Kenta stood there for a while. The dust had settled. The noise was gone. What remained was silence and the stillness of bodies scattered across the village square. At his feet, Drago lay motionless, the last trace of breath long since gone.
Kenta looked down at him. His expression didn't change much. There was no satisfaction there. No pride. Just a quiet, lingering stillness as he stared at what was left of the man.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath.
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes drifting for a moment before settling again.
"Still doesn't feel great."
A faint exhale left him as he shook his head lightly.
"Guy was scum," he went on quietly. "No doubt about that, but..."
His gaze lingered just a second longer. "Taking a life's still taking a life."
Another small shake of his head followed, like he was brushing the thought aside.
"Guess my sympathy's stronger than I'd like, even for scum like him that doesn't deserve it," he added.
A faint, almost self-aware breath slipped out.
"But that's just the kind of guy I am."
He turned away. His attention shifted toward the rest of the village. The people he'd stepped in to save. Some were still bound in the center, others huddled behind the wall of ice he'd raised earlier, peeking out cautiously like they weren't sure if it was safe yet.
Kenta walked toward them. The ice wall stood tall, jagged, and thick, still faintly misting in the cooling air. He raised his hand and placed his palm against it.
The surface cracked softly. Then it began to melt. The frost receded from where his hand touched, spreading outward as the entire wall softened, then collapsed into nothing more than a pooling layer of water that quickly soaked into the dirt.
The villagers behind it flinched at first, but when nothing followed, they slowly began to step forward. Kenta didn't say anything.
He bent down, picking up a sword from one of the fallen ruffians. He gave it a quick glance, testing the weight for a second before turning toward the bound group.
They tensed as he approached. The ropes were tight, cutting into their wrists. Some of them shrank back slightly, eyes darting between him and the blade in his hand.
Kenta crouched in front of the nearest one.
A young woman. Pink hair, tied loosely behind her head, strands falling out of place. She couldn't have been much older than her early twenties. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, though she was doing her best to stay still.
Kenta didn't say anything at first. He simply brought the blade down and sliced clean through the ropes binding her wrists.
The tension snapped free. She blinked, staring at her hands for a moment before slowly looking up at him.
"Th-thank you," she said, her voice unsteady.
There was a pause. Then, more quietly, "You're… not going to hurt us, right?"
Kenta blinked once. Then shook his head.
"Of course not," he said simply.
He stood up, already moving to the next person.
"I wouldn't have gone through all that trouble getting those Hades bastards out of here if I were planning to."
He cut through another set of bindings, then another. As he worked, his gaze drifted briefly across the village. The damage was everywhere.
Collapsed structures. Scorched wood. Smoldering patches where fire still lingered. The aftermath of both the raid and the fight sat heavy in the air.
"Though," Kenta added, glancing back at them, "I get why you'd be nervous."
He lifted the blade slightly.
"With everything that just happened and the way things probably looked to you lot, I'd be scared too."
He didn't dwell on it. One by one, he moved through the group, cutting each person free. Some thanked him. Some were too shaken to speak. Others just stared, still trying to process everything.
It took a few minutes. But eventually the last rope fell. Kenta straightened, rolling his shoulder once as he looked around at the freed villagers.
Then his gaze shifted again. The fires. Still burning in places. Slow, creeping flames threatening what little remained. Kenta glanced down at the sword in his hand.
"Might as well," he muttered.
He adjusted his grip. Then, quietly, energy began to gather. A faint chill spread along the blade first, frost forming along its edge. Then, just as quickly, a sharp current of wind wrapped around it, spiraling in tight, controlled layers.
The air shifted. Kenta swung. A single arc cut through the village.
The strike carried outward, splitting into multiple currents as it traveled, weaving through the space like a controlled storm. The wind scattered the flames while the ice smothered what remained, frost spreading across burning wood and stamping it out in moments.
By the time the motion finished, the fires were gone. Only faint smoke remained.
Kenta lowered the sword, giving it a small look before tossing it aside. It landed in the dirt with a dull thud. Behind him, the villagers slowly began to gather themselves. Some helped others to their feet. Some moved toward the damaged homes. Others simply stood there, taking in the reality of what had happened.
After a short while, a small group approached him. At the front was the pink-haired girl. She stepped forward hesitantly at first, then steadied herself.
"My name is Koki," she said, her voice still soft but clearer now. "I'm… the granddaughter of the village elder."
She gestured slightly behind her. Kenta followed her motion. The elder's body still lay where it had fallen.
Kenta's expression softened just a fraction.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.
Koki nodded faintly, swallowing before continuing.
"On behalf of everyone in Tendo Village," she said, "we want to thank you."
She bowed her head slightly.
"And… if there's anything we can do to repay you—"
Kenta shook his head.
"No need," he said.
The answer came quick. Simple.
Koki's shoulders lowered slightly, disappointment flickering across her face. Kenta looked past her again, taking in the state of the village one more time.
"You don't really have time for that anyway," he added.
Her head tilted slightly as Kenta continued.
"A lot of people died today," he said calmly. "And a good chunk of your village is either gone or barely holding together."
His tone wasn't harsh. Just direct.
"If you don't start working on fixing things right away, this place isn't going to last."
The words settled over them.
"So instead of worrying about repaying me," Kenta said, "you should focus on rebuilding."
He paused. Then added, quieter—
"As much as it's going to hurt… you'll have to put the mourning aside for now too."
A few of them stiffened at that. Kenta didn't look away.
"You can't afford to stop," he continued. "Not yet."
His gaze moved across the group.
"If this village falls apart after everything that just happened... then all those people died for nothing."
Silence followed.
"The only way they don't," Kenta said, "is if you keep this place going."
His voice softened just slightly.
"They're gone. But the people still here carry their memories with them."
He gestured lightly.
"That's what matters now. Rebuild," he finished.
The villagers stood there, taking it in. Some wiped at their eyes. Others clenched their fists. A few looked down, shoulders trembling as they tried to steady themselves.
Koki didn't look away. Slowly, her expression changed. The fear didn't disappear. The grief didn't either. But something else settled in alongside it. Determination.
She nodded.
"You're right," she said quietly.
She turned, looking back at the others.
"We don't have time to just stand here."
Her voice grew firmer.
"Everyone who can move, start helping. Check the homes. Put together anything we can salvage."
There was hesitation. Then movement. One by one, the villagers began to act. Some ran toward the damaged buildings. Others started gathering tools, helping the injured, and clearing debris.
The village, broken as it was, began to move again. Koki watched them for a moment. Then she turned back. Kenta gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his expression.
He turned toward the road leading out of the village.
"Hey, wait!"
Koki hurried after him.
He stopped, glancing back slightly.
"At the very least," she said, catching her breath, "can we know the name of the person who saved us?"
Kenta looked at her for a moment. Then nodded.
"Kenta Brooks."
The name was simple and was easy for her to remember. He shifted his gaze toward the village once more.
"I hope that I pass through here again someday," he added. "And see that it's still standing."
Koki straightened.
"It will be," she said.
There was no hesitation now.
"We'll make it better than it was before."
Her voice steadied.
"Bright enough that... even the ones we lost today can see it from the heavens above."
Kenta's expression softened slightly.
"That's a nice way to look at it," he said.
He gave a small nod.
"Guess I'll see for myself one day."
With that, he turned and walked off. The road stretched out ahead, quiet and open. Behind him, the sounds of rebuilding slowly began to replace the silence. Tendo Village faded into the distance.
Kenta walked for a while without saying anything. Then, after a few minutes, he lets out a small breath and mutters calmly to himself.
"Hamone City, huh. That place seems, probably, worth a visit. I think I'll head there next."