Hello everyone! I am back with another chapter, as well as an announcement. From now on, updates will be every TWO WEEKS. The size of the chapters are pretty big, so it takes a good amount of time to write them. This is so I don't have to rush out bad product, and can make sure each chapter has a good amount of proper content.

Besides that, I will be continuing this story. I already have the next few chapters laid out, so stick around if you're curious to find out what will happen.

Anyhow, here is a bit more about Architect's abilities. This is his arsenal of builder/crafting skills:

Right Tool For The Job: Architect can magically summon a set of tools from his known Trade Skills. It requires 1 hour of uninterrupted concentration, after which the chosen set of tools will remain until this feature is used again on a new tool set.

Architect Trade Skills:

Blacksmithing Tools: Weapon Crafting, Forging, Metallurgy, and Armor Construction

Cartographer's Tools: Map Building, Navigation, and Exploration.

Tinker's Tools: Minor Construction, Machine Building, and Trinket Engineering

Thieves' Tools: Lockpicking, Investigation, and Covering of Minor Tracks in Urban Environments

Alchemist Supplies: Potion-Making, Chemistry, and Arcane Infusions into Products

Jeweler's Tools: Jewel Carving, Jewelry Crafting, Appraisal of Gems, and Material Understanding

Anyhow, that is a bit more info about Architect. Hope you can use this to infer as to what he will do in the world of Rising of the Shield Hero.

Chapter 3: Brave New World

(5 Days Later)

Raphtalia walked through Lurolona village, dressed down in a pair of overalls and a beige shirt to keep her open for any job of the day. Yesterday she had been in charge of helping clear leftover building parts Today, she felt her time would be best spent building wooden frames for projects around Lurolona. Many were out and about today, early action taking the village once more. However, before she could get started, she had one stop to make. One that addled her mind until it was done.

Raphtalia passed by people and houses, her eyes drifting from scene to scene. The sun was cresting over the edge of the mountains, illuminating the new day as many got up once again. Men and women, even the older teens, were all getting back to work, taking efforts in the continued restoration of the village. A trio of girls all lifted up a wood base for a wall that had been fastened together. Several boys followed them with hammers and nails, pressing the upright material against another wall, positioning it so the new house would not have any wind-draft for the winter seasons.

Adults continued to clean the damaged homes, though little remained of the destroyed buildings now. Many had been scavenged for anything useful, the rest, mainly damaged wood bits, used for kindling. The huntress of the town was on the hillside, looking to the forest, her bow in hand. Perhaps she would hope to find fresh game for today.

As Raphtalia looked past the forest, her eyes took in the new additions to her home. Standing up a few meters tall, a new, stone wall wrapped around the body of Lurolona. Small openings were adorned into it, with some people working on creating gateways for simple access in and out of the city. Raphatalia remembered how the hero summoned them up from the ground, seeming to cast a strange spell every eight hours, then continuing with his work elsewhere.

The hero, even after protecting the village, did so much to aid in the struggles. The wall, as he put it, "Will not protect you from invasion, but will give you ample time to flee should more dangers arrive on your doorstep." He also set about the construction of towers on the edge of the barrier, and laid out paper prints on how to construct it for the builders in the town.

Thinking about the hero, her eyes drifted to the cliffside once more, a black spot firmly pressed into the luscious grass that once grew there. Her mind supplied her that it would grow back after some time, but what happened there would remain. Nothing remained from the pyre that was built, which burned for two days before dying out. After that, the hero broke upon the remnants and scattered them into the oceans below, the bones sinking into the un-quelled waters.

Right next to this was a surprising new addition. Breaking through the edge of the cliff, two little pillars stood, about 3 meters wide between them. Upon them, some of the children attached lamps, so it could even be seen within the dark when lit. What lay passed the pillars was a sight to behold: The hero had used his wall-building spell and summoned up stairs. Not real stairs, per say, but long ramps that shifted and undulated, pressing against the edge of the cliff border. They descended downwards, shifting around before coming to the flat of the ocean level. There, a few more platforms were built, creating a makeshift dock.

