Ryn finally spoke, unable to hold back his curiosity.
"Master… how did you manage this? Not a single person died."
Richard let out a quiet chuckle.
"I already told you, didn't I? Why chase after some uncertain power that may not even exist, when we can make full use of the power we already have?"
He raised a finger and tapped Ryn on the forehead.
"Your brain."
"Those creatures don't think. Not really. Even if they've survived for over three hundred years,"
"we've survived far longer—because we do."
His tone grew slightly more serious.
"If you plan properly, you can do the same. Though, of course, you won't be this lucky every time."
Those words stirred old memories within Ryn—back when he still served as a city guard.
Once, Tarin had told him:
Even if you have countless skilled warriors, without a plan they'll fight in chaos—running about blindly, losing their way, and eventually dying in vain.
But with a strategist, those same warriors gain direction. Casualties are reduced. And if every advantage is used wisely… sometimes, no one has to die at all.
"Pretty impressive, right? That's the kind of strategist I want to be."
Back then, Ryn hadn't truly understood the words of his dear friend—now long gone.
But now…
Now he finally grasped the true weight of battle planning.
After helping dispose of the Calami corpses, the village chief came forward to thank them for their aid.
He explained that the number of Calami had been increasing steadily in recent times—so much so that the soldiers were struggling to hold them back. Thanks to this operation, however, the village would finally have a chance to breathe again.
Not long after, Richard and Ryn departed Gravenholm, continuing on their journey.
As they walked, Richard released a long sigh.
"Haaah… finally, the job's done."
He stopped and turned to Ryn.
"All right. A promise is a promise."
Ryn blinked in confusion.
"A promise? What promise, sir?"
Richard raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Well? Once the job was done, I said I'd take you to climb the Calamyr Valley. Don't tell me you forgot."
Ryn froze for a moment—then realization dawned. He had assumed Richard was only joking and hadn't taken it seriously.
"Y-You mean it? You're really taking me there?"
Richard answered without hesitation.
"Of course. Unless you don't want to."
"I do!"
Ryn replied almost instantly.
A faint smile touched Richard's lips.
"Good. Then it's about time you see it with your own eyes."
And so, the two of them set their course toward the towering, pitch-black mountain that loomed before them…