The air still felt thick and heavy after the big fight. Tiny bits of dust floated in the sunlight that streamed through holes in the roofs. There was a smell of burnt wood and something metallic, maybe leftover from the dark magic Brand had used.

  The villagers stood close together. They looked relieved, but also tired and still a little scared.

  One older man stepped out from the group. He stood tall, even though he was old, and his eyes looked wise and showed he was in charge.

  "My name is Oliver," the older man said. His voice wasn't loud, but everyone listened. It was steady and respectful. "I am the chief of this village." He looked right at Adam.

  Adam turned his head to look at Oliver. He studied the elder's face, which had lines from age and worry, but also looked strong. Adam remembered something.

  He recalled how fast and deadly Oliver had moved when Brand was controlling him. Even though he was old, the man had fought like a skilled warrior, like someone who knew how to fight and hadn't forgotten.

  Adam thought it was strange – what kind of village was this, where even the old chief had secret fighting skills?

  Adam pushed that thought away for now. He took a small step forward, showing respect just like Oliver.

  He answered politely, his voice calm even after all the chaos. "My name is Adam." He didn't want to sound scary, but he didn't want to seem weak either.

  Oliver nodded slowly to show he heard. A kind look came over his face, making him seem less strict for a moment.

  Then, he pointed with his wrinkled hand toward a young man standing stiffly next to him on his right.

  This man was tall, maybe twenty-five years old. He had wide shoulders like he worked hard or trained a lot, maybe both. His face was serious, and he looked troubled as he met Adam's eyes.

  "This is my older son, James," Oliver said. He sounded proud, but also a little worried.

  James had been standing silently next to his father like a statue. He stepped forward and bowed his head slightly toward Adam.

  "Please forgive me for attacking you," he said. His voice was deep and sounded truly sorry. He looked a little ashamed.

  "I… I couldn't control myself. That thing… it forced me. I didn't want to hurt you. I promise." He looked down at his hands like they had done something wrong, and he clenched them tightly.

  Adam opened his mouth to tell James it was okay, that he understood about being controlled and didn't blame him.

  But before he could say anything, the other young man on Oliver’s left almost jumped forward. He was younger than James, maybe eighteen.

  He was muscular and looked strong, but he had totally different energy. His eyes had a spark of mischief, like he was maybe a little wild. A big smile spread across his face, like he wasn't bothered at all by what just happened.

  "And my name is Nova!" he announced. His voice was loud and full of energy that seemed out of place. He puffed his chest out a bit.

  "Even though that demon controlled me, I gotta say, fighting you was fun! Really exciting! You move so fast! I'd love to fight you again sometime! Maybe we could spar for real?"

  Adam blinked. He was really surprised by how excited Nova sounded. It was so unexpected and didn't fit the serious mood at all. But it was also kind of funny.

  A small smile appeared on Adam's face without him meaning to. It was silly, but also kind of nice to see someone so full of life. He shook his head a little, still smiling.

  "I don't think now is the right time for that," he answered lightly.

  Before Nova could say anything else, maybe challenge Adam right then and there, Oliver's hand quickly smacked him on the back of the head.

  Thwack.

  It wasn't too hard, but Nova flinched like it was, letting out a little yelp and rubbing the spot with a pout. He mumbled something that sounded like, "Old man, always spoiling the fun..."

  "Honestly, Nova! How many times have I told you not to say things like that right now!" Oliver scolded. He sounded annoyed, but you could tell he cared about his son.

  He sighed, like dealing with Nova was tiring. Then he turned back to Adam, looking sorry again.

  "I apologize for my younger son. He's… well, he's a handful. He has a lot of energy and sometimes doesn't think before he speaks."

  Adam raised one hand to show it was okay, waving away the apology. Nova's comment was weirdly timed, but it didn't seem mean, just unfiltered.

  "It's alright," he said, meaning it. "I wasn't offended. He seems... lively."

  Right after that, things changed around them. More villagers started coming closer. They were drawn by the quiet after the fight and saw their chief talking to the Adam.

  They moved slowly at first, their bare feet quiet on the dusty, messy ground. They looked at Adam with respect and thanks in their eyes.

  They made a half-circle around Adam and Oliver, keeping a polite distance but wanting to be close and hear what was happening.

  Their clothes were torn, either from the fight or maybe just because they were poor. Their faces were still pale and showed how tired they were from everything that happened.

  They had dirt smudges on their skin. But even though they looked worn out, their eyes had a spark again. Their shoulders, which had been slumped down in sadness, seemed a little straighter.