Despite the new treasure, the elders who survived had explained to him that they felt unsafe about such a dock. There were underwater cliff rocks that would rip through ships, and jagged stone patterns that lay below the cliffs. The hero stared at them through their explanation that day, then proceeded to nod his head, and walk underwater.

Many had screamed at him for the insane action. Some called for his return, others believing the man was just crazy. What broke all cries and pleas: thunderous booms echoed under the waters, one by one shaking the depths of the salted waves. It went on for several more minutes until the hero came back from under the water, dripping from his still battered armor, and merely said "Now there are no more rock formations. Your ships will pass safely if you go straight forward for about 100 meters, then get to open waters." Then he left, bewildering all with even more of his unique capabilities.

Raphtalia didn't know what to make of him after everything. The man was strong, very strong. One who could summon the earth to his command, then use his fist to break through it just as easy. Armor, even when busted, unyielding to the onslaught that came from a whole Company of Melromarc knights. His words were always cold and unfeeling, though his actions were the opposite. He never seemed to sleep, being the last to be active during the construction process, and the first to awaken and continue with either restoration or his own work.

He was never seen eating. He never seemed to eat at all. He opened holes in his own walls so people could get access to forest edges and outside farmland, but never partook in any of their bounty. When food was brought to him by children, he always refused it. Even if it made them cry, he would just look at them and say "I do not need it, but it's clear that you might." He always wore his armor, and never showed his face. His identity, even after all this time, was a mystery to everyone in Lurolona.

'I heard him say his name was 'Tsairee' or something along those lines, but then he told someone yesterday that it wasn't his real name.' Raphtalia huffed. 'I would think he is lying, but he seemed genuine...well, as genuine as his flat voice would allow.' She surmised. 'I just wish he would tell us who he was. It's not right that a hero is not known after he saves people.'

"Raphtalia!" A familiar voice pulled the raccoon girl from her thoughts. Running up wearing a gray and blue dress, Rifana waved her arms happily, using the yellow sleeves to flag her friend down. Raphtalia smiled as Rifana trotted over beside her, tucking her hands together in front of herself. "I was wondering where you went. Old man Winstead said you would be helping with the building of boats." Raphtalia nodded her head, continuing her pace while her friend followed at equal speeds.

"Yeah, I told them I could help collect wood and handle a hammer. I'm not very good at it yet, but I've been practicing, what with all the construction going on." Rifana nodded, noting that she also felt herself getting better at handling tools. Raphtalia, Keel, and herself had helped in the fields before, and sometimes did work around the village for others, but never to this scale.

"Then lets get going. I'm sure that they'll need all the help they can get. They need some little weights to hold the wood while they bow it after all!" Rifana and Raphtalia giggled at the prospects of being used like scale weights. Raphtalia shook her head, a smile pressed to her lips.

"Not just yet. I have one stop before going down to the dock." As the raccoon girl stated these words, she seemed to slow her steps. Rifana followed suit, curiosity fluttering through her mind. Her golden eyes drifted over to where Raphtalia looked, and finally took note of where they were. Rifana looked to her friend in concern.

"Um, Raphtalia, should you really be interrupting him? I mean, he said he would be really busy inside when he wasn't helping us out here." Raphtalia nodded, walking up to the door of the structure. The sounds of metalwork and pounding force echoed within, nearly shaking the little building that it occurred within. She took in a deep breath, trepidation pulling at her hand as she lifted it to the wooden entrance. *Knock**Knock* It was soft, barely audible. To no surprise, the sounds of work continued within, a methodic hammering of metal on metal continuing, smoke and heat billowing from the chimney. *Knock**Knock* She did so a bit harder.

The sounds inside stopped for a moment, Raphtalia holding her breath. "Enter" broke the silence from within, before the hammering continued. Nodding to herself, the little girl pushed the door open. Rushing out from the room came heat and smoke, bowling over Raphtalia. She coughed out as the smell assaulted her nose, the warmth pressing against her hair and skin. She pushed to door open more, enough to allow herself in, and took steps inside.

Rifana stood back several steps, waiting just at the edge of the building's walkway and watching her friend walk into the workshop. Biting at her lip, she allowed her feet to guide her forward. With hurried movement she trotted forward, moving just behind her friend as the door went to close. Raphtalia looked back in surprise, but smiled back at Rifana before continuing forward.

