The Extra Can't be A Hero

The trio's arrival at Espadavale wasn't as eventful as the other party's. By the time they reached the peaceful village, the sun had already set, making way for a moonless night and a sky full of stars. In addition, their destination wasn't as bustling as the mining town Olavaguel.

Espadavale rests in quiet stillness beneath a star-sprinkled sky, its soft contours outlined by the moon's silver glow. Sleek, minimalist homes with warm wooden accents and expansive windows nestle among gentle hills, their interiors glowing faintly with amber light. Garden paths wind between homes, lined with native shrubs and softly glowing solar lanterns that cast long, graceful shadows.

The countryside air was cool and carried the faint scent of daisies and fresh soil. A nearby stream murmured gently, weaving through the heart of the village like a lullaby. Distant wind chimes tinkle softly with the breeze, and the occasional hoot of an owl echoes through the night, adding a gentle rhythm to the silence.

Espadavale was a peaceful, withdrawn village. Its population didn't exceed ten thousand, and most residents were farmers raising poultry or growing tea leaves. In this remote village, whispers of the Solaris's congregation arrival stirred. Hence, when the trio arrived in a taxi carriage from the train station, several eyes were still awake.

Amon was the first to step down from the carriage, his striking presence instantly drawing every eye. Golden, predatory eyes scanned the village with quiet intensity, framed by the midnight fall of his raven-black hair. Those who had dared the chill of night just to glimpse the famed Eldorin Commander were not disappointed. His tall, commanding figure was a rare sight in the quiet village—not one of fear, but of silent awe.

As he approached the door to his inn and pushed it open, the crowd watched in fascinated silence, for the person who followed soon after was equally breathtaking.

Yue walked into view, standing as if woven from moonlight and myth, a vision that felt both ethereal and impossible. Her hair, a cascade of silken white, shimmered with a faint, opalescent glow, drifting around her shoulders like mist stirred by unseen winds. It framed a face so exquisitely sculpted it seemed the gods had carved her from starlight and silence—cheekbones high, lips soft as a whispered secret, and skin pale as ivory kissed by frost.

She moved with grace that defied weight and time, each step a ripple through the air. Once they saw her, the villagers would not speak—only watch, breath caught in reverence and wonder, as if the moon had taken human form and wandered down from the heavens, cloaked in winter and dreams.

Now both twenty-two, Amon and Yue had reached the prime of their physical appearance. Handsome and beautiful were two adjectives that barely qualified to describe them.

The Fantasy Couple… truly an apt title for their appearance.

"Welcome to Espadavale, Lord Solaris."

As if waiting for their arrival, a handsome middle-aged manager opened the inn's front door and addressed Amon with a signature warm smile. Amon gave the manager a firm handshake before looking up at the inn. It was a two-story building with timber beams darkened by age and a sloped roof of mossy slate, giving it a timeless charm. Window boxes overflowed with trailing ivy and sleepy night-flowers, their petals catching the light from the soft, golden glow.

Not knowing how long they would stay in Espadavale, Amon had booked the entire inn for a month—giving the group ample privacy and comfort.

"Please lead my companions to the rooms."

Amon gestured to the manager, introducing Yue and Arya in the process.

"Pardon me? What about you, Lord Solaris?"

"I have some business to take care of." Amon shook his head and said nothing further. He glanced back at Yue and continued:

"Rest for tonight; we will begin the search tomorrow."

"Of course," like a patient wife waiting for her husband, Yue easily obliged. "Don't take too long, though. I can only keep the bed warm for so long."

Amon rolled his eyes and turned away from the inn, his patience thin. He had felt the entire journey—that sharp, unwavering gaze trailing him like a shadow, silent but ever-present. Whoever it was hadn't dared to approach or make a move, so he'd ignored it, letting them linger at the edge of his awareness.

But now they'd arrived in Espadavale, and the moment for avoidance had passed. This unfinished business had to be dealt with before he could give his full attention to the task ahead.

"Oh yes." Amon paused and glanced over his shoulders. Startled, the manager also halted and rubbed his palms with a beaming smile.

"How can I help?!"

"Is there a pub open? I need a drink."

"Haha, of course!" The manager laughed, happy to see that the mighty commander of Eldorin was just another man who loved to drink. "Walk down this road for three blocks. You'll come across the Tipsy Daisy. It has a large metal flower sign. You won't miss it!"

"Thank you."

Amon flicked a gold coin toward the manager, who caught it with a grin of greedy satisfaction. Unaware, the man beamed—blissfully ignorant of the quiet storm he'd just invited into the peaceful tavern.

❖❖❖

Just as the inn's manager had described, the Tipsy Daisy was one of the few establishments still open this late at night. Amon stepped through the pub's old wooden door, its hinges groaning in protest, echoing through the stillness like a warning. A hush had already settled over the place long before he arrived.

