Chapter 139: Chapter 139 - Tyrant ( Part 2 )
The news spread through Ashvale before the sunrise.
Those three strangers, who promised to fight against Lord Barthus, did not leave during the night.
They were still here.
For the villagers, that was enough to consider it as some kind of miracle.
For many years, there were plenty of travelers in the mining village.
There were those who felt pity for them.
Or those who brought words of comfort.
And those who promised to get them justice.
However, when they found out that Barthus had hundreds of soldiers...
They always disappeared before dawn.
Jennie...
Remained.
The morning air was cold, but the villagers cautiously started gathering in the village square.
Everyone waited for the announcement of some kind of attack on Greymane Castle.
Or even for a personal challenge to Lord Barthus before sunset.
However...
Jennie unrolled the roughly sketched map of the village on the old wooden table.
She silently inspected it.
Roxy blinked.
"...Aren’t we attacking the castle?"
Jennie shook her head.
"Not yet."
Snow tilted his head.
"No?"
Jennie pointed on several small marks on the map.
"Inspect it carefully."
"The roads are badly damaged."
"The wells require repairs."
"The villagers’ houses are in bad condition."
"And they are tired."
"If we start the battle now..."
"They will suffer first."
Silence fell in the square.
Jennie looked at the villagers.
"We came here to help them."
"Not to put them in the middle of another war."
Harold slowly smiled.
For the first time in many years...
Someone cared about the needs of the village.
And not about the demands of the enemy.
Jennie loudly clapped her hands.
"Let’s start."
Everyone just looked at her.
"...Start with what?"
Jennie smiled.
"With rebuilding."
The first house belonged to an elderly widow, whose name was Clara.
The previous winter destroyed half of the roof of her house.
The rain got inside her bedroom during every storm.
She did not have the strength and the money to fix it.
Jennie silently climbed up the roof.
With the help of timber, provided by the neighbors, she started repairing the broken roof.
Her motions were unbelievable accurate.
She managed to balance on the narrow wooden frame easily, carrying heavy logs on one shoulder.
Hammer.
Nail.
Board.
Everything fitted perfectly.
After an hour...
The roof looked even better than it was when it was first created.
Clara covered her mouth.
"...It is beautiful."
Jennie jumped down.
"There."
"No more leaks."
The old woman hugged her suddenly.
Jennie froze.
"I..."
"My clothes are covered with dust."
"I don’t care."
Clara’s eyes filled with tears.
"...Thank you."
Jennie awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.
"...You are welcome."
Snow stood near and said:
"She never knows what to do when people hug her."
Roxy laughed.
"She really doesn’t."
Jennie blushed a bit.
"I know how hugs work."
"You obviously don’t."
While Jennie repaired roofs...
Snow decided to find another kind of work.
Several weeks ago, a landslide blocked the main road which led into Ashvale.
The merchants rarely visited there.
The food became rare.
Snow stood before the mountain of fallen stones.
The villagers were nervous.
"...That had been there for months."
Snow stretched lazily.
"I will move it."
Harold blinked.
"...How?"
Snow returned to his true Divine Beast form.
The earth trembled.
The white light surrounded him.
His giant form towered over the mountains itself.
Nine magnificent tails spread behind him like the clouds.
Children gasped.
The adults kept silent.
Snow just yawned.
And then...
He lowered one huge paw.
BOOM!
The earth shook.
Hundreds of huge rocks were removed from the road as if they were not heavy at all.
Another swipe.
The trees blocking the road were gently removed.
In a few minutes...
The road that had been blocked for months was clear now.
Snow returned to his smaller form.
"...Finished."
Everyone just stared.
One little boy raised his hand.
"Mister Wolf..."
"Yes?"
"...You are amazing."
Snow puffed out his chest proudly.
"I know."
Jennie smiled.
"He’ll be unbearable for the rest of the day."
"I heard that."
"You were supposed to."
Meanwhile...
Roxy walked from house to house with her wooden staff.
The village healer was elderly.
The medicine ran out.
There were many injured people.
And there were many people who suffered from some illness as a result of working in the mines for years.
Roxy kneeled next to an elderly miner whose lungs were weak because of the coal dust he breathed.
She gently touched his chest with her hand.
The golden mana started to flow from her fingertips.
Unlike the chaotic magic she had controlled badly before...
The spells moved smoothly now.
The soft light appeared around the old man.
He suddenly stopped coughing.
His breathing became stable.
"...I..."
"I can breathe."
