Chapter 24 Peace Returns To the Forest （1）
As I stood before the mirror, I froze. My reflection stared back at me, and for the first time, I noticed it—just a small streak of white running through my hair. I leaned closer, brushing my fingers through the strands with a frown.
“…When did this happen?” I muttered under my breath.
Before I could dwell on it, the door creaked open. Sylendra stepped in, balancing a wooden tray in her arms. The smell of freshly baked bread and warm stew filled the air. She flashed me a gentle smile.
“Hey, food’s ready.”
I turned toward her and quickly straightened up, forcing a smile of my own. “Ah—thanks. I appreciate it.”
She set the tray on the table beside me. I grabbed it carefully and began eating. The first bite made me realize just how empty my stomach was—rich broth and soft vegetables warmed me from the inside out.
Sylendra lingered a moment, watching me with that same small smile, then spoke. “Well, I’ll leave you here to rest a bit longer. The villagers still need help with the cleaning and rebuilding.”
I nodded between bites. “Sure. Thanks for the food, really.”
She gave a short nod, then slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Silence settled once more, broken only by the clink of the spoon against the bowl.
That’s when I heard it.
“I see that Sylendra is doing well.”
The voice was unmistakable. My entire body jolted, the spoon nearly slipping from my fingers. I whipped my head around, eyes scanning the room.
“Wait a minute… that voice… Goddess? Is that you?”
A soft chuckle followed, echoing in my head rather than my ears. “Yup. It’s me.”
I sat back, wide-eyed. “H-How are you talking to me right now?!”
“Remember when I said you’re like a walking Wi-Fi tower?”
I blinked, thrown off by her casual tone. “…Yeah?”
“Well, with that enormous mana of yours, I can reach out to you whenever I want.”
I frowned, still not convinced. “But… I thought even if I don't need the alter still need to pray to talk to you.”
“Nope,” she replied lightly. “Thanks to the symbol of my blessing that I gave you, I can now contact you directly. Think of it as… hmm…”
I glanced down at the glowing mark on the back of my right hand. The faint sigil pulsed softly with light. “…So this thing is basically like a phone to you, isn’t it?”
“Exactly,” she said, sounding quite pleased with herself.
I let out a slow sigh, shaking my head. “You know, the way you’re talking right now… it’s not very goddess-like.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, pretending to be offended.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Forget I said anything.”
A small laugh rang in my head, playful and mischievous.
Moments later, as I finished the last bite of stew, I leaned back in my chair and asked, “Hey, Goddess… do I really need to speak out loud when talking to you? I mean, I can hear your voice in my head, so can’t I just… think it?”
Her amused tone drifted through my mind. “Not really. You can speak with me just fine in your thoughts. No need to move your lips.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I was just thinking how weird it would look if someone saw me talking to thin air.”
She gave a soft laugh. “That would be… very weird.”
“So, does this ‘call’ of yours just start whenever you feel like it?” I asked.
“Mhm. If I want to talk or ask you something, I can reach you instantly—in the blink of an eye.”
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “Great… so you’re not going to start bothering me whenever you want, right?”
“Bothering? That’s a bit rude!” she replied in a mock-offended tone. “Gods have responsibilities too, you know. I’m not just sitting around waiting to chat with you.”
I winced. “Alright, alright—sorry about that.”
Standing up from the bed, I stretched, shaking the stiffness out of my limbs. My body still ached faintly, but at least I could walk without collapsing. I made my way into the living room, where the mayor sat at a low table, sipping tea with both hands.
He noticed me immediately. His wrinkled face broke into a warm smile. “Ah, Raito. Did you get enough rest?”
“Yes,” I replied with a respectful nod. “I did.”
He placed his cup down, his expression growing solemn. “I never truly got the chance to thank you for saving our village.” Slowly, he rose to his feet and bowed his head deeply. “So please, allow me to express my gratitude.”
I stiffened, taken aback. “P-Please, don’t bow your head to me! I only did what I thought was right.”
The mayor straightened, chuckling softly. “This is my way of thanking you. Don’t think too much of it.”
I scratched my cheek, still flustered. “Even so, it doesn’t feel right to have you bowing to me.”
His laughter echoed warmly through the room, easing the tension.
I cleared my throat. “Well, in that case… I should probably check on the village repairs.”
He nodded in approval. “Go on. The villagers will be glad to see you up and about.”
I walked to the door, pulling it open. The crisp morning air hit me first, carrying with it the mingled scents of sawdust, earth, and smoke from cooking fires. I stepped outside—and the sight that greeted me made my chest tighten.
The village that had once been a battlefield was now alive with determination.
Men and women worked side by side, carrying planks of wood and hauling stones.
Children gathered scraps, while older folk directed repairs with surprising vigor.
Half-shattered homes were being rebuilt—walls rising where gaps once stood, new beams propped up against scorched frames.
Some houses were already nearing completion, their thatched roofs almost finished, smoke curling lazily from freshly repaired chimneys.
Everywhere I looked, there was life and effort. The sounds of hammers striking nails, axes splitting wood, and voices calling orders filled the air. Despite the destruction, the village was slowly but surely being reborn.
I exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “They’re… already rebuilding.”
As I gazed at the villagers working together to rebuild their homes, a familiar voice called out behind me.
“Raito.”
I turned to my left and saw Darruk standing near the wooden stairway, his broad arms crossed as usual. His stern face softened slightly as he looked at me. “Did you get enough rest?”
“Yeah, I did,” I replied with a small nod before making my way down the creaking wooden stairs toward him.
“That’s good to hear,” he said, giving me a firm clap on the shoulder. “Because, if you don’t mind, we could use your help.”
“Sure,” I answered. “What is it?”
Darruk smiled faintly, that rare, approving kind of smile he gave only when he was genuinely relieved. Moments later, he led me through the bustling village and down toward the lake where I had fought the swarm.
The scene that awaited us was surreal. The entire lake was still frozen solid, its glassy surface gleaming under the sun like a sheet of blue crystal. The frost clung stubbornly to the water’s edge, and the villagers kept their distance, whispering in awe.
Darruk gestured toward the icy expanse. “We kind of need you to melt the ice for us.”
I scratched my cheek and gave him a sheepish grin. “Heh… looks like it.”
But before moving, my eyes caught something unusual. At the shoreline, a large pile had been gathered—corpses of the Gloomcroaks, their twisted bodies stacked neatly. Several villagers were busy cutting into them, carefully extracting the glowing mana stones from their chests.
I pointed toward them. “Hey, is that what I think it is?”
Darruk followed my gaze and nodded. “Yeah. The villagers started harvesting the mana stones from the Gloomcroaks… and even from the Molgurath you took down.”
I walked closer, curiosity pulling me in. Beside the growing pile of mana stones, I noticed another collection—a cluster of strange, glowing orbs. They pulsed faintly, like heartbeats sealed in crystal.
That’s it.
The goddess’s voice rang clear in my mind.
(That’s what?) I asked her silently, narrowing my eyes.
Those devices. They’re what the Demon Lord implanted into the Gloomcroaks and the Molgurath.
(You’re sure? They just look like ordinary orbs to me.)
I am certain. Do not underestimate them.
I stared harder, my gut tightening. They didn’t radiate hostility, but something about them felt… off.
“If you want to,” Darruk suddenly spoke up, breaking my focus, “you can take all of it. After all, you did defeat them single-handedly.”
I blinked and looked at him, then back at the pail filled with glowing stones. “Yeah… but I think I’ll just take those orbs over there.”
Darruk raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Are you sure? I mean, they’re beautiful, I’ll give you that, but as far as I can tell they don’t have any value.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll take them off your hands.”
I walked over and began storing the strange orbs into my Item Box one by one. Each vanished with a soft shimmer of light, leaving only the faintest trace of their unnatural glow behind. Minutes passed as I tucked the last one away.
When I finally straightened, I looked back toward the frozen lake—and my breath caught. Sylendra was approaching from across the icy expanse, the two mighty Stone Bears lumbering behind her. Strapped across their broad backs were massive bundles covered in thick cloth.
Whatever they were carrying, it looked important.
As Sylendra and the Stone Bears reached the shore, she lifted her hand in greeting. I waved back and made my way closer, my boots crunching softly over the frosted ground. The two bears lowered their massive frames, their breaths rising in warm clouds against the cold air.
“Looks like the bears didn’t get eaten by the swarm after all,” I said with a half-smile, glancing at the hulking creatures.
Sylendra chuckled lightly, her leafy hair catching the sunlight. “Yes. During the chaos, when they were sent crashing toward the houses, the rubble shielded them. The swarm never noticed.”
“That’s a relief,” I replied. “Glad to know they’re safe.”
She gave a small nod, then tilted her head toward me. “Anyway, did you manage to get enough rest?”
“Sure did,” I answered. “Actually, I was just about to melt the frozen lake.”
Her emerald eyes widened a little. “Really? Well… you might want to hold off for a moment.”
I blinked, confused. “Why’s that?”
With a graceful motion, she pointed toward the Stone Bears. “Because we need to deal with what they’re carrying first.”
Curious, I stepped closer to the great beasts. On their broad backs, secured with thick ropes, were massive blocks of purple ice. They glistened with an eerie sheen, faint mist curling from their surfaces. I furrowed my brows.
“What in the world is this?” I asked, reaching out but stopping short of touching it.
Sylendra’s expression grew serious. “That is the toxin the Gloomcroaks released into the lake.”
My eyes widened. “Wait… it is?”
“Yes,” she explained, folding her arms. “When you froze the lake, you also froze the sections of water that were contaminated. Fortunately, the corruption only spread across the surface layer. If we remove these frozen toxins first, then melt the rest afterward, the lake will remain clean.”
I exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation settling on me. “I see… so if I melted everything without clearing this first, the whole lake would’ve been poisoned.”
Sylendra nodded gravely. “Exactly. The creatures of this forest depend on this water. If it were corrupted, the damage would be irreversible.”
I tightened my fists slightly, then looked back at her. “All right. Where do we start?”