The two closed the door behind them, the noises of blacksmithing pounding at their ears. A fire roared with life at the wall of a room, pieces of light metal pressed inside the embers. Windows were opened, trying to let out heat that continued to build in the room, aiding in the escape of smoke and steam that didn't escape into the chimney. Assorted pieces of equipment lay about, either broken or unfinished. And at the back wall of the room was a figure, crouched over an anvil as he continued pounding away on material.

"Who has entered? Is there an emergency? Perhaps some assistance needed with load bearing supports on the new inn?" The hero turned around, looking at the two girls who had entered his makeshift smithing house. His gaze seemed to hold on them for a few seconds. He turned back to his work, continuing to shape what looked to be a piece of Melromarc plate armor. His hammer crashed down onto the material, the red hot metal bending to the power behind the blow.

"U-Um, Mr. Hero." Raphtalia pushed out. "I wanted to ask you about something." The hero continued to move about the room, grabbing up the bent material he worked on and placing it back under heat. He then moved to a pile of wood scraps at the side of the room, grabbing them up alongside several pieces of bone he had saved from the pyre.

"You may speak, child."

Raphtalia bit her lip. "Is...is it true that you're leaving?" The words escaped her. Rifana looked over in shock.

The hero tossed the new pieces into the fire, putting them around the edges of the metal and using a spearhead to move them about. "That is correct. I will be leaving by today, based on my estimations of completion." Raphtalia faltered at his words, but he seemed not to notice, only continuing to work. "My new armor pieces are all but finished. They are temporary, but are satisfactory for now. This community lacks the equipment needed to fully restore myself." He turned to look at the girls. "Not only that, but the longer I stay, the more likely it is that someone may come for me, and not as an ally. If I am still here, they may target your people, which I cannot allow."

Raphtalia looked at the hero in despair, his words dancing through her ears and mind. The idea of him leaving, after being here and doing so much, it hurt. Raphtalia had heard that adventurers and heroes never stuck around long after completing their missions. They needed to keep moving, to help others around the world too! Still, he had done so much for them, a part of her felt like he would be staying a lot longer, what with construction still happening and their lives getting better each day he aided them.

The hero turned away from the girls, moving to grab up one of the other pieces of light metal. He moved it to the table, his large gauntlet keeping the heat off of him. Placing it down, he went to strike at it while it seared with red hot fury.

"Then take me with you!/Then I want to come with you!" Shot from two mouths at the same time.

Raphtalia looked to her friend, stunned. Rifana seemed to do the same, before her own surprise slipped away into another smile. The weasel girl looked back to the hero. "Could you take us with you?" Rifana pleaded. Raphtalia couldn't help but let those ideas settle into her mind. The prospects of Rifana and herself joining the hero.

'I know he's not the real Shield Hero. He's basically said that to every person who ever asked him.' Raphtalia thought to herself. 'But he's a powerful and kind hero. He could make Rifana and I stronger. Strong enough to-'

"No." The pound of metal atop the anvil shot through the single room building, killing the imagination of both girls. Rifana stepped forward, her hands in fists at her sides, shaking.

"Please, Mr. Hero." She pleaded.

Raphtalia joined her, hands clasped over themselves in desperation. "Mr. Hero, I know we're not much right now. But under you, we could become more! We could become stronger!"

The hero's movements did not slow, though he finally spoke. "'Stronger', you say. Please describe to me why you wish to become stronger." He smashed his hammer down onto the now flattened piece of metal. "What will this 'strength' you seek give you?" Raphtalia gulped.

"I...I want to be able to protect those I care about." Raphtalia said with confidence building. "To stop what happened from happening again. If I were stronger, maybe I could have helped everyone during the wave...maybe I could have saved my parents." Raphtalia's resolve only seemed to grow at her own words. "But that was in the past. All I can do is look forward, and protect those who are still around. I know I'm weak right now... but if I get stronger, then maybe I'll never have to dream about if you never showed up. Because I can do it myself."

