They carried the retrieved crate southward toward the Masay River, where their gathering quest awaited. But the sun had already begun its descent, painting the sky in bruised hues of orange and purple. The riverbank was still a few miles off.

  “There’s a designated campsite just ahead. We should rest and continue tomorrow morning,” Dain suggested, his voice cutting through the evening quiet.

  “Sounds perfect. I’m absolutely starving,” Arsha said with a dramatic sigh, rubbing her stomach.

  “Hhuuugghh… finally. I can barely feel my legs,” Eira added in profound relief, her shoulders slumping as the adrenaline of the fight finally ebbed away.

  They gathered dry branches and kindling before arriving at the small, cleared campsite. Dain immediately began unpacking his gear with practiced efficiency.

  “Can I borrow your knife?” Arsha asked. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up something for dinner.”

  Dain handed it over without a word.

  “Take care, Master!” Eira called as Arsha disappeared into the growing twilight.

  Dain set up two small, sturdy tents, laying out thick comforters inside. The moment he finished, Eira practically dove into one of them.

  “Finally! My whole body aches,” she groaned, stretching out on the soft bedding. “You’re so reliable, Dain! You’re the best,” she teased, her voice muffled by the fabric.

  Dain simply cleared a safe area for a fire and arranged the branches into a neat pyramid.

  “Let me light it,” Eira offered, crawling back out. She focused, and a tiny spark leapt from her finger, igniting the kindling with a soft whoosh.

  A short while later, Arsha returned, holding two rabbits and a cluster of wild mushrooms. “I assume you can cook, Dain?”

  “I can,” he replied, taking the offerings. “But don’t expect a gourmet feast.”

  “Don’t worry,” Arsha purred in a teasingly sultry tone, tracing her lips with a finger. “I’m not a picky eater.”

  Dain pointedly turned his attention to the fire, his ears turning a faint, telltale pink.

  “Are we really going to eat them?” Eira asked, her voice soft with pity as she looked at the rabbits. “They’re so cute…”

  “In the wild, your survival comes before sentiment,” Dain stated, his voice firm but not unkind. “You can’t afford to be selective.”

  “But…”

  “No buts,” he said firmly, ending the discussion.

  “Dain’s right, Eira,” Arsha added, her voice turning serious. “Out here, you eat what’s available and rest when you have the chance. A monster doesn't care if you're feeling sorry for your dinner.”

  Dain prepared a hearty stew and roasted the choicer cuts of meat. When it was ready, he handed a steaming bowl to each of them. Arsha dug in immediately, while Eira hesitated, staring into the broth.

  “Haaahh, this is good,” Arsha declared with satisfaction. “You’ve got yourself a very reliable maid, Eira.”

  “I am not a maid,” Dain retorted instantly, his brow furrowing.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Hahahaha!” Arsha’s loud laughter echoed through the clearing. “Come on, Eira, eat up. Taste your maid’s cooking.”

  Eira glanced at Dain, half-expecting an outburst. But he just shook his head with a long-suffering look on his face. This calm, patient version of him was still new to her. The Dain she’d grown up with was hot-tempered; a jab like that would have made him erupt years ago. Even in combat earlier, he had been measured and strategic.

  She remembered their childhood games with Eldryn, fighting the small earth golems her mother summoned. Back then, Dain always charged in recklessly, roaring with enthusiasm, and was always the first to be ‘defeated.’ Now… he had become a true guardian. Dependable.

  A spark of competitive drive ignited in her chest. I need to grow, too. To become strong and just as reliable.

  She finally took a spoonful of the stew, closing her eyes as she tasted it. “Whoa… It’s actually really good!” I had no idea a rabbit could taste this good! She almost compared it to Nana Hera’s cooking but caught herself just in time.

  Dain then passed around the roasted meat, and the three ate in comfortable silence, the crackling fire pushing back the night.

  “You did very well today, Eira,” Arsha said, breaking the quiet as the fire crackled between them.

  “Did I?”

  “Without a doubt. That’s a mage’s primary role is to unleash decisive power when an opening appears. Earlier, Dain was creating those opportunities. Against a powerful monster, those openings are rare and fleeting. Do not force yourself to cast when you can’t, your safety must always be your priority.”

  Eira listened, her expression serious as she committed every word to memory.

  “Master, what about my healing spells?” Eira asked. “When is the right time for those?”

  “I might not be the best person to ask,” Arsha admitted. “My expertise is purely in destruction.”

  Eira looked puzzled but waited for her to continue.

  “Well… Sorcerers are broadly categorized into two paths: Mages and Clerics. Mages focus on destruction. Clerics specialize in healing and support; they usually have a strong affinity for Light magic. Sometimes Wind or Earth, too.”

  “Is it rare to do both?” Eira asked.

  “That’s precisely why I called you talented,” Arsha said, her eyes reflecting the orange flames. “Wielding both high-level offensive and healing magic is almost unheard of. I’m not sure there’s even a modern record for it.”

  “Also,” she added, “your spells carry a surprising amount of power for a beginner. And you’re doing it without a conductor.”

  “What kind would you recommend?” Eira asked.

  “A rod. It’s the most versatile. A staff grants raw power, and a wand offers precision. A rod is the perfect middle ground for someone like you.”

  “So you use a staff because it’s easier to aim lightning, you focused on power broadly?” Eira asked, slipping into her analytical mode.

  “Exactly!” Arsha chuckled. “Anyway, I’m exhausted. You two should get some rest as well. We have a long trek back to the city tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for everything, Master. Good night!”

  After Arsha retired to one tent, Dain and Eira remained by the dying embers.

  “You really did do well today,” Dain said quietly.

  “Thank you, Dain. But… it’s only the beginning. It’s not enough yet,” Eira replied.

  “Still not satisfied? It was an impressive first day of real training. Don’t rush your growth, Eira. Just… enjoy the journey,” he advised.

  Eira offered him a soft, genuine smile. “You’re right.”

  She then looked at him, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “You’ve grown so much, too, Dain. You’re so much calmer now. I still remember how quickly you used to lose your temper.”

  “Yeah, well,” Dain said with a wry grimace. “My father noticed that too. He put me through some… 'special training' to fix it. Honestly, I can still feel the pain when I think about it.”

  “Hahaha! So your father scolded you that hard, huh?” Eira laughed. “But the change is admirable.”

  “Thanks. I suppose all that suffering was worth it, then.”

  “It was,” Eira agreed warmly.

  “Get some sleep, Eira. Take the other tent. I’ll keep watch.” Dain said, nodding toward the unoccupied one.

  “But you need to rest, too.”

  “I’m used to it,” he replied, leaning back against a tree.

  Eira finally relented and slipped into her tent. As she fell asleep to the sounds of the nocturnal forest, Dain remained propped against the trunk, his hand resting near his blade. Even in a safe zone, some habits of a Royal Guard were too deep to break.