100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 854 - 864 - Aftermath

The battle had already ended by the time Lucien and Seran returned to the gate.

The first thing Lucien noticed was the silence.

It felt heavier than the fighting had.

Villagers stood among broken shields, discarded weapons, and bodies. Some still gripped spears with both hands even though there was nobody left to attack.

Luke saw Lucien first.

His shoulders visibly relaxed.

Then his expression hardened.

"My boy."

Lucien slowed.

Seran quietly moved half a step away from him.

Lucien noticed.

"Coward."

"I survived mercenaries and a dragon. I am not volunteering against your father."

Luke reached them and looked over Lucien’s bruised face and torn clothing before turning his eyes toward Seran.

Seran smiled politely.

Luke exhaled.

"Are you hurt?"

"Nothing serious."

That answer was enough for now.

The other villagers began noticing them too.

Auren raised one hand.

Tavian shouted Lucien’s name.

The tension that had held everyone upright finally broke.

People laughed.

Several cheered.

Someone struck a shield with the butt of a spear, and the sound spread through the group.

Lucien looked around.

They had survived.

That mattered.

But the celebration remained uneven.

Several villagers were smiling while tears ran down their faces. One man sat beside the wall staring at his hands. Another had wrapped both arms around his wife and refused to let go.

Mirelle still held her crossbow.

Her hands were shaking.

Aurelia stood close beside her.

Tavian looked exhausted, pale, and strangely alert at the same time.

Auren appeared steadier than before, although his eyes kept drifting toward the place where he had killed his first attacker.

Cienna moved constantly among the wounded. She checked cuts, cleaned injuries, wrapped arms, and ordered people to sit whenever they tried convincing her they were fine.

Luke had taken command after Lucien left.

The formation had remained intact.

When several Iron Jackals tried escaping, the villagers closed the side approaches. Those who continued fighting were killed.

None escaped.

Lucien listened to the report quietly.

Nobody from the village had died.

Several were injured.

One wound was serious enough to require close attention.

Still, everyone was alive.

Lucien closed his eyes briefly.

That was enough.

The relief lasted only a moment because the real work still waited.

The bodies could not remain outside the gate, and neither could the weapons.

If the Iron Jackals’ patron already knew about the village, Lucien wanted as little information as possible reaching anyone else before they spoke to the tax collector.

The villagers gathered the dead and placed their weapons separately. Armor followed. Money, medicine, tools, food, and other supplies were removed and recorded.

Tavian examined one of the swords before looking toward Lucien.

"We should melt these."

Lucien nodded.

Using the weapons in their current form would be foolish. Some carried markings. Others had recognizable fittings or shapes that could tie them directly to the gang.

"The armor too."

Tavian agreed immediately.

Anything that could be recycled would eventually return to the forge as raw material.

The bodies presented a more unpleasant problem.

Lucien looked toward Luke.

His father understood without needing much explanation.

They could not leave dozens of dead Iron Jackals beside the road.

The gang had approached through an indirect route, which gave the village some protection.

Auren confirmed that after inspecting the tracks.

"They did not use the main road."

Lucien followed him beyond the wall.

Auren crouched near the ground and pointed toward disturbed soil leading into the trees.

"They circled in from the west. Probably to avoid travelers seeing them."

"Can anyone track it back here?"

"Yes, if they know exactly where to look."

Lucien nodded.

"Then we remove what we can."

The villagers worked through the night.

The dead were carried away from the settlement and burned in a controlled pit far enough from the houses that the smoke would not settle over them.

Nobody enjoyed the task.

Nobody pretended otherwise.

The flames burned for hours.

Several villagers looked away whenever another body was added.

Others stared too long.

Lucien noticed everything.

The victory had protected them.

It had also changed them.

Mirelle sat near the wall for a while before finally allowing Cienna to examine a shallow cut on her arm.

Her hands were still trembling.

"I thought they would stop after the first few fell."

Lucien sat nearby.

"They believed the village would break first."

Mirelle looked toward the distant glow of the fire.

"They were wrong."

Lucien nodded.

Auren handled the aftermath differently.

He kept moving.

He checked wagon tracks.

He helped cover disturbed ground.

He inspected the western approach twice.

Whenever he stopped, his expression became distant, so he kept finding work.

Tavian retreated into something he understood better.

Metal.

He organized broken swords, damaged shields, buckles, armor plates, arrowheads, and anything else worth recycling.

By sunrise, he had already separated several piles according to what could be melted together.