Rifana looked at her friend in adoration. "Me too!" She stepped next to her friend, her own hand wrapping around Raphtalia's. "Everyone is alive because of you, and I'm grateful everyday for it. You saved all of us. You saved me!" Tears threatened to build, but she pushed them back. Emotion built in her throat. "I don't want to have to run away again...to be captured and have no options but to accept what will happen next. To let Raphtalia sacrifice herself for me. Never again!" The girl's hands squeezed against each other, looking to the hero with eyes full of conviction.

The hero put down his hammer, slowly turning to face the two girls. His jagged helm showed nothing. "You are not the first to come to me seeking strength. Not in this village, and not elsewhere." His words cut through the air, the cackling of wood burning and bone cracking within the fire breaking the silence. "But your justification...is understandable." His shielded arm lifted, hand balling on itself before pointing towards the edge of the room. Rifana and Raphtalia tracked his movements to where he pointed.

"I will not be taking any children into war, much less those who are ill prepared." Both girls looked to the pile of weapons, scattered over top of each other and unused. "That being said, if what you say is true, then prove to me your devotion." Raphtalia turned to the hero, then back to the pile. She trotted over to the weapons, her attention upon the assortment of blades and blunt weapons. Her hands ghosted over different ones, taking up their appearance.

'A weapon to fight with...I've never considered holding a weapon for battle.' The thoughts of battle, and blood shot through her mind, but she breathed in, refusing to let them settle inside her. 'I have to get stronger.' She told herself, moving another weapon out of the way, too big for her liking.

Her eyes then caught one. Shifting a few larger weapons out of the way, she grabbed at a handle, the polished wood and metal cold in her hand. She pushed aside more swords, not wanting to ruin the edge. Feeling it come free over undue pressure, she slid it out from the pile, the singing of metal gracing the air.

In her hand was a Hanger Sword, slightly shortened in length at 95 cm. It was nearly straight, the slightest curve taking to the blade before tapering into a curved edge point. The crossguard was a metallic silver, both sides curling up away from the shaft of the handle. The pommel was the same metal as the crossguard, simple in appearance, but stern and held with strength upon the handle.

Rifana looked upon the blade with awe, her eyes soaking the blade that Raphtalia chose. A small semblance of jealousy ebbed at her, but she immediately pushed it away. She looked to the pile of weapons as well, taking small steps towards it to find her own. Raphtalia moved out of the way, allowing her friend to look as she herself was still taken up with the sword in her hand.

Rifana looked upon the pile, her hands shifting around maces and blades that did not call to her. She continued to dig around, trying to find something of note that she would use. 'There has to be something here for me.' She thought to herself, being careful not to cut herself on the edge of any of these weapons. She got on her knees, continuing to rummage around. Time continued to pass her by, and the pile of things she had not seen grew smaller. Her frustration grew.

"Rifana, maybe you won't find your weapon in this pile. Remember, these are just leftovers." A hand pressed to the weasel girl's shoulder, who slumped at the words.

"But...you found your weapon."

"I got lucky." Raphtalia crouched next to her friend, a smile on her lips. "I'm sure you'll find something that interests you, even if it's not here." Rifana bit her lip before nodding her head. Raphtalia stood back up, with Rifana following her movements.

That is, until she saw it.

Rifana ducked back down, using a blunt weapon to push aside a few handles and swords that covered the leather wrap. At the bottom of the pile, pressed to the wooden floor, and obscured by nearly all the weapons, it lay. She dropped the mace in her hand before wrapping her hands around the leather holster. Pulling it from the ground, a pair of handles followed suit as she held what hid their heads.

Unclasping the leather strap, the glint of metal took her eye as she slid the weapons free. With slow hands, she gripped at the curved wooden handles, separating the weapons from each other, one in each hand. Bringing the side of the profile to her face, she looked at the single sided weapons, the sleek, sharpened weapons glimmering from the fire light in the room. A pair of Tomahawk Axes weighed on her arms, the twin weapons simple in design, but beautiful to the weasel girl.

At her side, Raphtalia smiled, her hands clasped around the Hanger Blade she handled with care.