The air inside was thick with the scent of smoke, old wood, and something faintly metallic, like iron left out in the rain. The only person in the pub was its owner, a pot-bellied man in his sixties. Cleaning the glasses like they were his precious children, he raised an eyebrow after observing Amon's descent into his humble abode, only to sigh.

"Aeh fresh face? Out of town, are igyah?"

Amon steadily approached the bar and sat on a counter seat. The owner's thick accent wasn't pleasant on the ear, but it was enough for Amon to understand.

"Yes, two beers, please."

"Twoeh? Starting the night strong, haeh."

The owner quickly took his order and poured two glasses from his flower tap. The beer foamed out of the mugs, dampening the wooden counter as he laid them before Amon.

"Thank you."

Amon flipped a gold coin, forcing a wide grin on the owner's face.

"A well-paying customer! Thist rare! Most mi customers are misers! Just because of a few cultists, they forgot about mi pub!"

"Cultists? Do tell."

Perhaps because of how empty the pub was, the owner yearned for companionship at this time. Hence, he told Amon everything. The Demon Cult had increased its activities in Espadavale, flagrantly disregarding the law and terrorising the population. Most of the villagers are terrified to even step outside their houses, let alone get drunk at night.

"Mi sheriff been asking for help, but those bastards from bigger towns ain't want to come. Everything's a mess noew! If the Sword Saint were still around, we wouldn't have to worry!"

"Sword Saint? Have you seen him before?"

"Noeh." The owner shook his head regrettably. "When mi was born, the Sword Saint had long left our village! He was our pride, and we even have statues of him! But igryah… He disappeared and was never seen again. If not, how would those bastards dare to disturb mi peace?"

"..."

Amon chuckled and drank from his glass. This was the first time he'd been amused in months, and he relished every moment with this interesting barkeep.

"Don't worry, though! It will become better soon!"

"How so?"

"Heard of Solaris, iyargh? They are sending a Commander down! And a powerful one! Rumour has it that they are arriving anytime this week. Come to think of it… ya has black hair and golden eyes like one of em. Wait…"

"..."

Amon smiled and said nothing. It didn't take much for the pub owner to connect the dots. However, just as he could exclaim for joy, the old wooden doors creaked open again, slow and deliberate, letting in a chill that seemed to crawl across the floor like fog, revealing the silhouette of a foreign man.

Amon didn't bother to look back, but the owner could see the man's hooded figure—tall, lean, wrapped in a deep charcoal cloak that shimmered slightly under the tavern's low light. The hood was drawn low, casting the face beneath in shadow, but the presence alone was enough to stir unease.

The cloaked figure didn't speak. They momentarily stood inside the doorway, letting the door close gently behind them. Then, without hesitation, they crossed the room—not toward a table or the hearth—but straight towards Amon.

Sensing something was amiss, the owner wisely exited the situation, leaving Amon and the cloaked figure alone in the tavern after dark.

"You're late."

Amon joked while taking one more sip of his beer. Pointing to the other glass he ordered, Amon invited the foreigner to sit.

"I prepared a pint for you. I was afraid it would get warm before you arrived."

"You were expecting me?" The cloaked man replied with a tinge of surprise.

"Of course," Amon snorted. "Your presence is hard to hide, and when you've been watching me all week, it's hard not to notice you."

"I admit, I have been eager to meet you."

The mystery man climbed onto the high chair and pulled out his gloves. A calloused hand reached for the ice-cold beer, and after taking one big gulp, the man let out a satisfied heave.

"But, you are quite the popular man. Others tried to skip the queue."

"I take it you took care of them then."

"Peacefully."

The man laughed before taking one more gulp of his beer. The stench of blood was still spilling out from his cloak, not that it bothered Amon. He knew the man had just killed dozens of his enemies, so Amon would still offer the man a pint even if he reeked of death.

"Since you are here, let's not waste time. What do you want from me?"

"Hah, you are amazing. Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Why would I be afraid of a father concerned about his son?"

"..."

Those words stunned the mystery man. He'd expected Amon to sense his presence, but he didn't expect the young Knight to uncover his identity fully. It has been two decades since he'd last appeared, and no one has ever seen him in the flesh save a select few he trusted.

"I'll ask again. Lucas Bright, why are you here?"

The cloaked figure froze for a few seconds before breaking out into a hearty laugh. Pulling up his hood, the man bellowed: "Hah… you're amazing."

The man finished his beer with one gulp and slammed it onto the bar counter. Flashing his pearly white teeth, he said:

"That's right, I'm Lucas, Leon's father… Pleased to meet you, Amon Solaris…"

"..."

And that was how… Amon's first parent-teacher conference began.