Cienna continued caring for the wounded.

Luke supervised everything else.

Lucien moved between them.

He inspected the wall and the ground around it. Blood near the gate was washed away and covered with fresh soil. Broken wood was replaced. The shallow defensive ditches were repaired where the fighting had damaged them. Tracks leading toward the village from the Iron Jackals’ hidden route were disturbed as thoroughly as possible.

The public road remained largely untouched.

That helped.

The gang had chosen secrecy for their raid.

Now that secrecy worked in the village’s favor.

By the time the eastern sky began brightening, everyone looked exhausted.

Lucien gathered the adults who were still capable of listening and told them what the leader had said.

The Iron Jackals’ patron already knew about the village.

The reaction was immediate.

The victory suddenly felt smaller.

One man looked toward the road.

"So they will send more?"

"Possibly," Lucien said.

Another villager tightened his grip around the spear he had never put down.

Luke stepped forward.

"Then we deal with it properly."

Everyone looked toward him.

"The tax collector should return soon."

That eased some of the fear.

The older noble had visited the village regularly enough that everyone knew him.

He had always treated them fairly.

More importantly, his authority reached beyond the local arrangements protecting the Iron Jackals.

Luke continued.

"We have the ledger Seran recovered. We have proof of what these people were doing, and everyone here witnessed the attack."

Lucien nodded.

"If we reach the right authority first, whoever protects the Jackals will have a much harder time controlling the story."

That was the important part.

The village had defended itself.

They simply needed someone powerful enough to make that truth matter.

The night refused to end cleanly.

Nobody slept properly.

Those who had fought remained awake long after their work was finished.

Children and elderly villagers who had stayed hidden during the battle eventually woke to a village that looked almost normal again.

The wall had been repaired enough to hide the worst damage. Weapons had disappeared into storage. Blood no longer covered the gate. Smoke from the distant burning pit had thinned.

The people gave everything away.

Their eyes were red.

Their faces were pale.

Several moved as though they had forgotten how tired they were.

Lucien finally sat on an overturned crate near the gate.

His entire body hurt.

His head felt heavy.

He had barely closed his eyes when Auren called from the wall.

"Someone’s coming."

Lucien stood immediately.

So did everyone else.

The reaction was almost frightening.

Hands reached for weapons.

Crossbows were lifted.

Luke looked toward the road.

The village held its breath.

Then the approaching figures became clear.

A carriage was coming with mounted escorts and a familiar banner.

Someone near Lucien laughed with relief.

"It’s him."

The tension broke.

The tax collector had arrived.

Luke moved toward the gate.

Several villagers followed him.

Lucien remained where he was for a moment, watching the carriage approach.

The timing could not have been better.

The gate opened.

The tax collector entered with his usual attendants, although there were more mounted men with him than Lucien remembered from previous visits.

His expression carried none of the relaxed ease he usually wore when coming to the village.

The moment the carriage passed through the gate, his eyes moved quickly across the surroundings, searching the walls, the road, and the people waiting to receive him.

Only then did surprise appear.

The village had changed considerably since his last visit.

The reinforced wall stood heavier. The gate fittings were new, several wagons looked better built than before, and the forge had clearly been expanded.

His gaze lingered on those changes for a moment.

"For a month, you people have been busy."

Luke smiled faintly.

"Very."

The tax collector did not smile back for long.

His attention had already shifted to the villagers.

Too many of them looked exhausted.

Fresh bandages covered several arms and shoulders. A few people stood with the distant expressions of those who had gone through something they had not yet fully processed.

Mirelle held a cup in both hands without drinking from it.

Auren looked as though he had not slept.

Tavian still had soot and dried blood on his clothes.

The tax collector’s expression tightened.

He climbed down from the carriage and approached Luke more quickly than usual.

"I received word yesterday that the Iron Jackals had been asking about this village."

Luke’s expression changed slightly.

The tax collector continued before anyone could answer.

"At first, I thought they were only investigating your trade. Then one of my people heard that several of their men had left the city armed and were heading in this direction."

His gaze moved toward the wall again.

"I left as soon as I could."

That explained the additional escorts.

Lucien glanced toward the road outside the gate.

The tax collector had not come because the timing had conveniently aligned with their problem.

He had been trying to reach them before the Iron Jackals did.

He had simply been too late.

The tax collector seemed to realize the same thing.

His eyes stopped on a repaired section of the gate, then moved toward a villager whose forearm had been freshly wrapped.

His face became grim.

"They came here..."