"Sharpening tools will be given to each of you. Keep your weapons strong and well taken care of, as your form of combat is your best friend in warfare." Tsairaah looked upon both of their choices with intrigue, allowing the girls to get used to the weight. 'Not bad choices. Neither are too big on their frames, and can be versatile in the right hands. Fortunately the last wielders of them were not.'

"I will be back in Lurolona in a few months. When I return, I will determine your skill. Prove to me your desire to be strong by then." Both girls nodded to his words, so he continued. "I have learned much of your land from your elders." 'As well as from that Melromarc soldier I captured.' Architect thought to himself. "That being said, experience is the greatest teller of truth. I need to experience this land, its people, its government, its leaders, and its hierarchies to determine what needs to be done in the future."

Raphtalia and Rifana nodded once more, their own minds going to that of the king of Melromarc and the soldiers that almost captured them. Ideas of being enslaved just because someone rich and powerful says so. Being separated from those they love because of what they were born as. Knights that would kill them for just existing. It was a truly terrible thought.

His head shifted towards the window, gaze past the barrier of stone and the unfinished watchtowers. He looked past the hills and mountains, interest within his mind. 'I do not know what changes I can bring to these lands, but powers outside my control determined that I live. My supposed death hath taken me from one plane, and to another.' Architect thought about Pannoth, and what it may be line, now that Rastokal was gone. Whether the undead fell to nothing without their leaders, or if a new tyrant tried to take over after the fall of another. 'I have no way of getting back to Pannoth. Not with what I have currently. All I can do is find a way to communicate with them, and protect those who deserve it in this realm.'

(Edge of Faubrey)

Traveling to the border of the neighboring kingdom, horses trotted forward through the cresting night. The sun had just faded into the dark, leaving the moon to illuminate the roads. Carriages of white and blue journeyed onward, flanked on their sides by mounted knights, weapons at ready and banners waving high as the soft wind pushed against their forward advance.

The coachmen on board cracked the ropes, pushing the horses to quicken their movements. At the rate they moved, they would get to their next resting stop. The drivers desired to camp out for the coming night in a less open space. In their minds, it would not do to leave the passengers open to conflict of any manner. If it meant forcing the noble beasts who carried them to go at a heftier pace, it was worth it.

Within the center of the ornate caravan, two carriages trotted forward at the behest of four horses each. Protected at all sides, the precious individuals within were near impossible to approach.

Within the carriage at the front, a woman sat upon the lush material beneath her. A dress of purple and white draped across her elegant form, frills and garments adorning her in the state of nobility. Her violet hair matched with her wardrobe perfectly, giving a sense of harmony to her appearance. Atop her head rests a golden crown of rubies, the five points beaded with glimmering wealth.

Queen Mirellia Q. Melromarc yawned, the day of traveling pulling at her ability to stay conscious. Within the royal carriage sat a desk just in front of her, layered with documents and papers of key importance. Her hands graced over the new set of parchment to be read, letters from nobles in her own lands as well as information to be taken into account from outside kingdoms.

'So much to do, such little time.' She thought to herself. 'As much as it is my duty to the nobles of my land, it is not necessary to send me four letters in the span of two days. Lord Rabier, your concerns are duly noted, once again.' She moved to place down the letter, only for a soft knock to echo from the window of her carriage.

She waited for a moment before sighing, recomposing her features. "Enter." As her command pressed through the room, a figure draped in an indigo robe appeared in the room. Their face was obscured with a mask, the only thing of note was that of the feminine facial structure underneath. This was a Shadow of the Queen, personal entourage to the nobility of Melromarc. More specifically, Queen Mirelia Q. Melromarc and any she deemed worthy of their aid.

The Shadow kneeled down, their head dropping and gaze averting the royal in the room. "My Queen." They stated softly.

The Queen opened her hand towards the individual. "Report." She stated evenly, to which the Shadow nodded.

"As you know, My Queen, the Wave of Calamity struck the village of Lurolona six days ago. Here, Lord Seatto was staying for a vacation period among the demi-humans that inhabit the land." The Queen said nothing, merely gesturing their hand. "It is now clear that Lord Seatto is confirmed to have died here, attempting to save the people of Lulorona before succumbing to the Wave Boss." The Queen nodded her head, eyes casting down at the prospects of losing a dear friend and ally.

