Chapter 140 - 135: A Day Without Battles
The afternoon sun slowly moved across the sky, painting Greenhollow in a warm golden glow.
The festival showed no signs of slowing down.
If anything, the streets had become even more lively.
Music echoed between the wooden buildings, the smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, and the voices of people enjoying themselves blended together into a sound John rarely heard.
Happiness.
Not the kind that came after victory.
Not the temporary relief after surviving a dangerous battle.
Just simple happiness.
For some reason, that felt stranger to him than any monster he had ever faced.
---
John stood near the edge of the festival grounds, looking at the small white flower still resting between his fingers.
The flower was simple.
Nothing special.
It didn’t contain magic.
It wasn’t a rare herb.
It wasn’t connected to some ancient dragon treasure.
It was just a flower someone had given him.
Yet he found himself keeping it.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"When did I become someone who keeps flowers?"
A quiet caw came from above.
The Soul Raven landed on a nearby wooden sign, tilting its head.
"You find it strange?"
John looked up.
"Did you just make fun of me?"
The raven stared silently.
Then it turned away.
John narrowed his eyes.
"...You did."
The ancient guardian remained silent.
But somehow, John knew it was amused.
---
"John!"
He turned around.
Lythriel and Sylvara approached, carrying several bags.
John looked at the amount of food they had bought.
"...Didn’t you already get honey cakes?"
Lythriel looked away.
"Those were different."
"They were the same stall."
"Different batch."
John sighed.
"You bought six."
"Seven."
"That doesn’t help your argument."
Sylvara covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
"I think she just likes trying new things."
Lythriel nodded proudly.
"Exactly."
John looked at Aerion, who had finally joined them.
"Please tell me you’re reasonable."
Aerion simply smiled.
"I have learned that arguing with Lythriel about food is a battle nobody wins."
John paused.
Then nodded.
"Fair."
---
The group continued walking through the festival.
Unlike earlier, John wasn’t simply observing anymore.
He was participating.
At one stall, an old woman convinced him to try a local fruit he had never seen before.
At another, a child challenged him to a game where they had to knock wooden targets over with small balls.
John deliberately missed several times.
The children immediately noticed.
"You’re doing it on purpose!"
John froze.
"...Am I that obvious?"
The little boy crossed his arms.
"Adults always do that."
The other children nodded.
John laughed.
"You’re surprisingly sharp."
The boy smiled proudly.
"But why?"
John looked at the children running around.
The answer came naturally.
"Because winning isn’t always the fun part."
The children looked confused.
"Then what is?"
John glanced toward the festival.
"Enjoying the moment."
For some reason, the children seemed to think about those words seriously.
Then one of them shrugged.
"Okay."
"Race you!"
The others immediately ran away.
John watched them disappear into the crowd.
Sylvara smiled beside him.
"You really mean that."
John looked at her.
"What?"
"That you enjoy this."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
---
A few years ago...
If someone had told him that he would one day spend an afternoon in another world, surrounded by friends, watching children play in a village festival...
He probably would’ve laughed.
His old life had been completely different.
Everything had been about survival.
Growing stronger.
Understanding his new existence.
Discovering why he was reborn.
And every answer only seemed to lead to a bigger mystery.
The Dragon King’s legacy.
Ancient beings.
The secrets hidden beyond Terraxos.
There was always something waiting.
Something stronger.
Something dangerous.
But today...
None of that mattered.
---
"You’re thinking too much again."
John looked at Aerion.
The elf had noticed.
"I do that?"
Aerion gave him a knowing look.
"Constantly."
John smiled awkwardly.
"Is it that obvious?"
"To people who know you."
That sentence caught him off guard.
People who know you.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
He was used to being alone.
Even after gaining companions, part of him still acted like he had to carry everything himself.
Because he was a dragon.
Because he was stronger.
Because everyone expected him to be.
But recently...
He was beginning to realize something.
Strength wasn’t the only thing that connected people.
---
As evening approached, the festival changed.
The louder competitions ended.
The streets became calmer.
Lanterns were lit one by one, hanging above the roads like small stars.
The entire village seemed to transform.
The warm sunlight was replaced by soft golden lights.
Everyone gathered in the central square.
John looked around.
"What happens now?"
Lythriel smiled.
"The final event."
"The final event?"
She pointed forward.
A large wooden stage had been prepared.
The village elders stepped forward.
The crowd slowly became quiet.
An elderly man stood at the center.
"Another year has passed."
His voice wasn’t powerful.
It didn’t need to be.
Everyone listened.
"We remember those who built this village."
"Those who protected it."
"Those who sacrificed so that future generations could laugh like this."
John listened carefully.
The words were simple.
But meaningful.
---
The elder raised a small wooden cup.
"To Greenhollow."
The crowd repeated.
"To Greenhollow."
Music began.
People danced.
Families gathered.
Friends laughed.
And John simply stood there, watching.
A peaceful scene.
A normal scene.
Yet somehow...
It felt more valuable than any treasure he had found.
---
Later that night, after returning to the inn...
John sat outside beneath the stars.
The village had finally become quiet.
The Soul Raven rested nearby.
"You enjoyed today."
John looked at the ancient guardian.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"I didn’t expect to."
The raven looked toward the village.
"Dragons often forget simple things."
John smiled.
"Because they’re too focused on power?"
"Because they live too long."
The raven’s voice became quieter.
"Power lasts."
"Names last."
"Legends last."
"But moments..."
The raven looked at the flower John still carried.
"They disappear quickly."
John stared at the small blossom.
Then carefully placed it beside him.
"I think I understand."
---
The door behind him opened.
Lythriel stepped outside.
"You disappeared again."
John looked back.
"I was just thinking."
"That’s dangerous."
He laughed.
"Is everyone here convinced I think too much?"
"Yes."
She sat beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
They simply watched the stars.
After a few minutes, Lythriel quietly said:
"You know..."
"What?"
"I’m glad we came here."
John looked at her.
She smiled slightly.
"Not because of the festival."
"Because you finally relaxed."
John was silent.
Then he smiled.
"Maybe I needed it."
Lythriel nodded.
"Everyone does."
---
Inside the inn, Sylvara watched them from the window.
Aerion stood beside her.
"They’re changing."
Sylvara smiled.
"Yes."
"For the better?"
Aerion looked at John sitting beneath the stars.
"I think so."
---
The night continued peacefully.
No monsters appeared.
No ancient enemies awakened.
No disaster arrived.
And for once...
John did not wish for anything more.
Because sometimes...
The greatest reward after countless battles...
Was simply having a day where there were none.
---
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