  You could feel that their spirits were lifted now that the scary time was over. The air felt lighter, filled with hope instead of fear.

  "Our village’s savior," whispered an older woman. Her voice shook a little with emotion. Other villagers murmured softly, agreeing with her. Another elder, who was leaning on a stick he was using as a crutch, spoke up. His voice was scratchy but clear.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Adam… thank you. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for saving us from that darkness. Because of that… we want to have a celebration for you. A feast! It won't be much, because of what happened, but we have to show you how thankful we are."

  The idea spread through the crowd. People nodded and looked hopeful. They really wanted to give Adam something to thank him for saving them.

  Adam immediately put up both hands to stop them, shaking his head. A feast? He couldn't stay. It felt impossible.

  "No, no… please," he said, his voice kind but firm.

  "I appreciate it, really I do, but I don’t have time for that. I can't stay. I have to go to the city of Krito. It’s important. My sister is waiting for me there." Mentioning his sister made it clear he had a very good reason to leave.

  You could see the disappointment wash over the villagers. Their shoulders dropped again, and the new light in their eyes dimmed a bit. Hopeful smiles turned into sad understanding.

  They knew what urgent meant, but they really wanted to thank the person who saved them.

  Adam saw how they felt right away. He felt bad for disappointing them. As he looked past them at their sad faces, he really saw how much damage Brand had done to their village.

  Houses that were probably simple but strong were now just piles of broken wood and smashed pottery. Walls were cracked or totally knocked down.

  The main path through the village had big cracks in it and was covered in trash – stones, broken tools, pieces of things from their daily lives, all messed up.

  Besides the broken buildings, he saw how the people were hurt too – cuts and bruises were still visible, some people still looked scared, and they jumped if there was a sudden noise. They were free, but they were hurt, inside and out.

  Adam turned back to Oliver, looking thoughtful. He couldn't stay for a feast, but leaving them like this felt wrong. There was something he could do.

  "But," he said calmly, getting their attention again, "before I leave, there’s something else I need to do here."

  Oliver, James, Nova, and the villagers closest to them looked at Adam, confused. What else could he need to do? He had already beaten the monster that controlled them.

  Adam took a few steps back, making some space around him. Behind him, Sophia stood quietly watching. She was like a calm presence he could feel even without looking at her.

  He quickly looked at the ruined village, then focused his mind. Knowing Sophia would understand, Adam knelt down. The rough, broken ground pressed against his knees.

  He reached out one hand, palm down, and gently touched the dirt.

  He closed his eyes for a second to concentrate. He gathered the energy inside him, the power he had gained over two long years of hard training and difficult tests.

  In a low, steady voice, he whispered one word in English. None of the villagers understood the language, which made it sound even more like a magic spell: “Restore.”

  As soon as he said the word, it was like turning a key in a lock. A bright stream of pure blue energy flowed out from his hand, right into the cracked ground.

  It didn't just soak in; it spread out like a glowing blue wave, like ripples of light moving across the dirt.

  The wave of energy was silent but incredibly strong. It instantly split into many smaller streams of light.

  Each stream seemed to know where to go, racing through the village streets, moving around piles of junk, flowing toward every broken thing.

  What happened next was amazing and hard to believe.

  The streams of blue light wrapped around the broken wooden houses. The villagers stared, unable to believe their eyes.

  Broken pieces of wood flew back together, fitting perfectly like time was going backward. Smashed glass from windows flowed like liquid light and turned back into solid windows.

  Walls that had fallen down rose up from the piles of rubble. Bricks and stones lifted up and clicked back into place, and it looked like the mortar between them just reappeared.

  Roofs fixed themselves, holes disappeared as tiles and straw moved back where they belonged.

  But the magic light didn't just fix the buildings. As it filled the ground and houses, soft streams of blue light gently lifted off the ground and swirled around the villagers themselves.

  It wrapped around their arms, legs, bodies, and heads like bandages made of pure light. Wherever the light touched, people were healed. Deep cuts closed up, leaving only thin white lines that quickly faded away completely.

  Dark bruises disappeared like they were wiped off with a magic cloth. Villagers who had been holding sore ribs or hurt arms suddenly felt the pain disappear, replaced by a nice warmth.

  Injuries inside their bodies, the ones you couldn't see but hurt a lot, were healed by the gentle magic. Even the older people, who had aches and pains that were made worse by the attack, felt relief wash over them.

  They stood up straighter, breathing became easier, and the constant pain left their bodies. They felt younger and stronger than they had in years.

