The Devouring Knight-Chapter 46 - 45: The Village Without a Shield

Lumberling parted ways with Skitz near the outskirts of the human village where Uncle Drake lived. Accompanied by Jen and Old Man Dan, he continued on foot while Skitz and the others returned to the goblin village.

Before entering, Lumberling briefed his companions.

"Don’t mention the goblin village or me being their lord," he told them.

Old Man Dan nodded in understanding. Jen just tilted her head, confused, but agreed anyway. She didn’t get all the details—but trusted Lumberling to handle things.

As they approached the village—

"Who goes there?" a familiar voice called out.

"Uncle Drake?"

"Lumberling?" There was a pause. "It really is you... Have you become the village guard or something? Didn’t expect to find a Knight Page posted here." Lumberling chuckled.

But Uncle Drake didn’t smile.

"What’s wrong?" Lumberling asked, the tension prickling in his voice. "Where’s the village chief?"

Uncle Drake let out a long sigh. "A lot happened here. Come—let’s talk at my place."

As they walked through the village, Lumberling noticed how much quieter it was. The buildings hadn’t changed, but the people were fewer, and the usual buzz of farm life felt muted.

The streets were too quiet. Doors shut. No children’s laughter. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Jen clutched Lumberling’s sleeve. "It feels like the forest before a monster shows up..."

Old Man Dan’s eyes scanned the rooftops. "I don’t like this stillness."

"That bad, huh?" he finally asked.

Uncle Drake nodded. "The village chief was drafted by the Empire. Orrin and I would’ve gone too, but the chief pleaded to let us stay and watch over the village in his place."

"So that’s why I’m seeing fewer men around."

"Exactly. Most of the younger men were taken. Just a handful left now... me, Orrin, and a few boys barely old enough to swing a hammer."

"And then the bandits started coming," Uncle Drake added grimly. "With the chief gone and too few to fight back, they started treating us like prey. That’s why I stood guard. Orrin watches at night."

"I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner," Lumberling said, his voice a tinge with guilt. "I thought the village chief was strong enough to keep everyone safe."

Lumberling lowered his gaze. In the forest, surrounded by monsters, it was easy to forget the world still bled. He’d assumed the strong would always protect the weak—like the village chief.

But strength didn’t matter if it wasn’t there when it was needed.

"It’s not your fault," Drake said. "This is our problem. But I’ve got to ask—how did you escape conscription?"

"I’ve been in training... in a remote place," Lumberling answered. "I didn’t hear much news. Fill me in?"

"I will," Uncle Drake said. "But first, you should meet my wife. She’ll be happy to see you. Bring your companions—looks like they’re close to you."

Drake glanced at the girl clinging to Lumberling’s arm.

"I planned to introduce them anyway," Lumberling said with a faint smile.

A few minutes later...

"Honey, I’m back."

"You’re early," a voice called from inside the house. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah. Come down—we’ve got a special visitor."

Footsteps. Then—

"Is that you, Lumberling?" Aunt Celine stepped into view, eyes lighting up. "You’ve grown taller again! Finally decided to visit, have you?"

"Sorry, Aunt. I got caught up with training," Lumberling said sheepishly. "I meant to come earlier."

"Uh-huh. Sure you did," she said, smiling playfully. Then her eyes landed on Jen. "And who’s this little cutie?"

Jen shrank behind Lumberling’s side, bashful.

"Aww, she’s shy," Celine said, kneeling down. "Don’t worry, Auntie won’t bite. Here—want a candy?"

Jen hesitated, then took the sweet with a shy nod.

She looked at the candy, sniffed it once, then licked it like it might explode.

"It’s sweet, not cursed," Celine chuckled.

"We don’t eat things from strangers in the forest," Jen said seriously.

"I’m not a stranger. I’m your aunt now."

Jen blinked. "...Do all aunts give candy?"

"The good ones do," Celine winked.

"Her name’s Jen," Lumberling explained. "A student of mine. I met her during my travels—she’s got talent, so I took her under my wing. And this is Old Man Dan—her grandfather."

"I see," Aunt Celine said warmly. "Nice to meet you, Old Man Dan. I didn’t think my nephew was already the type to be taking on students."

"Pleasure’s mine, ma’am. And you’re right—Lumberling’s more than capable," Dan replied.

"Oh, don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel ancient," she said with a playful laugh. "Just call me Celine."

"Nice to meet you too, ma’am—er, Celine."

"You don’t need to act so stiff," she said.

