CHAPTER 226: CHAPTER 225: SHADOWS IN THE SWAMP

Lumberling then turned to Liraeth.

"How is it? What do you think of this place?"

Her eyes wandered over the village, human and monster children still laughing as they played near the houses.

"It’s beautiful here," she said at last. "There are... a lot of things I find strange. But Jen has been teaching me about them."

"I’m glad you like it here."

"I do," she admitted with a small nod.

"Want to walk with me?"

She hesitated, glancing at the sky. "It’s already turning dark."

"That’s better," he said with a faint grin. Then, in a gesture, he extended his hand as though asking her for a dance.

Liraeth blinked, color rising to her cheeks. After a moment, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her. Together, they walked slowly through the village streets, fingers intertwined.

As they walked through the village, dusk settling in, the first lamp sputtered to life with a soft pop of flame. A warm glow pushed back the shadows, spilling across the cobblestones. Then another lit, then another, like fireflies chasing each other down the street.

Liraeth slowed, her breath catching. Her eyes shimmered, wide and unblinking, as though she’d stepped into a dream.

She gasped, letting out a startled yelp. "W-what are those shiny things? Jewels?"

Lumberling burst out laughing, the sound drawing a playful pout from her.

"Sorry," he said, trying to stifle his grin. "They’re not jewels. Those are streetlights. They run on something called electricity."

"Electricity?" She tilted her head, curiosity lighting her eyes.

He slowed his pace. "Think of it like... lightning in a bottle. Instead of striking once, we guide it through wires, and it makes things glow or move. That’s what powers these lamps."

Her mouth fell open slightly. "Lightning... in a bottle?"

"Exactly." He chuckled. "Only less dangerous. And prettier."

Liraeth’s gaze returned to the glowing lamps, wonder clear on her face. "They’re beautiful... So these are the products you want me to sell?"

"Yes." Lumberling’s tone softened. His funds were dwindling, helping tens of thousands of refugees had drained most of his resources. And the elves had yet to return. But if Liraeth handled the selling... he could keep things steady.

She reached out, brushing her fingers along one of the lamp posts. The faint glow reflected in her eyes, thoughtful. "This... this would fetch a lot."

"I know." He gave her hand a small squeeze, letting out a quiet sigh. "Help me sell them, Liraeth. I’m close to being broke now."

Her head tilted, lips curving with a hint of amusement. "Broke? But why don’t you sell it yourself? Even without me, plenty of people would be willing to pay for this."

He gave a little shrug, the corner of his mouth quirking. "If I have someone capable, then why do I need to do it myself?"

She frowned at him, half playful, half serious. "You really like passing your work to others."

"Nope," he said quickly, shaking his head with a grin. "I just know things will go smoothly if they’re in your hands. That’s not passing work, it’s... trusting you."

Liraeth blinked, her frown easing into something softer. For a moment she only looked at him, then her expression warmed, tender in a way she rarely showed. "You’re impossible," she murmured, her hand lingering against his. "But... thank you."

Lumberling chuckled under his breath, "I should be the one saying that."

She gave him a light nudge on the shoulder, shaking her head with a faint smile.

The night deepened as they continued their walk, the warm glow of the lamps stretching behind them. Neither spoke much more, but the quiet between them felt less like silence and more like a bond weaving tighter with every step.

...

The next day, Lumberling made his way to the southern swamps where the lizardmen had made their home. Mist clung to the water, and the air was thick with the smell of moss and damp earth.

He hadn’t seen them since they were hatchlings.

"My Lord." Karnark stepped forward, fist to chest in salute the moment he saw Lumberling.

At his call, several lizardmen poked their heads above the water, blinking curiously.

"Everyone, out from the swamp and meet our Lord," Karnark voice echoing across the still water.

One by one, they waded out. They had grown, taller, broader, their green scales gleaming faintly under the sun. Soon, dozens of them stood in the shallow water, their eyes narrowing at the sight of the human before them. Forty-two in total.

A murmur rippled through the group. Some looked puzzled, others evaluating him.

A bulkier lizardman stepped forward with a grin that showed sharp teeth. "Master Karnark, if I beat him, do I become the Lord instead?"

The swamp stirred as some of the others hissed in agreement.

Karnark’s eyes flared. He snapped his fist against the water, sending a splash that made several of them flinch. "Watch your tongues! He is our Lord, the one that saved your life and spared you, do not speak of him so carelessly!"

"But look at him," one of the younger ones said. "He looks weak."

Karnark turned, his face strained with frustration and embarrassment. "I apologize, my Lord I failed to discipline them properly. Forgive their insolence they know nothing of you... they are still ignorant and foolish."

Lumberling only smiled faintly, unbothered. "It’s fine. Let them speak. They’ll see in time."

The ring of lizardmen jeered around him, their voices a mix of guttural hisses.

Their chaos built and swelled, taunts overlapping, bodies leaning forward, the scent of heat and musk thick in the air.

Just then, the water rippled as the last figure rose from the swamp. He was different from the rest, his scales were deep black, almost glossy in the dim light, unlike the green that covered the rest. The moment he emerged, the chatter stopped.

The other lizardmen instinctively stepped aside, giving him space as he walked forward. His movements were calm, deliberate, and his eyes, dark and sharp, locked onto Lumberling’s.