CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 33 - THE VILLAGE’S PROGRESS.

It was evening, and soon, it would be night, but the village air carried a new energy.

Hammers clinked against wood, voices called out in half-sung chants, and laughter spilled from corners where just days ago silence had ruled.

Children darted barefoot through half-built fences, and the smell of freshly cut timber mingled with the earthy tang of damp soil.

Kael strolled lazily through it all, his black robes swaying, golden eyes gleaming like a man observing an experiment rather than his own handiwork.

Rue swung from one of his arms like a pouch of mischief, giggling, while Rina held tightly to his other hand, her steps smaller but no less eager.

Lyra walked close by, her crimson eyes alert, and Alenia trailed with composed grace, arms folded as if she were already cataloging every detail for later.

It was Alenia who broke the silence. "They’ve begun planning boundaries."

Kael glanced sideways, brow quirking. "Boundaries?"

He could already see it, but he still asked.

Alenia’s lips curved faintly. "Walls, fences, divisions. They realized that with food flowing from the river, clean water at hand, and their... natural waste handled, they finally have the freedom to build."

Turning to him, she continued. "They came to find you a while ago, wanting to know if they had the permission to build it."

Kael raised a brow. "Oh? What did you say?"

"Well, you were sleeping, so I told them it was fine," Alenia shrugged. "I didn’t think there was anything bad with it, and it was definitely not something you would say no to."

"I guess you know me well," Kael chuckled, continuing the stroll. "So, what happened then?"

Lyra, Rue, and Rina, who were also there, leaned in as Alenia continued. "Well, they asked if I was sure and if you really wouldn’t mind, and I said that they didn’t need to worry about it. After all, it was for the good of the village."

Rue suddenly piped up, mischief glittering in her eyes.

"I heard some of them calling you second-in-command, Miss Alenia!" She giggled, swinging off Kael’s arm like it was a rope.

Alenia sighed, waving her hand dismissively. "I don’t care what they call me. I’m simply guiding them where I can."

As he heard those words, Kael hummed, stroking his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. His golden eyes flicked up and down Alenia in mock appraisal.

"Second-in-command, hm? What’s wrong with that?"

Alenia raised a brow at him, her expression flat. "You sound like you’re plotting something."

Kael smirked. "Oh, I am. Let’s face it—you’ve dealt with all sorts of people, haven’t you? You’ve managed worse situations, held things together when everything was crumbling. You’ve been a leader before."

Rue gasped dramatically. "So... You’re making her boss lady?"

Rina blinked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Second-in-command does... suit her."

Kael snapped his fingers lightly. "Exactly. If Alenia takes command, that means I don’t have to. Less talking, less deciding, less listening to fools argue about whose pig wandered into whose hut. Perfect arrangement, if you ask me."

Lyra’s lips twitched despite herself. "You’re shameless."

Kael shrugged, utterly unbothered. "Efficient, Lyra. The word is efficient."

All eyes turned to Alenia. She stood in silence for a long moment, her golden gaze steady on Kael. Her expression betrayed nothing, though the faintest ghost of amusement seemed to flicker there.

Finally, she exhaled. "...Very well. But I accept under one condition."

Kael arched a brow. "Oh? Already negotiating with your new boss? Dangerous move."

Alenia ignored his quip. "You will give me at least one hour every day for a proper report. Everything I manage, everything that happens—you will hear it directly. No excuses, no disappearing into naps. You must sit and listen."

Rue giggled. "Oooh, she’s bossy too!"

Rina flushed, tugging gently on Kael’s sleeve.

Kael tapped his chin, weighing it theatrically. "One hour a day, hm... That’s sixty minutes of my precious leisure time. But then again, in exchange, I never have to attend village meetings or hear about whose goat ate whose laundry..."

His smirk curved wider. "Deal. But only if you bring tea with the reports. Makes the boredom easier."

Alenia shook her head, but there was a rare softness in her smile. "You truly are impossible."

"Impossible, perhaps," Kael said, his golden eyes glinting as he let Rue climb onto his shoulders, "but now... blissfully free of paperwork."

The group carried on, laughter bubbling as the sounds of construction rose around them.

It wasn’t much yet, as all the villagers had done until now was cut down the trees, but it was progress anyway.

Of course, there was no need for fences in the first place because his presence would keep the beasts at bay, but he wasn’t going to stop if someone wanted to work.

After all, most conflicts happen when people have nothing to do.

So, for a while, Kael decided to stroll around and look at what was happening around the newly established village.

............................

By the time they returned from their stroll, the sun had sunk low, painting the village in hues of orange and violet. Smoke curled lazily from makeshift hearths, and the hum of evening work was fading into quiet chatter.