"Force of habit. When you survive a hundred village meetings, you learn to bow before any woman with an apron."

Soon after, Celine led Jen off to chat and play, leaving the men to talk.

"What’s the current situation in Multan Fortress, Uncle Drake?" Lumberling asked once they settled around the table.

Drake raised a brow. "So you’ve already heard that the Sengolio Empire invaded?"

"Bits and pieces. But that was over a year ago. I don’t know what’s happened since."

Drake leaned back and exhaled. "It got worse. After they breached the fortress, the Empire sent one of our Knight-4 elites to stop them. We thought that would end it."

Lumberling frowned. "But it didn’t."

"No. The Sengolios didn’t send just one Knight-4... they sent three. It was a trap. Our knight died. After that, their army flooded through our territories like a plague. The Emperor was furious. He issued a full mobilization. Now it’s war—on every front."

Lumberling stayed quiet, processing the gravity of it.

"Banditry’s up too," Drake added. "Refugees are pouring in from the frontier towns. Resources are stretched thin."

’Even if we’re far from the fortress, this war could reach us sooner or later...’ Lumberling thought grimly.

"Those bandits you mentioned," Lumberling said, shifting his tone. "Was one of them named Mad Molly?"

Drake’s eyes narrowed. "Yeah. That bastard leads the group. Sends his men down to raid us whenever he pleases."

"I’ve heard the name around," Lumberling said vaguely. "He’s infamous. But how did the village survive his attacks? He’s supposed to be a Knight Apprentice, right?"

Drake clenched his fists. "He is. And he knows no one here can stop him. So he treats this village like his personal piggy bank. Forces us to pay a monthly ’tax’—gold, food, whatever he wants. If the chief were here, he’d have cleaved Molly in two without blinking."

"How about the city or the nobles? Did you ask for their help?"

"We did," Uncle Drake said bitterly. "But they told us our village was too remote—outside their jurisdiction. Not their responsibility, they said."

He scoffed, eyes hardening.

"They took our men for their war... and now they wash their hands of us like we don’t matter."

A heavy silence settled over the room. The kind that came not from the lack of words, but the weight of truth too bitter to speak.

Silence fell—until Lumberling spoke again.

"Well, actually, you don’t have to worry about them anymore," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Mad Molly is dead."

Uncle Drake blinked, his weathered face tightening with disbelief.

"I met him on the way here," Lumberling continued. "And I killed him."

For a second, there was silence. Then Uncle Drake let out a long, shaky breath. His shoulders slumped like someone had lifted a boulder off his back.

"You... you killed that bastard?" His voice cracked.

"I ran into him on my way here," Lumberling replied. "We fought—and I killed him."

There was a long pause before Uncle Drake blinked, stunned. "You... killed Mad Molly? Wait—you’ve become a Knight Apprentice already?!"

Lumberling gave a small nod. "My training paid off. But please, don’t spread word of it. If people find out, I might get conscripted too."

In truth, he hadn’t officially reached the Knight Apprentice stage, but his raw strength already rivaled that of a peak Knight Apprentice.

"That’s a shame," he said with a grin. "But I understand. Your secret’s safe with me."

"Thank you, Uncle Drake."

"No, thank you—for getting rid of that bastard. You’ve done more than you know."

He sat down heavily on the bench, hands gripping his knees. "Gods above... for months, we had to grovel to that scum. Every time I saw his men come down the road, I clenched my fists so hard I thought my bones would snap."

His eyes grew glassy, not from tears—but from the sudden absence of a weight he had grown used to carrying.

"You did more than just kill a man, Lumberling. You gave this village its spine back."

He looked up, smiling weakly. "Thank you, truly. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words."

"You’re welcome, and sorry I didn’t come sooner," Lumberling said with a hint of regret. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

"Either way," Drake said, voice warmer now, "you’re always welcome here. Stay as long as you like."

"I plan to," Lumberling smiled. "Jen and I will rest here for a few days."

And so, they did.

Lumberling spent time catching up with Uncle Drake and Aunt Celine, sharing stories and laughter.

There was something grounding about talking with fellow humans again—his subordinates were loyal and capable, but these conversations carried a comforting sense of normalcy he hadn’t realized he missed.

He introduced Jen and Old Man Dan around. Slowly, Jen warmed up to Celine, trailing after her like a little niece. The air was peaceful. No commands. No battles. Just a rare moment of quiet in a world torn by war.

With the weight of war briefly off their shoulders, they returned to simpler days.

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