Roxy smiled.
"Take it easy."
"You will still need rest."
The old miner looked at her in amazement.
"I hadn’t taken a full breath for ten years."
The tears appeared in his eyes.
"Thank you..."
Word spread quickly.
Soon...
The long queue formed in front of the village clinic.
There were children with fever.
Injured workers.
Women suffering from achy joints.
Roxy cured everyone of them.
She did it patiently.
Without demanding any payment.
Jennie walked by carrying the wooden planks.
"You should rest."
Roxy smiled.
"So should you."
"...Fair."
They both laughed.
During the following days...
Ashvale changed slowly.
The fences that collapsed were fixed.
The damaged wells were repaired.
The cleared road let merchants enter the village again.
The fresh vegetables.
The medicines.
The warm blankets.
The simple things that were luxury for so long finally returned.
Children stopped spending every evening carrying the water because the wells were repaired.
The streets cleaned gradually.
The gardens flourished.
For the first time in many years...
People decorated their homes with flowers.
Not because they had to.
Because they wanted it.
One afternoon...
Jennie heard laughter.
She stopped nailing another roof.
The children were running in the square.
Playing tag.
One little girl held a wooden doll.
Another chased butterflies.
The sound rang all through the village.
Roxy smiled.
"...They weren’t laughing when we came."
Jennie silently observed them.
"No."
"They weren’t."
Snow lied comfortably under the tree.
"They are still afraid."
"But..."
He closed one eye.
"They remember how to smile."
Harold approached slowly.
"I have been living here for seventy years."
"I cannot remember the time when the village felt like this."
He looked around.
The smoke peacefully rose from the chimneys.
The neighbors worked together repairing the houses.
The children played without looking over their shoulder every few seconds.
"It feels..."
He looked for the word.
"...Alive."
Jennie softly smiled.
"It always was."
"It just forgot."
Harold nodded.
"Perhaps."
"But you reminded us."
Jennie shook her head.
"No."
"You reminded each other."
"We just helped."
That evening, the villagers gathered in the square.
Someone started cooking stew.
Another family baked the fresh bread.
The musicians found their old instruments at home.
The soft music was floating through the mountain air.
People laughed.
Discussed.
Shared the meal.
Even those who had already lost hope found themselves smiling.
Roxy looked around the square.
"I almost forgot..."
"What?"
"...What happiness looks like."
Jennie gave her the bowl with stew.
"Then remember it."
Roxy accepted it with a smile.
"I will."
Jennie looked at the silhouette of Greymane Castle standing high over the valley.
Its banners were proudly flying.
Its walls remained intact.
Lord Barthus was still alive.
At least now.
However, under this mountain...
Much more dangerous thing to the tyrant than swords or magic grew.
The hope.
And once it returned to the hearts of people...
The fear could not rule them forever.
The changes in Ashvale were tiny.
There was a fixed roof.
There was a road that was cleaned.
There was a dinner that neighbors had together.
There was laughter of children on the squares.
None of them could defeat Lord Barthus.
None of them could destroy Greymane Castle.
But ...
They changed something else.
Their hearts.
Three days passed after Jennie and others came to help the village.
Ashvale seemed to look differently.
Not that it became rich.
But it did not seem to be abandoned anymore.
The broken fences were repaired.
The well, that was cracked and was losing water before, flowed with pure mountain water.
New vegetables appeared in the market after Snow fixed the trade road.
Smoke was rising from chimneys.
For the first time in years ...
The village smelled of fresh bread.
Silently Jennie brought some firewood to the hut of an old couple.
While passing through the square ...
She heard laughter.
Laughter.
Not those smiles that people were forcing on their faces to not get punished.
Children were playing around the old fountain.
A little girl was showing her wooden doll that was carved by the carpenter.
Snow was sleeping under a tree.
"... They are loud."
Jennie smiled.
"They are children."
"They are supposed to."
Snow closed one eye.
"... I suppose."
Meanwhile ...
Roxy turned the abandoned storage-house into the clinic.
Every morning ...
Villagers gathered outside before sunrise.
Some people had old injuries.
Some got sick working in the mines for years.
One after another ...
Roxy healed them.
Her magic shone softly, healing the wounds and lowering the fever.
An old woman was flexing her hands in surprise.
"... The pain is gone."
Roxy smiled.
"You still need to rest."
"I haven’t been able to knit for six years."
Tears appeared in the eyes of the old lady.
"My granddaughter wanted a scarf."
