The remaining lizardmen froze.
Not because they were weak—but because they didn't understand what they were facing.
They didn't know how many enemies surrounded them.
Didn't know where the attacks had come from.
Didn't know if another spell would fall from the sky.
Fear locked them in place.
I didn't give them time to recover.
I moved.
The first lizardman barely reacted before my blade took his head clean off. The body collapsed into the swamp with a heavy splash, and that finally broke the others free of their shock—but by then it was already too late.
They attacked without coordination. No formation. No signals.
A spear thrust came in wide and sloppy. I stepped inside the range and drove my sword straight through the spearman's heart.
He fell without a sound.
A swordsman rushed next, swinging wildly. I ducked under the blade and cut upward—from stomach to throat. He dropped immediately.
The last lizardman hesitated.
That moment of doubt sealed his fate.
As he tried to pull back, I slid sideways, severed the arm holding his sword, then thrust my blade into his chest. His scream cut off mid-breath.
Silence returned to the swamp.
I stood still, listening.
Nothing moved.
Only then did I turn back toward Maria and Paul.
Before approaching, I raised my voice.
"It's me."
Paul flinched, then lowered my bow. His hands were shaking. For someone who had never fought before, he'd held himself together longer than most.
Maria was on her knees.
Her breathing was shallow. Sweat soaked her clothes, and her shoulders trembled as if she were cold. Mana exhaustion wasn't just emptiness—it felt like something had been torn out and left raw.
Paul was using basic healing to keep her upright. It eased the strain, but it couldn't restore what she'd spent.
Her voice was barely audible.
"…Did it work?"
"Yes," I said. "It worked."
That seemed to be the only thing keeping her conscious.
After several minutes, Maria managed to stand—unsteady, but awake.
We moved toward the colony slowly, with me in the lead.
I smelled it before I saw anything.
Burnt wood.
Scorched oil.
Charred flesh carried on damp swamp air.
The closer we got, the stronger it became.
Inside the colony, Ron, Sam, and Niles were already there.
Sam leaned on his sword, breathing heavily but upright. Ron was finishing off a wounded lizardman that had tried to crawl away. Niles stood farther back, bow drawn, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.
No one celebrated.
We camped inside the ruined colony. Between the lingering mana, blood, and firelight, no beasts dared come close.
While we ate, Niles finally spoke.
"They didn't flee," he said calmly. "They didn't know our numbers. Staying inside felt safer than running blind into the swamp."
He poked at the fire with a stick.
"The knight tried to rally them. Gave orders. Tried to pull them back into formation."
Ron snorted softly.
"There was also a mage," Niles continued. "Burned badly. He tried to counter Maria's spell—water magic, unstable. Not enough power."
Niles' eyes lifted briefly.
"He didn't finish the chant."
No one needed to ask how.
"The knight kept shouting even after that," Niles added. "That's when Ron and Sam reached him."
Sam exhaled slowly, jaw tight.
"He was still standing. Barely."
Ron nodded.
"Not after."
After that, Ron and Sam had moved carefully through the colony. Any lizardman that moved was killed. Any that played dead was checked twice. I hadn't seen it—but I didn't doubt it.
Niles confirmed it.
"No survivors. No tracks leaving the area."
Only then did we allow ourselves to rest.
By morning, we prepared to leave.
I asked if I could take some lizardman meat. I didn't explain fully—only mentioned my mount's diet. Ron laughed and waved me on. Along with the meat, we collected webbed feet as proof of the hunt.
As we left the colony behind, I paused once.
Not in pride.
In understanding.
Strength wasn't about winning battles.
It was about surviving what followed.
We reached the village before noon. Ron went ahead to speak with the village head.
As the danger finally slipped away, reality returned—and with it, dread.
Duracal.
I hadn't informed him.
Not about the mission.
I sighed.
The scolding would be brutal.
Still… I found myself looking forward to seeing Rusty again.
I'd brought him something new.