  Adam kept his hand on the ground, holding the spell. He breathed steadily, guiding the energy with his thoughts. The blue light pulsed evenly, strong and steady, for a whole minute.

  He felt the energy drain from him; it took a lot of power. But he could handle it. Two years ago, doing something like this might have made him pass out.

  But now, because of his training and how much stronger he was, he could do this huge act of fixing and healing without collapsing.

  He felt tired, a deep tiredness in his bones, but he stayed standing when he finally let out a long breath and lifted his hand from the ground.

  The blue light slowly faded away, sinking back into the earth or disappearing into the air like mist in the morning.

  Everything was different.

  The streets were smooth again, the cracks gone, the mess cleaned up. Houses stood tall and looked perfect, like nothing bad had ever happened.

  They might have even looked cleaner and stronger than before. Things like wooden buckets, farming tools, and fences that had been broken or thrown around were fixed and back in their places.

  The village looked peaceful and whole, like it had been born again.

  Even though using the spell had taken a lot of his energy and left him feeling tired inside, Adam looked calm on the outside. He slowly stood up and brushed the dust off his pants.

  Oliver and the villagers were completely amazed. They stared with their mouths open at their perfectly fixed homes.

  They looked down at their own bodies, touching skin that was no longer cut or bruised, moving arms and legs that didn't hurt anymore. It was unbelievable. For a few seconds, everyone was silent, stunned.

  Then, they started making sounds – gasps of wonder, soft crying from happiness, and a quiet cheer that came from deep inside them. Every face shone with joy and huge admiration, all looking at Adam.

  Oliver couldn't stop staring at the young man who had not only saved their lives but had also magically fixed their homes and healed their bodies with one incredible act of power.

  Deep in the old chief’s heart, huge respect and admiration grew into something even stronger, almost like worship.

  Oliver stepped forward again. He stood even straighter and looked at Adam with more respect than before. The friendly, casual way he spoke earlier was gone. Now he sounded very serious and formal.

  "Mr. Adam," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Savior of our village… healer… creator… I have one more thing to ask. A very serious request."

  Adam, still feeling a bit tired from the magic, stepped closer and met Oliver’s intense look. He felt a little wary. "If I can do it, and if it's something reasonable, I will think about it," he replied calmly.

  Oliver put one hand firmly behind his back. It looked like a very formal thing to do. He looked straight into Adam’s eyes, his face completely serious.

  "Please," he said, his voice strong with belief, "take my younger son, Nova, with you when you leave. Let him serve you. Let him learn from you. This isn't just my request—it is a gift from our whole village. It's a way for us to show how thankful we are, forever."

  Adam was shocked. He really didn't expect this at all. Take Nova? The loud kid who loved fighting? His first thought was to say no right away. His own journey was dangerous.

  He was going to Krito, where he didn't know what dangers waited. He had his own secrets and things he needed to do. Having someone follow him, especially someone as energetic as Nova, seemed like it would just cause problems.

  But before Adam could even think of a polite way to say no, Nova himself ran forward from behind his father and brother. His face was shining with pure excitement and happiness. He stopped right in front of Adam, almost shaking with energy.

  "Yes! Master Adam! Please take me! I’ll be the best servant you ever had! I’m strong, I learn quickly, and I won’t cause trouble… much! I’m your servant starting today!" He looked incredibly happy about the idea.

  Adam raised both his hands again, palms out, like he was trying to physically stop all this excitement and responsibility coming at him. "Wait, wait—" he started, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I don't need a servant. My journey is dangerous, I don't know what will happen—"

  His words were almost ignored. Not because people were loud, but because every single villager was staring at him with so much hope. They looked at him with pleading eyes, silently supporting their chief's request.

  Their combined stare felt heavy, full of expectation and thanks. And Oliver still looked completely determined. He hadn't changed his mind at all.

  "This is our village’s gift to you, Mr. Adam," Oliver said again, firmly. His voice made it clear this wasn't just a suggestion.

  "We are a warrior village. It's in our history, even if we live peacefully now. When we make a promise like this, offer a gift like this… we do not take it back. It's about our honor. If you refuse him, it's like refusing our thanks, refusing our promise."

  Adam let out a long, quiet sigh. This was… difficult. He looked at Nova’s eager, hopeful face, which practically glowed with excitement. He glanced at all the villagers behind Nova, their faces silently begging him to accept this gift of thanks.

  Finally, he looked back at Oliver. The chief's determined expression showed that this was important to their culture, something they had to do. Adam knew, somehow, that arguing more would just offend them and maybe ruin the good feelings he h