GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Chapter 6.1: Recovery

The survivors of Oakhaven walked together for hours, away from what they used to call home. No one spoke much—exhaustion and grief hung heavy in the air.

They stopped twice to rest—once for Von to hunt while others foraged, again at a stream to refill waterskins. Despite the constant vigilance, no real threats appeared.

The first sign of other people came as a shock. A merchant caravan rolled past them on the road, heading in the opposite direction. The drivers and passengers stared at Vel's group with curious, wary eyes—taking in their torn clothes, haggard faces, and the way they huddled together like hunted animals.

Then, finally, the walls of Elnor rose before them across a sweeping meadow. The stone fortifications stretched three stories high, adorned with vibrant red and gold banners that rippled in the afternoon breeze. A steady stream of people flowed through the towering gates, with a separate line designated for merchants and their loaded carts

They passed through the entrance into the trade bazaar. Stalls and shops circled a grand fountain, scents of spices, bread, and leather mixing in the air. Beyond the market, a square split into three paths. Mora led them down the right fork toward the Guild building.

While the others waited in a small courtyard outside the Guild, Mora vanished inside. Vel sat on the warm cobblestones, absorbing the scene with a blend of familiarity and wonder.

This is surreal.

Giri's memories overlapped with the present, his original design clashing with the city that had grown beyond it.

Elnor had expanded. The streets had widened, bent to accommodate new buildings. Vines crept through broken roof tiles, moss spreading in the cracks. A puddle pooled where runoff had carved a natural drainage path—details he'd never thought to include.

But more than that, it was the people. Each one walked with different pace, different posture. Different clothes, colors, expressions. They weren't following simple routines. They were living.

The clouds gave way to warm sunlight, making him look up. The lord's mansion still stood on its hill, exactly where he'd placed it. But guards patrolled the walls now, their movements deliberate and watchful. It felt reinforced in a way his design never could have captured—real security, with real consequences for anyone who tried to walk through uninvited.

Under different circumstances, this would've been peaceful.

But the weight of Oakhaven's fate pressed heavily on his mind, making even this familiar place feel foreign.

Vel shifted where he sat, plucking at the grass growing between the cobblestones. Landre watched him, but her mind was elsewhere, gaze distant. Von stood off to the side, back facing them, posture rigid. They remained silent, waiting.

The Guild doors creaked open. Mora emerged, her expression carefully neutral as she approached them.

"We've got some mixed news," she began, her voice steady but tinged with weariness. "The good news is that the Vice Headmaster has agreed to help the survivors. Supplies and temporary aid can be arranged."

A murmur of relief rippled through those gathered, though Vel noticed Von's brow furrow deeper.

"And the bad news?" Von asked, his tone even but carrying an edge.

Mora let out a measured breath. "Elnor can't accommodate everyone at the moment. We're running low on both space and provisions."

The quiet settled back over them. Vel glanced at Landre, whose fingers were now clutching her amulet tightly.

Before anyone could respond, a figure emerged behind Mora, commanding immediate attention. Tall and sharply dressed in a meticulously tailored coat with gold embroidery, he had a silver chain gleaming against his chest, catching the scant sunlight in the courtyard.