Some time after, the party simmered down until it finally ended. People returned to their homes and slept from exhaustion; others fell to the floor and drifted into deep sleep.
Cole didn't have a home there; kind citizens offered him shelter, but he refused. For some reason, Cole preferred to stay out in the cold night. At least he accepted the blanket offered by a young child.
He stared at the stars, astounded by the collection of lights in the night sky until he grew bored and fell asleep. When he was younger, one of his dreams had been to become an astronaut and soar into the adventures of space. Thinking back on it made him mock himself for being so naïve; such ambiguous thinking was just a trait of every child.
Just as the deity had instructed, Cole requested the smallest bottle available in the village and asked for a lid the same size. He filled the bottle with his red fluid and placed it beside him where he lay. They both experienced the chilling breeze and the disturbing bugs together. Though It was an experimental method; Cole still had faith it would succeed.
By a splash of luck, he managed to fall asleep despite a strong headache. He dreamed sweet, wonderful dreams he would never experience in real life. At the happiest point of the dream, he felt himself drown in a large body of cold water.
Instinctively, Cole shot up from his slumber and readied an attack stance. His target… a twelve‑year‑old boy holding a bucket in his hand?
Cole tilted his head in confusion. "What the hell…"
"Good morning, sir," a woman in traditional attire greeted with a warm smile. Beside her, two other women holding a change of clothes stood by. The men readied him a hot bath by digging up his own private hot spring.
Cole was pleasantly surprised; he was unaware of their reason for such hospitality, but he was immortal now, so he didn't need to heighten his guard. His eyes darted back to the ground where he sat; the small bottle glowed with a weak light.
Seeing this brought a smile to Cole's face, rarities such as an assumption being effective on the first try were scarce even for a skilled mercenary like him. Quite possibly it was a good sign, a signal that only positive things would happen, or so he wanted to believe.
The day's plan was simple. First, Cole would meet with the higher‑ups of Sant Flores—from the elders to the General of the cities Red Caps and finally the city mayor. He didn't plan on spending more than four hours on them, so they were informed beforehand. Honestly, Cole was a little excited to meet them; Sant Flores's power hierarchy and the city he came from were completely different.
Before that, Cole took the bottle with him, dashed to his personal hot spring, and took a light soak. In the end, his careless enjoyment of the warm water that soothed his skin and the steam that massaged his muscles cost him two hours of the day. Immediately realizing this, he jumped out of the hot spring, scurried to the changing shack, and wore some new clothes. He didn't have the luxury of cleaning himself up properly; he was already far behind schedule.
Cole emerged from the private bath with soaked clothes and messy hair. "Take me to your leaders," he commanded in a polite voice.
The citizens were a bit spooked but managed to arrange themselves accordingly. An entourage of villagers directed him—some acting as bodyguards, others simply for the sake of being there.
"What exactly is going on?" Cole asked, a tiny bit perturbed by their actions.
Straight down the road, after a few turns and up a couple of stairs surrounded by tall wooden watchtowers, Cole was led to the gathering of all the important people in Sant Flores.
Each step he took was more calculated than the last; something about the air was particularly heavy—or rather unpleasantly thick and warm. The atmosphere shifted to a more serious, concerning feel. Cole adjusted his demeanor accordingly, wore a grave face, and exuded an equally drab aura.
After climbing the last step, he saw them sitting in a circle, mid‑argument. From the looks on their faces, they were already deep in conversation that seemed to rip their composure beneath their feet.
Cole wasn't too concerned; prying about such matters would only further munch on his time. Instead, he kept silent and walked forward, letting his footsteps converse mixed with the dreadful aura he released. He headed toward an open seat.
The officials remained fixed in their positions, their eyes shaking as though the morning sun eluded their bodies. When Cole arrived at the vacant seat, he pulled up his shirt, straightened his jeans, and sat, crossing his palms and watching them as they watched him. Once the atmosphere became too intense, the mayor stood up and tore through the silence.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope we all rested well," he spoke with a wise yet playful voice.
"I'm pressed for time, so let's get to business." Cole disrupted.
Cole interjected with a sharp tone, "What will I be offered in exchange for saving you people?"
The General of the Red Caps stood. "How dare you insult the mayor, you scum!" he roared, his tidy uniform backing his authority.
Cole remained unmoved.
"What makes you think…" The area chief spoke out, "...Severing our bonds with the tree is helping us?" His words bore a heavy weight, pressing the heads of all those present—except Cole.
"That tree has been with us for several centuries, generations. It is our protector; it's because of it that the people of Sant Flores don't get invaded or attacked by indulgers. We honour and respect it for all it has given us," the area chief declared with enraged vigor. "What gives you the right to stroll in here and try to take it from us and still act high and mighty? You're a hypocrite, a thief, a wolf in sheep's clothing, a tyrant!"
No one said anything as they reflected on his words, except Cole.
"You say the tree protects you, so tell me… how did you then get attacked by that old woman?" Cole tried to find a loophole in his statement.
A brunette woman in traditional attire responded, "She never actually did anything to us; in all honesty, she didn't even scratch us. The person who did any damage to our people…" She hesitated, "was you."
'Who is she? And what does she mean?'
she continued. "Three people died because of you yesterday: the first was a young woman helping her parents carry a load from their farm; the second was an off‑duty Red Cap who happened to be in the area; and the third…"
Cole felt a stabbing pain repeatedly strike his chest, his heart uncomfortable as if it were being gouged out again.
"Was my husband, the bald man who was unfortunate enough to be severed because of your careless actions," she concluded.
Cole lowered his head in silence; a pained guilt was visible on his obscure face.
'He still holds human emotion?' the mayor thought.
"Thank you, General of Welfare; that'll be enough," the mayor said in a cheerful tone.
The woman bit her lips and yielded with displeased eyes.
The mayor then spoke after a long pause, "It may seem like the tree offers us protection now, but in future it will only attract more danger, and as time advances, indulger techniques and abilities will develop as well. Eventually there will come a time when the tree will fail us and become a burden to the next generation. The appearance of this foreigner proves it." Though his words were light, they bore thick truth.
He continued, "If there's a way for us to minimize that risk while finding a longer alternative for our people's security, then…"
The village chief bowed humbly before Cole, "…I and my people would happily assist you in any way possible, under the condition that you guarantee my citizens' safety for generations to come in place of our guiding tree."
The others exchanged glares; any protest would be pointless, since the mayor's offer was undeniably solid.
Cole let the gravity of the mayor's request sink in. He was stuck between lying and being as honest as possible.
Originally, he had planned to say the deity instructed them to release the binding at any cost, or it would punish the citizens with death—but after hearing the mayor's offer, he was blocked from all exits. Truly, the mayor's witty thinking and careful word‑choreography had created a perfectly customized sinkhole for Cole, the trait of a cunning person.
If Cole refused, he would be viewed as a one‑sided person and the one responsible for dooming the poor citizens to a future of torture and extortion by indulgers. Cole was unaware exactly how the tree protected them, but that was of little importance. The only thing that mattered was his decision.
The others watched Cole's lips; at the edge of their seats they braced themselves for his final decision. The mayor was surprisingly calm, as though he had foreseen the results beforehand.
Cole raised his head. "Give me your guiding tree and I'll offer your people an alternate safety—one that will prevent even the strongest of storms from breaking an inch of Sant Flores."
The mayor raised his brow and crossed his arms. "That being?"
Cole smirked confidently. "Leave that to me."