Yves worked tirelessly alongside the surviving villagers, his hands smeared with ash and blood. The sun had long since dipped behind the hills, and a smoky dusk settled over the ruins of the once-peaceful village.
Fires still burned in some places, but the chaos had mostly subsided. The people seemed clueless at what happened between him and the knight commander, but some knights were glancing at him, their eyes full of wonder.
Despite the devastation around him, Yves focused solely on helping the injured. It was a task that kept him busy—too busy to think about the words he had thrown at Alterain earlier.
His heart felt heavy, a mix of emotions swirling within him. Anger, sorrow, and guilt fought for dominance, but he refused to let himself dwell on them.
There were people who needed him, and that was enough to keep his mind occupied for the time being. Honestly, he just wanted to finish things quickly and disappeared.