Chapter 6

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Soon after the calamity, I found myself entwining my path once more with Petr’s cohort and the ever-endearing Lana. The echoing bane of the monstrous horde had been silenced, our chapter of nightmares finally closed.

The resonance and reverberations of the devastating burst had echoed all the way to our sanctuary, to where the cluster had sought refuge. Petr and Vaness were staged perfectly to spectate the grandiose scene of annihilation, and so, the recount of my victorious skirmish against the fiendish battalion through the invocation of a celestial rain was unanimously accepted.

“Undeniably, none amongst us can dispute your formidable prowess as a weaver now—or should we say, 'Archmage', Master Xandros…or perhaps ‘Lord’ would be more appropriate?” The voice that arose was that of Petr, as we congregated around the campfire, once the initial shock and awe had simmered. Lana had served me a comforting cup of sil tea, her soothing presence a balm amidst the chaos. Petr's voice was even, his tone placid, but beneath it, his expression was rigid. Around the circle, I noticed the apprehensive looks etched on the faces of Greg and David, the anxiety clouding Philip and Vaness, and Eryn's vigilant wariness. Lana, however, regarded me with a concern that felt personal.

“No, there's no need for formalities. I'm not a scion of nobility. I'm not a man of importance—merely your average denizen. I would rather you perceive me as ordinary, not extraordinary.”

In the comfort of my old life, the formal salutations of itinerant merchants were enough to unsettle me. I had no desire for such a lofty title, yet a creeping realization began to permeate the furthest corners of my mind. After performing such a monumental feat, there was no chance of blending back into the ordinary populace.

“But Lord Xandros! How can I possibly withhold the deserved reverence for you, the savior who obliterated the entirety of those monstrosities?!”

"Lord Xandros, you're a beacon of valor!"
As expected, the first voices to rise against my modest dismissal were those of David and Greg. In their defense, it was less of respect and more of fear shaping their reaction—a response I could hardly hold against them considering our recent encounters.

"I do want to affirm my gratitude," Petr interjected, taking the reigns of the conversation once again. "Had that unholy legion of fiends besieged an unsuspecting hamlet, the outcome would have been a bloodbath. But therein lies the crux of my unease. Should you, a man capable of obliterating such a formidable force single-handedly, decide to summon a celestial bombardment upon us, our predicament would escalate considerably. I trust you comprehend the gravity of this."

I drew in a deep breath. Yes, I understood their concerns all too well. Struggling to put them at ease, I clarified my position once more.

"As I've conveyed before, I am Emberus Blazeus Xandros, an Archmage hailing from a distant land. My knowledge about Dravus and its customs remains limited. Yet, I make this solemn vow to you—I bear no intention of employing my magic for malevolent purposes, nor to inflict harm upon you or this realm."

The murmurs of approval, uncertainty, and trust met my statement—Vaness, Greg, and David seemed to have loosened their tense postures a little.

"A vow? On whose authority? Is there a deity to whom you offer your faith?" Philip's response had a touch of a warrior-priest's tenacity. An intriguing question.

I pondered for a moment, considering my reply carefully. "Our deities might not align, but...I make this pledge in the name of the Lord God."

"That's...thought-provoking," Petr murmured, intrigued by my response. Clearly, my response had piqued his interest.

In the spectrum of divine entities and spiritual beliefs of my own world, the Abrahamic God seemed to be the most appropriate selection as I rummaged through my mental archive. After all, it was his will that transported me to Dravus, perhaps with the express purpose of combating the Fiends.

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