"As you ordered, a task force was collected to aid the village in due haste. A Company was deployed out of Castle Town of Melromarc." The Shadow gave pause. The Queen tilted her head, eyes showing interest. The Shadow looked up from the floor. "The Company was eliminated."

The Queen's gaze became hard. "Explain." To which the Shadow continued.

"I arrived approximately two hours after the Company made contact with Lurolona village. Upon getting within visual distance, the Company, which was led by a Sergeant, were all killed. From then on, the population of Lurolona were piling up their bodies into a mound, removing equipment of worth."

"Why would my subjects kill the very same people who desired to aid them?" The Queen asked, her tone even.

"Because an outside source killed the soldiers, and did so for the betterment of the villagers." The Shadow stated. There was silence for a moment, the Queen staring at her Shadow for a few moments. Her purple eyes were unblinking, looking over the servant with scrutiny. A hand gestured for her to continue once more, and the Shadow nodded her head.

"The villagers of Lurolona had been reconstructing their village when the Company arrived. With many of their strongest dead, they were not able to do anything as the soldiers, instead of aiding them, proceeded to round them up." The Queen's eyes widened the slightest bit before narrowing. "After this, prospects regarding enslavement and the sale of demi humans were broached by the soldiers. This is what was gathered from listening to the villagers post mortem."

"However, before they could complete the roundup get the caravan moving, a figure arrived." The Shadow thought back to the warrior, mind filled with scraping metal and the dented helm. "They were covered in plate metal armor, which seemed to have been destroyed in a previous battle. A Visored Barbuta helmet, heavily lacerated and ruined, was fastened on their head. They stood over two meters tall, a broken shield upon their left arm. The villagers seemed to refer to them as 'the hero', 'the savior', and by a name: 'Tsairaah'."

"How would you scale this 'Tsairaah''s abilities based on appearance?" The Queen asked, her mind calculating all the information presented.

"I would put them well above the 40s in terms of Level. They do not have a high versatility in abilities, based on rumored reports from the villagers. This could be wrong however, as he created a stone barrier to separate the citizenry from the conflict. What is known though is his ability to harness a type of Earth and Earthbreaker Magic, as he created stone barriers and has the capacity to destroy them just as easily."

"Had I arrived earlier, a more in-depth report could be submitted. But just from knowledge presented, there is an adventurer who can take out a whole Company in Lurolona village, at least as of five days ago." The Queen soaked in every word. She brought a hand to her chin, taking into account all the prospects of what occurred just days after her departure. She had only left a few days ago, needing to call upon a council with other world leaders to discuss the course of action needed for the Waves.

'I know Aultcray had a low opinion of demi-humans, but to go behind my back like this? In my better judgment, I would have asked someone else to deploy a garrison, but the haste of the situation made me overlook his more...bloodthirsty aspects.' The Queen grimaced internally. 'Had his actions been successful, had the Company enslaved all the citizenry, it would spell chaos for relations with countries like Siltvelt and Shieldfreeden.'

'If this was not spurred by Aultcray, then I have internal disputes to deal with upon returning home. I am certain that the Three Heroes Church is enjoying a lack of Queen within Castle Town. Their influence over the populace and the soldierly could be another negative that led to this. The last thing Melromarc needs is a battle between religion and nobility. With the Waves of Calamity at our doorstep, focus should be on saving one another.'

'However, with the failure of the Company to complete their task, it poses a different issue. A Company of soldiers is now dead, slain by an adventurer from another land. That, and all of the people of Lurolona now believe that Melromarc's own soldiers will take away their freedom at a moment's notice. That village was supposed to be a beacon to the community, that demi-humans could trust them after the war. Now, they feel betrayed.'

'This adventurer though, 'Tsairaah'...perhaps he can be useful.' The Queen re-focused on the kneeling figure in front of her. Before she should give orders, she noted something in their posture.

"There is more, isn't there?" The Shadow nodded their head.

"The one referred to as 'Tsairaah' seemed to have captured a lone soldier. I believe he used him for information purposes, and set about interrogating him. Had the situation not put my stealth in jeopardy, I would have collected the soldier. For that, I apologize, my Queen."

