Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Chapter 65

Satou placed a hand on Kelvin’s shoulder. "Then keep training. Keep growing. You’re already miles ahead of where you were a week ago. Give it another few weeks, months, another year, and you’ll be formidable."

Kelvin nodded, determination clear in his eyes. Then his expression lightened slightly. "Besides, someone needs to keep up with Jessica. She’s getting so strong with her healing magic. I can’t let my little sister leave me completely in the dust."

"She’s only younger than you by a few minutes," came Jessica’s voice from behind them. She’d finished with her patients and joined them outside, a playful smile on her face. "And I could still beat you in a fight."

"You’re a healer," Kelvin protested. "You shouldn’t be fighting at all."

"Holy Maiden magic isn’t just for healing," Jessica replied mysteriously. "There are... other aspects to it. Protective magic. Enhancement spells. Even some offensive capabilities for dealing with undead and demons. I’ve been studying."

"Don’t tell me you’re planning to fight," Kelvin said, alarm creeping into his voice.

"I’m planning to be prepared," Jessica corrected. "I won’t be helpless again. Never again."

The siblings stared at each other for a moment, and Satou could see the understanding pass between them. They’d both been changed by their near-death experience. Both had found their paths forward. And both were determined to become strong enough to protect each other and those they cared about.

"Come on," Satou said, breaking the tension. "If there’s a feast in my honor, I should probably be there. Let’s go see what Grimnir and Urgak have planned."

The central square had been transformed.

Long tables had been arranged in a large circle, each one laden with food. The dwarves had indeed roasted a whole boar,it sat as the centerpiece, its skin crackling and golden, the smell making Satou’s mouth water. Around it were dishes from every culture in the settlement: orcish blood sausages, elven honey cakes, dwarven ale bread, and various goblin preparations that ranged from surprisingly appetizing to questionably edible.

Torches and magical lights illuminated the square, giving everything a warm, festive glow. Musicians had gathered at one end, a mixed ensemble of goblin drummers, orcish horn players, an elven flutist, and a dwarf with some kind of stringed instrument. They were playing a surprisingly harmonious blend of their various cultural music.

The entire settlement seemed to be present. Goblins and orcs mingled freely with elves and dwarves. Children of various races played together near the outskirts. Even Cassius was present, standing in the shadows at the edge of the square, a goblet of what was probably blood in his hand as he observed the celebration with an amused expression.

"Satou!" Grimnir’s booming voice cut through the noise. The Hobgoblin warrior pushed through the crowd, his scarred face split in a wide grin. "Finally! We’ve been waiting for you! Come, sit at the head table!"

Before Satou could respond, he was practically dragged toward a table that had been positioned prominently. Urgak was already there, the massive High Orc standing and raising a tankard as Satou approached.

"Our chieftain has returned to us!" Urgak announced, his deep voice carrying across the square. The noise died down as people turned to listen. "He who united goblins and orcs! He who killed a hero blessed by gods! He who lay at death’s door for a month but refused to die because his people needed him! Satou!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. Goblins shouted his name. Orcs beat their chests. Even the elves and dwarves applauded, having clearly been won over during their time helping rebuild.

Satou felt overwhelmed by the reception. He wasn’t used to this—to being celebrated, to having so many people look at him with respect and affection. It was humbling and terrifying in equal measure.

"Speech!" someone shouted. The cry was taken up by others. "Speech! Speech!"

Satou raised his hands for quiet, and the noise gradually subsided. He stood, looking out at all the faces watching him—so many different species, so many different backgrounds, all brought together by circumstance and choice.

"I don’t have a grand speech prepared," he admitted. "I’m not good with words. But I’ll say this—when I first came to this settlement, I was running from death. Just trying to survive one more day. I never imagined building something like this."

He gestured around at the rebuilt village. "This place, these people, what we’ve created here—it’s more than I ever dreamed of. We’ve proven that goblins and orcs can work together. That different races can coexist not just peacefully but prosperously. That being labeled as monsters doesn’t mean we have to act like monsters."

His voice grew stronger. "We’ve faced terrible threats. We’ve lost people we cared about. We’ve bled and suffered and nearly been destroyed. But we’re still here. We’re still standing. And we’re stronger now than we’ve ever been."

He raised his own cup. "So tonight, we celebrate. We celebrate our survival. Our friendship. Our future. And we honor those who aren’t here to celebrate with us—the ones who gave their lives so the rest of us could live. We’ll make sure their sacrifice wasn’t in vain. We’ll build something worth protecting. Something that lasts."

He lifted his cup higher. " To all of us, whatever we are, whoever we were! Together!"

"TOGETHER!" the crowd roared back, voices blending into one.

The feast began in earnest after that. Food was passed around . The musicians played with renewed vigor. People ate and drank and laughed with the freedom that came from having survived something terrible and come out the other side.

Satou found himself seated between Urgak and Lyra, who had appeared from wherever she’d been working. She looked tired but happy, her smile genuine as she watched the celebration.

"You did well," she said quietly. "The speech. You’re getting better at the leadership thing."

"I’m faking it," Satou admitted, taking a bite of the roasted boar. It was delicious—the dwarves really knew their cooking. "I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time."