Several more days passed in Greenwood Village.
At first, the presence of the black dragon had felt like a storm cloud hanging over the settlement. Even when John did nothing threatening, the villagers had watched him carefully. Warriors had kept their hands close to their weapons, scouts had quietly tracked his movements, and even the elders had debated what it meant for a dragon to live beside them.
But time had a strange way of softening fear.
Nothing terrible happened.
No village was burned.
No elf was harmed.
John hunted monsters outside the forest, returned without causing trouble, and most of the time simply rested around the village like a large, lazy guardian.
Slowly, the tension faded.
The villagers stopped whispering when he walked by.
Hunters began greeting him casually.
Children began getting curious.