"You have nothing to apologize for. While this does pose a problem if he manages to obtain information on who gave the orders, it is better to observe him without his knowledge of it occurring. If the soldier disappeared or died while captured, 'Tsairaah' may suspect something." The Shadow nodded, relieved that the Queen offered no punishment.

"I had tracked his location, based on where he had walked prior to entering Lurolona. His weight is impressive, based on the indents he left behind. Footprints brought him from the forest edge of Lurolona and into the village. Tracking through the soil, I saw signs of struggle in there as well and on the outskirts of it, most likely from more soldiers."

"More noteworthy were the footprints that led him into the forest." The Shadow looked to their Queen with conviction. "I traced their movement for about half a mile past the forest...it led to a crater."

The Queen's eyebrow quirked. "A crater..." She said softly. 'Now that is interesting.'

(Lurolona, Dusk)

The sun began to fall from the skies, the mountains obscuring its glow over the village. Winds brushed softly against the demi-humans outside of their homes. Some still bustled about, continuing their hard work towards restoring a few remaining pieces of their community. Torches and sconces lit up the night, small fires flickering from the breeze that passed over them.

At the edge of the walls, freshly built and wrapping around the frame of Lurolona, a large gathering of the people stood around, pressed against one another as they wished farewell to the man in the armor.

His appearance had changed since the last time he was seen. Having completed his armor, his new adornments were much more orderly than before. Gone were the lacerations and slices through thick layers. Instead were patches of light metal welded onto the opened gaps, pressed with heat into the nooks and crannies that left him exposed. The damage to his chest piece and all the dents were buffered out, not smooth enough to show what it once was, but enough to where it was in working order. His arms and the crushed metal had been replaced with gauntlets from the soldiers, light metal arm guards having been expanded and heated to fit on him. He was smart enough to change the material enough to lose their original appearance. It would not do for him to be arrested for wearing Melromarc Company armor.

Lastly was his helm. The cut and bent, crippled piece of material that covered his head seemed to be a mix of a Visored Barbuta and an Armet, the visor having been saved, but instead forged onto an Armet which he expanded and quenched to fit upon his head. As a combined appearance, he looked less like a war-torn gladiator, and more of a battered, patchwork veteran.

An older gentleman, dressed in beige overalls and a dark shirt, walked up to the armored figure, handing him a bag. A gauntlet reached out and gripped at the strap, looking down at the offering. "We had a bit of rope and pitch left about, as well as some torches for your travels. Inside is also a map of Melromarc, and travel routes in case you wanted to use or avoid them." The elder smiled, a pair of fox ears twitching on his head. "I know you don't eat much, but a few people in town could not help themselves. There are some food packs in there for your journey. Take care, Mr. Hero."

Tsairaah nodded, putting the bag over his shoulder like that of a satchel. "I will return soon enough. For the time being, keep your wits about you. I will do what I can to curtail any advancements on your lands from soldiers, but I cannot stop an army should they come." The elder nodded, a firm look taking his features.

"We already have plans to finish the watchtowers. We had an old wood lodge that is no longer usable, so we will make it into a forward tower on the mountain, to alert us before anything gets to the walls." Tsairaah nodded his head once more, the prospects of the elder's decision being wise.

"You have a small population here, so cherish each of them." His eyes looked back to the people of Lurolona. "I do not doubt that a few within may be able to grow into something extraordinary." At these words, a pair of young girls within the villagers nod their heads, hands clasped around the tools of their pursuits.

"We wish you good luck. Thank you, for all you have done here, Mr. Hero." The elder chuckled. "I still wish we could have gotten a name from you."

"Perhaps in the future, I will tell you." Tsairaah bowed before the elder, who did so back. He turned away from the villagers, some of whom waved their hands at his departure, others screaming for his safe departure. He waved a hand back as he passed through the opening in the walls, dark of the night taking his form as he journeyed deeper into the land of Melromarc.

(End Chapter)

That's it for this chapter! Tell me what you thought, as well as any questions/comments/concerns.

I hope you all enjoyed, and I look forward to the continuation of this story! Take care!