CHAPTER 40: CH 40: RESCUE MISSION - PART 1

The faint warmth of the valley lingered into evening, soft grass rustling under a cool breeze while the smell of cooked food drifted through the air.

After the contracts were sealed, Lucian stood before the three freed men, his voice calm but sharp.

"Go. Bring your families here. But make sure no one follows you."

The oldest of them chuckled, scratching at the rope burns on his wrists.

"No need to worry about that, kid. We failed the mission. Returned empty-handed. The higher-ups won’t forgive us. They’ll toss us out and our families with us. If anything, you’ve already done us a favor."

His laugh carried bitterness, but there was relief in it too.

Lucian nodded.

"Then don’t waste time."

They bowed quickly before hurrying off toward Everette settlement, determination burning in their steps.

Behind them, Jamie clicked her tongue.

"Idiots. All of them. Throwing away years of clawing their way up just like that."

Mira, who’d been sitting cross-legged nearby, looked up with a frown.

"From where I’m standing, you’re the fool. Why fight so hard for scraps when you could have food and shelter right here? At least they chose something real. You’re the one clinging to empty pride."

Jamie’s eyes narrowed, fury flashing in them. She opened her mouth, but the low growls of the wolf pups around Mira froze her in place.

The beasts bared their teeth, eyes gleaming with warning. Instinct screamed at her not to take a step closer, and for once, Jamie stayed silent.

Lucian broke the tension with a single command.

"Back to work. If more people are coming, we’ll need more space, more food, and stronger defenses. No excuses."

Berry groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"Expanding the territory already, huh? You’re going to work us to the bone."

Mira sighed dramatically but grinned.

"Guess that means more room to plant strawberries."

Lucian ignored their complaints, already turning away. His mind was elsewhere. The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long, and yet the men hadn’t returned.

Berry finally stepped closer, worry edging into his voice.

"Lucian, maybe we should send someone to check on them. It’s getting late."

Jamie laughed coldly, leaning back against the cage.

"Hah! Duped, the lot of you. They’re not coming back. Why would they? You really think anyone’s dumb enough to risk dragging their family into this mess?"

Lucian didn’t so much as glance at her. His golden eyes fixed on the horizon, calm as ever.

"They’ll come back. But if they don’t..."

His voice dropped, quiet but heavy.

"...I’ll bring them back myself."

Berry straightened, alarm flashing in his face.

"Wait, you mean—"

"I’ll leave the valley in your hands. Keep everything running. I won’t be long."

Lucian’s tone left no room for argument.

The wolves padded up behind him, their tails swaying as though they already knew what was about to happen.

The stormy winds outside the valley howled faintly in the distance, as if calling him forward.

Lucian stepped into the twilight, ready to drag his future workers back with his own hands.

______

Snow crunched under Lucian’s boots as he left the valley behind, a handful of fairies floating at his side, their faint glow cutting through the evening frost.

The boy’s small figure moved steadily, his expression cold and unreadable, even as the wind howled like a wounded beast.

The fairies whispered among themselves, wings fluttering anxiously, but they obeyed his pace. It didn’t take Lucian long to find the illusion barrier they had set earlier.

To anyone else, it would appear as an endless stretch of barren white, impossible to cross.

But Lucian stepped forward without hesitation, and the magic bent like a curtain parting before him.

Once beyond the protection of the valley, he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling for the threads of his contracts.

Faint pulses stirred in the distance, weak but steady—like lanterns flickering in a storm. His gaze sharpened in that direction, and he set off.

After some time, the landscape shifted. What first appeared as an endless wall came into view, towering and gray, stretching so far in both directions that it seemed to touch the horizon.

A crude attempt at defense, Lucian thought. He traced its length until his sharp eyes caught something—a small opening near the bottom, barely wide enough for a child to squeeze through.

Without hesitation, he slipped into the gap, brushing dirt from his clothes once he was on the other side.

The sight before him was grim.

Beyond the wall lay a city, if one could call it that. Broken structures leaned against one another like tired old men.

Shacks patched together with rusted metal and rotting wood lined the narrow paths, the ground beneath them turned to filth by years of neglect.

A sour stench of rot and unwashed bodies lingered in the air.

People shuffled through the streets like shadows. Their skin clung to their bones, eyes hollow, lips cracked from thirst.

Hunger had carved lines across their faces that no age could explain.

Their clothes were tattered rags, thin against the biting cold, and still, they dragged themselves forward as though each step cost them what little strength they had left.

Lucian’s sharp gaze swept across them. These weren’t soldiers, nor were they hunters sent to gather resources.

No—these were the regular citizens. The ones without power, without influence, without even the faintest ability to fight for themselves.

And because of that, they were left here to wither.

He could see the truth written across their frames—starved bodies, brittle bones, despair in every hollow stare.

"So this is Everette Settlement."

Lucian muttered under his breath, his tone flat, though his mind stirred.

The fairies hovered closer to him, their small lights wavering. One of them whispered.

"It’s so... empty, Master. They look like husks."

Lucian’s expression didn’t change, but his thoughts sharpened.

’If this is how they treat their own people, then those who serve in their ranks must be nothing more than tools to throw away.’

And tools, he knew, were easy to break—and easier still to take.