Gray sat alone by the riverbank, the small wand resting across his knees.

  It was a simple thing — smooth dark wood, no longer than his forearm, etched with faint silver runes that caught the light like whispers.

  Rebecca had given it to him three weeks ago, on a quiet morning when the camp was still asleep.

  She had knelt in front of him, eyes soft but serious.

  “This was mine,” she said, placing the wand in his hands. “I used it when I first opened my 1st Circle. Its name is Lumen Whisper. It amplifies small spells — makes them sharper, more precise. For Earth Spike, it gives the spike more speed and penetration. For Water Ball, it adds a slight spinning force. It’s not powerful on its own, but it helps a beginner like you shape mana without wasting it.”

  Gray had turned the wand over in his fingers. It felt warm, like it remembered her touch.

  Rebecca’s voice dropped lower. “But Gray… do not use magic unless it’s necessary. Or unless you’re sure you can protect it. Anything related to magic is rare and valuable. Many others would buy it — or kill for it — right away. This is to protect you from their greed. Keep it hidden. Use it only when you must.”

  Gray had nodded. He understood.

  He still carried the wand now, tucked inside his tunic against his chest. It was a secret weight — a promise and a warning.

  Back in the present, Gray and Tamemoto joined the growing crowd near the market square.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The news had spread fast — a horde of trolls planning to attack Ashfall. It wasn’t heading directly toward Camp Tile, but the river road might be cut off. People were gathering weapons, boarding up stalls, whispering nervously.

  Gray and Tamemoto stood at the edge of the crowd, listening.

  Gray spoke low. “Since it’s not attacking us directly, we should take a look closer. Watch for stray trolls or anyone from Ashfall heading this way.”

  Tamemoto nodded. “I agree. We can scout the road. See if anything’s coming.”

  Gray looked around. “We need to know where the travelers saw the horde.”

  He spotted Rorik — the tall scavenger who had warned them before — talking to a group near the watch post.

  Gray approached.

  “Rorik,” he said. “Where did they see the trolls attacking Ashfall?”

  Rorik turned. “Half a day’s walk west, near the old ruins. Or five hours if riding a mount. The horde’s big — hundreds, they say. But it’s focused on Ashfall’s crater. Not coming here yet.”

  Gray nodded. “Any other details?”

  Rorik shrugged. “I talked to a wandering bounty hunter. He said this kind of thing happens a lot lately. Disciples, guild members, sons of nobles — they all come out here to get merits or experience. They hunt monsters, fight bandits, try to make a name. The world’s getting restless.”

  Gray and Tamemoto exchanged a look.

  Gray’s mind flashed back to the noble and the female squire from Solvaris — their arrogance, their duel. It made sense now. They were out here for “experience.”

  Tamemoto bit his lip. His voice was quiet but firm.

  “Gray… will you trust me?”

  Gray looked at him. He saw the seriousness in his brother’s eyes — the same determination that had grown over the last months.

  Gray nodded. “Tell me. What do you have? Let’s work on it together. I’ll follow your lead.”

  Tamemoto took a breath.

  “I think we should scout the road ourselves. Not fight the horde — just watch. If stray trolls or bandits come this way, we warn the camp. If it’s safe… we keep looking for more monster parts. We need to get stronger. For Gauis. For Rebecca.”

  Gray considered it. The plan was simple. Smart.

  He put a hand on Tamemoto’s shoulder.

  “Alright,” he said. “We’ll do it your way.”

  They turned back toward the hut to prepare.