The departure of Apostle Samuel was like the abrupt ending of a grand drama, leaving behind a mess of emotions and an irreparable calm.
The villagers of Falling Wind Village, after the initial shock and excitement, felt a complex tangle of emotions when facing Luo Ling, the “living” Hero.
Once, Luo Ling was part of the village—silent, his origins unknown, but blended into the rhythm here.
He worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, breathing the same valley air as everyone else.
Children would cling to him, begging him to use his slingshot to knock wild fruits from the treetops.
Adults would nod in greeting in the fields, sometimes chatting briefly about harvests and weather.
But now, everything had changed.
The label of “Hero” became an invisible barrier, separating Luo Ling from the village.
Walking along the road, villagers who once greeted him warmly would unconsciously pause, avert their eyes, then walk away whispering.
Children no longer dared to approach, instead watching him from a distance with awe and a trace of fear.
Even Hunter Uncle Lao Ha, who once invited him to drink at home, now only nodded awkwardly before leaving in a hurry.
Luo Ling could feel these subtle changes—like fine needles pricking his heart.
Not sharply painful, but lingering and uncomfortable.
He tried to pretend he didn’t care, still hunting in the mountains, fetching water by the river, helping in Eve’s Herb Garden as usual.
But the sense of alienation clung to him like a shadow.
Once, the village blacksmith lost a newly forged Hatchet, and by coincidence, Luo Ling had passed by the smithy that day.
The blacksmith didn’t question him directly, but rumors began to spread in the village.
“Why would a Hero want a Hatchet?”
“Maybe it was knocked over by accident and forgotten?”
These words reached Luo Ling’s ears, bringing a chill and anger that cut to the bone.
He had never imagined that, one day, even the most basic trust would be lost to him because of the “Hero” title.
He went to the blacksmith to explain, but the blacksmith only gave an awkward smile.
“Luo Ling, it’s fine, it’s just a Hatchet. I found it, I found it.”
The forced smile felt like a slap to Luo Ling’s face.
He began to understand.
Being a “Hero” was not just an honor—it was also a distance.
People revered him, but also feared him.
They didn’t know how to interact with a “legend,” or whether that “legend” would suddenly leave or bring unknown danger.
Samuel’s words before leaving—”When the darkness descends”—hung over every villager like a foreboding omen.
Luo Ling felt an unprecedented loneliness.
It was worse than when he first arrived in this world, lost and empty-handed.
Back then, he had nothing—so he feared nothing.
Now, he had people he wanted to protect, a place he wanted to belong—but realized he was an outsider, rejected by those around him.
The only thing that never changed was Eve.
No matter how others saw Luo Ling, Eve’s gaze was always gentle and unwavering.
When Luo Ling returned from hunting, she would hand him warm water.
When he was disheartened by the villagers’ distance, she would quietly stay by his side, holding his hand.
When he was angry, she would gently comfort him.
“They’re just… afraid of the unknown, Luo Ling.”
Eve spoke softly as she bundled dried herbs.
“They’re used to a peaceful life. Suddenly a ‘Hero’ appears, along with the Prophesy of the Coming Darkness. It’s natural for them to be uneasy.”
Luo Ling sat on a stone by the Herb Garden, watching Eve work, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
“But… the way they look at me now, it’s like I’m some kind of monster.”
Eve put down the herbs, walked over, knelt in front of him, and reached up to smooth his furrowed brow.
“In my eyes, you’ve never been a Hero or a monster. You’re Luo Ling—the one who helps me fetch water, brings wild fruits from the mountains, and stays by my bedside when I’m sick.”
Her fingers were warm and gentle.
Her gaze was clear and sincere.
Because of her words, Luo Ling’s heart gradually settled.
Yes.
As long as Eve was here, as long as she believed in him and needed him, what did the opinions of others matter?
He suddenly pulled Eve into a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head and greedily breathing in the faint scent of herbs.
“Eve… thank you.”
Thank you for giving me the only warmth and anchor in this cold world.
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