(Meanwhile, Riven’s POV, Southern Edge of Ashfang Village, Temporary Training Grounds)
The first signs that something was wrong appeared when the sounds of celebration abruptly changed, as what had once been the distant rhythm of festival drums and cheerful voices gradually became drowned beneath a growing chorus of screams that carried across the evening air from the direction of Ashfang Village.
At first, most of the recruits attempted to ignore it.
After all, they remained focused on their training, while the festival itself was taking place far away from the southern barracks where Garron normally taught them.
However, as the screams continued growing louder and more frequent, even the most disciplined students gradually found themselves becoming distracted, as one after another, recruits slowed their exercises before eventually stopping altogether, while conversations began spreading throughout the training grounds as more and more children turned their attention toward the village in the distance.
"What’s going on? Today is supposed to be the Moon Goddess Festival. Why did the drums suddenly stop? And why are people screaming?" one boy asked, as confusion became visible across his face while he stared toward Ashfang Village, causing several nearby recruits to exchange uneasy glances as they realized they had been wondering the exact same thing.
Instinctively, many of the children turned toward Garron for answers...
However unlike the recruits who appeared confused and increasingly unsettled by the disturbance, the instructor remained completely calm, as he merely glanced toward the distant village once before slowly nodding to himself, as though the unfolding chaos was neither unexpected nor particularly surprising to him.
Then, without showing the slightest trace of hesitation, he walked toward the center of the training grounds and clapped his hands loudly.
*CLAP*
The sound immediately drew every recruit’s attention.
"Alright, listen up," Garron said, as his voice carried clearly across the gathering while the children instinctively fell silent.
"Ashfang Village is currently under attack..... and if I’m not wrong, the attackers are the Yellowtail Tribe."
He informed, as for a brief moment, nobody seemed to understand what he meant, while several recruits simply stared at him blankly as though expecting him to explain why he was making such a bizarre joke.
However, once the meaning behind those words finally settled in, the atmosphere across the training grounds changed immediately, as confused murmurs began spreading throughout the gathered children while many instinctively turned back toward the village where the distant screams still continued echoing through the evening air.
"What do we do now? My master is back there...."
"Instructor, can we really fight with these wooden swords?"
"If my master dies, what happens to me?"
Several recruits spoke almost simultaneously, as the realization that the fighting was real immediately transformed the distant sounds of chaos into something far more personal.
However, instead of answering them, Garron simply raised a hand and waited for the noise to settle.
"No... I have no intention of picking my weapon up and joining this fight.
Nor do I have any intention of remaining here until the Yellowtail warriors carve their way through Ashfang and eventually reach this training ground," Garron explained, as his expression remained calm despite the chaos unfolding elsewhere.
"Let me frankly tell you, how this unfolds for you here out.....
So, for those of you who return to the village, your future will largely depend upon who wins tonight.
Most of you are children and slaves, so if Yellowtail captures you, they probably won’t bother killing you. They’ll simply sell you again and put you back to work somewhere else."
He continued, as many members of the Ultra Trash group immediately lowered their heads.
After all, none of them needed Garron to explain what slavery looked like.
They had lived it.
They had endured it.
And the thought of surviving tonight only to end up beneath another master felt almost as unpleasant as death itself to most of them.
"However, if that future doesn’t appeal to you, then I am willing to offer you another option."
Garron said, as the conversations gradually died down.
"You can come with me."
This time, nobody interrupted him.
"I will be leaving Frost Valley tonight and travelling south toward the Valdrak Empire.
So those of you who choose to follow me, will continue training under my supervision, and once we cross the border, I will help you secure enlistment positions within the Imperial Army where you can earn your keep and build a future for yourselves."
Garron explained, as more than a few recruits found themselves staring at him with widening eyes.
"For the first time in your lives, the choice belongs entirely to you. You can return to Ashfang Village and accept whatever fate awaits you there, or you can follow me toward the Empire and leave this place behind forever."
He continued, as his gaze slowly swept across the gathered children.
"I’ll give you five minutes to decide. After that, I’m heading back to collect my belongings before departing. Those who wish to follow me may do so. Those who don’t may return home. Either way, nobody will be forced."
Garron concluded, as the moment he finished speaking, the training grounds erupted into a sea of whispers, hurried discussions, and emotional reactions.
For many recruits, the decision barely required any thought at all, because the village they were being asked to leave behind had never truly felt like home in the first place, as it was difficult to feel loyalty toward a place where they had spent years being beaten, neglected, sold, or treated like unwanted burdens.
To children like that, Garron’s offer did not sound dangerous.
It sounded miraculous.
However, while many recruits gradually began reaching the same conclusion, Riven found himself rooted to the spot.
Because unlike the others, he was not merely deciding whether he wanted freedom.
He was deciding whether he was willing to abandon the hatred that had carried him through most of his life.
As the moment he imagined himself leaving Frost Valley behind forever, memories of his mother immediately surfaced within his mind, bringing with them the helplessness, humiliation, and grief that had followed him ever since her death, alongside the faces of the people he blamed for allowing it all to happen.
And suddenly, what should have been the easiest decision of his life became the most difficult one he had ever faced.
Because while part of him desperately wanted to follow Garron, escape Hagrid, and seize the future being offered to him, another part felt as though leaving now would mean abandoning the very purpose that had kept him alive through years of suffering.
And as the other recruits gradually began making up their minds around him, Riven remained completely still, because for perhaps the first time since arriving in Ashfang Village, he genuinely did not know what he wanted more.