"Now..."
"I can make one."
Roxy giggled.
"I will expect to see it."
Soon ...
Everyone called her ...
"The Saint of Ashvale."
Every time when she heard it ...
Roxy felt embarrassed.
"I am not a saint."
Jennie looked up fixing the window.
"No."
"You are Roxy."
"I think that it is better."
Roxy smiled.
"... Thank you."
As the days passed ...
Something unusual happened.
People stopped whispering.
At first ...
It was only a small talk.
An old miner muttered silently,
"Barthus has gone too far."
Instead of everyone looking around in fear ...
Another miner agreed,
"He has."
A baker added,
"My son should not have to work underground."
Nobody stopped him.
A farmer muttered quietly,
"We deserve better."
Someone replied,
"We always did."
The talk stayed quiet.
But it did not disappear anymore.
The fear began to crack.
That afternoon ...
Jennie saw how several children were drawing pictures using the charcoal near the fountain.
One little boy raised his drawing.
It was a huge white wolf.
Snow looked up.
"... Why am I so fat?"
The boy blinked.
"You are fluffy."
"I am majestic."
"You are fluffy and majestic."
Snow pondered a bit.
"... I allow it."
The children laughed out loud.
Jennie giggled quietly.
Another little girl showed her drawing.
It was Roxy surrounded by shining lights.
"Pretty."
Roxy smiled warmly.
"Thank you."
Finally ...
A shy little girl showed her drawing to Jennie.
It was a silver-haired girl repairing a broken house.
Above it ...
With clumsy handwriting ...
The words said:
Thank you.
Jennie looked at it for some time.
Then carefully folded the paper.
"I will keep this."
The little girl grinned brightly.
That evening ...
The villagers gathered in the square again.
Unlike the previous evenings ...
Nobody rushed home when the darkness fell.
The musicians were playing the old songs that had not been heard for years.
Someone started dancing.
Children followed.
Even the elderly were laughing at the performance.
Harold silently came up to Jennie.
"I have been thinking."
Jennie looked at him.
"About what?"
The taxes.
Jennie waited.
Harold took a deep breath.
"For years..."
"We have simply paid whatever Barthus demanded."
"We never questioned it."
Jennie did not interrupt.
Harold looked around the square.
"But now..."
"I wonder..."
"... why?"
Jennie smiled gently.
"That is a very important question."
Harold nodded slowly.
"I think..."
"We have forgotten that we were people."
"We started believing that we are nothing but the workers."
Snow listened silently.
The old man was not done yet.
"I saw how children laughed today."
"They have already stopped living like slaves."
"Perhaps..."
"It is time for us to remember how."
The next morning ...
The market of the village was opened earlier than usually.
Jennie noticed that something had changed.
People talked openly.
Not whispered.
Not hid.
Spoke.
The blacksmith hit his hammer on the anvil.
"I am tired of Greymane taking everything."
Another man agreed,
"So am I."
A woman with vegetables joined the discussion.
"My daughter deserves a better future."
An old miner smiled.
"Then let’s build one."
Nearby ...
Young workers gathered.
"We are more in numbers."
"They only rule us because we are afraid."
"But ..."
"What if we are not afraid anymore?"
The words were spreading from one person to another.
Like a tiny flame.
Nobody yelled.
Nobody called for the war.
But everyone ...
Begun to stand a bit straighter.
Looked each other in the eyes.
Smiled easier.
The hope quietly returned.
Roxy looked at all of this amazed.
"... We did not tell them to revolt."
Jennie shook her head.
"No."
"They decided it by themselves."
Snow stretched out in the shade.
"Funny."
"What is?"
"I have seen many kingdoms that were destroyed by huge armies."
He looked at the smiling villagers.
"But I have seen tyrants falling ..."
"... because the ordinary people remember that they do not deserve suffering."
Jennie nodded.
"The hope spreads."
Roxy smiled.
"Faster than the fear."
Jennie looked at the Greymane Castle that stood proudly among the mountains.
The castle looked as proud as always.
The soldiers were walking along the walls of the castle.
The banners were waving in the wind.
Lord Barthus thought that the village below was broken.
Obeying.
Useless.
He did not know that, beneath his mountain ...
The biggest threat for his rule was already born.
Not a legendary sword.
Not the ancient magic.
Not a Divine Beast.
But something much stronger.
A village that remembered how to hope.
And once the hope rooted in people’s hearts ...
Even the most powerful chains could not hold them forever.