Kael stepped back into the yard of his two-story, Japanese-style building, Rue still perched on his shoulders like a victorious fox cub while Rina clung shyly to his sleeve.

Alenia disappeared inside, muttering about organizing her "first official report," while Lyra lingered by the doorway, casting him one last glance before slipping into the lamplight.

Kael, however, veered toward the wide, open structure at the side—the garage built to house the only beast in the village.

The earth bear.

The hulking creature sprawled across the packed soil, its brown fur dusted with sawdust, and its mountainous form rose and fell with steady breaths.

Its eyes were half-lidded, feigning sleep, while children clambered over its flank, hopping down from its shoulders, and giggling each time it grumbled.

"Guardian of the village!" One boy shouted, climbing up its side before tumbling down again.

"No, he’s a sleepy guardian!" Another chimed in, laughing until the bear huffed like a thundercloud.

Kael leaned lazily against the doorway with Rue and Rina beside him. His lips curved into a quiet smile as the twins’ eyes gleamed at the scene.

For a while, the three of them merely watched, letting the children’s laughter fill the space.

Finally, with a groan like rolling boulders, the bear pushed itself up just enough to rumble, "Enough. Go."

The children pouted, some daring to tug lightly at its fur.

"We’ll come back tomorrow!" They laughed, scattering like leaves in the wind.

The bear grumbled again, sinking back down, and looking at all that, Kael chuckled, the sound smooth and unhurried. Rue snickered too, and even Rina’s quiet giggle slipped out.

The bear’s heavy gaze flicked toward Kael. "What do you want... Master?"

Kael tilted his head, golden eyes glinting. "Not much. Just a few answers, if you’re in the mood."

The bear snorted, shifting its bulk. "Since when did you need my permission?"

Kael shrugged and crossed his arms loosely, his voice casual but sharp enough to strike home. "Why so grumpy all the time? Why not live as you used to?"

At that, the bear’s eyes flared.

"Grumpy?" It rumbled, rising slightly. "What do I have to be happy about? You—" it jabbed a massive claw toward Kael, "—forced me to become your pet. Me! An earth bear, reduced to a mount for little fox girls!"

Rue and Rina paused, their expressions taut as they hugged Kael’s arms tighter. Kael, however, merely hummed, stroking his chin with a maddeningly calm smile.

"I came to get answers, but I guess I’ll answer some of yours first." He stepped forward, his gaze locked into the bear’s. "What is there to be happy about, you say?"

"Then, listen well," he continued smoothly. "You should be happy because you met a beast stronger than you... and survived. Few can boast of that."

The bear stiffened as he heard those words, as they were true.

Every stronger beast would prefer to tear apart any future competition and devour them. But Kael hadn’t done that, and it was something he never realized until now.

The dragon, on the other hand, continued.

"As for the ’pet’ part..." His smirk curved. "Tell me, what exactly have I done to make you one? Did I collar you? Chain you? Make you fetch?"

"Yeah, you did carry the twins," he shrugged, golden eyes sharp as the blade of a knife. "But I carry them myself. Does that make me their pet?"

The bear couldn’t say a word in reply, but Kael went on.

"Power doesn’t vanish just because someone smaller climbs on your back. People like you as you are. That’s why they’re here."

For the first time in a long time, the bear paused, blinking as its massive head tilted. "People... like me?"

Kael gestured at the yard. "Why do you think parents let their children play here? Because they trust you not to harm them. They believe you’ll protect them."

The twins stepped forward, their small hands brushing against Kael’s sleeve. Kael nodded at them. "And these two climb onto your back because they want to. Because they like you. That’s not weakness—it’s trust."

The bear turned its gaze down, massive eyes meeting Rue’s and Rina’s. Both girls smiled up at him, warm and genuine, their presence soft as dawnlight against his weathered heart.

Rue suddenly wrapped her arms around one of his tree-trunk legs. "See? You’re not scary to us."

Rina followed, hugging his paw with shy determination. "We... like you."

The earth bear froze.

For the first time in its long life, something unfamiliar stirred within him—strange, yet unbearably good.

He had always been feared, chased, and treated as a monster to be avoided or slain. But here, these fragile creatures, these children, clung to him without fear.

His chest rumbled, not in anger, but in something close to a tremor.

"...Strange," he whispered. "Very strange."

Kael’s smirk softened into something closer to a smile as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded loosely. "Strange, perhaps. But good, wouldn’t you say?"

The bear said nothing. But for once, his silence carried no bitterness—only the quiet confusion of a beast learning that maybe, just maybe... it wasn’t a monster after all.