While Dain cooked dinner, Eira seized the opportunity to learn more from Zowell.

  “Mr. Zowell, you mentioned you were an adventurer. Were you a healer?” Eira asked.

  “Isn’t it a bit obvious, given the shop?” Zowell replied with a faint, tired smile. “Yes, I was a Cleric.”

  “Did you complete the priest apprenticeship at the church?”

  “I did. And I highly recommend you do the same,” Zowell said, his voice gaining a thread of professional conviction. “It will give you a foundation of experience and knowledge that self-study cannot match. Though you’ll need savings to support yourself during the program.”

  “Ms. Enya told me the same. I’m preparing for the next batch,” Eira said.

  Zowell’s smile was genuine this time. “Good.”

  “Celica,” Zowell called out, “could you please go help Dain in the kitchen?”

  “Sure!” Celica responded, skipping away happily.

  Eira understood immediately; Zowell wanted to speak freely about the illness without Celica overhearing. She smoothly shifted the topic to accommodate him.

  “I heard the church is also working on a cure,” Eira mentioned, keeping her voice low.

  “I’ve heard the same. I can only pray the Cardinal has made some progress,” Zowell said, his hope tinged with desperation.

  “You mentioned making an antidote for venom earlier. I was thinking… What if this sickness acts like a venom? How does one even create an antidote?” Eira asked, leaning forward intently.

  “I’ve already thought of that, and surely the church has too. The principle is simple, though the execution is not. You need a sample of the venom and a creature that is resistant or immune to it. That’s another reason we must capture the warlock—to study its magic and find what can counter it,” Zowell explained.

  Eira listened, her brow furrowed in concentration, urging him to continue.

  “The traditional method is to inject small amounts of the venom into the immune creature. Its body will produce antibodies to fight it. We can use healing magic to support the creature and speed the process. Once enough antibodies are created, we draw their blood, separate the plasma, and finally, cast the last, most critical spell of the process: ‘Purify’.” Zowell detailed the complex procedure.

  “Purify? Can you teach me that spell?” Eira asked, her eyes alight with eagerness.

  “I cannot.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s an immensely complex spell that requires a dual affinity for both light and water magic. I lack the water affinity. For the antidote I was working on, I had to seek help from a high-ranking priest at the church to complete the final step,” Zowell explained, his tone apologetic.

  Eira’s face fell.

  “But, I hope you know Esuna?” Zowell asked.

  “Esuna?”

  “It’s a spell that cures common ailments like poison, venom, and paralysis—everything except that illness. It's more complicated than basic healing and is a core part of the priest apprenticeship curriculum. Consider it an advanced lesson from me,” Zowell explained with a kind wink.

  “Thank you, Mr. Zowell,” Eira said, her gratitude evident.

  Zowell wrote down the incantation and casting principles for Esuna, patiently offering advice. Soon after, Dain and Celica announced that dinner was ready.

  The meal that followed was a warm, boisterous affair, a world away from the silent, formal dinners of the palace that Eira had known since her mother's passing. For the first time in years, Eira felt like she was having dinner with… a family. The small table was filled with the clatter of dishes, warm laughter, and the savory smell of the food. Zowell and Eira traded stories and jokes, and much to his chagrin, Dain found himself at the center of most of them, his stoic demeanor relentlessly teased until a faint, embarrassed smile finally broke through.

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  Before Eira and Dain left, Zowell pressed several small vials of crimson liquid into their hands. “Take these healing potions as a token of my gratitude. Thank you, both of you,” Zowell said.

  Eira reached for them, but Zowell gently pulled them back and instead handed the entire batch to Dain.

  “You keep them, Dain,” Zowell instructed.

  “Why?” Eira asked, confused.

  “You’re the healer, Eira. If you’re the one who gets hurt, who will be in a state to heal you?” Zowell said logically. He looked at Dain seriously. “Use these only if Eira is injured, or in a dire emergency.”

  “Understood,” Dain replied, storing the vials securely in his pack.

  The simple, brilliant logic of it struck Eira. Her eyes widened. Of course! A fundamental aspect of party safety she had never considered.

  After a final round of farewells, they returned to their apartment. Eira retreated to her room to practice her new spell, while Dain worked on modifying the strap of his new greatsword for easier carrying.

  The next morning, they arrived at the guild equipped with their new gear and Eira’s newfound knowledge. They were scanning the quest board when Arsha arrived, her energy bright and early.

  “Well, hello there! Good morning, my beautiful student! And to her ever-reliable manservant!” Arsha greeted them joyfully.

  “Good morning, Master!” Eira chirped back.

  Arsha’s eyes swept over them, and she let out an impressed whistle. “Well, look at you two! Whoa, Eira, that’s a fantastic hat! And new weapons too! You’re both looking properly adventurer-ready now!” She leaned in to inspect Eira’s rod. “Ooh, very nice.”

  “I’m glad you like it, Master!” Eira said, beaming with pride.

  Arsha joined them in scanning the board.

  “What kind of quest are we taking this time?” Eira asked.

  “A quest with a high reward,” Dain and Arsha said in perfect, deadpan unison.

  Arsha’s face split into a wide grin. “I’m delighted we’re on the same page, Dain-bo.”

  “Dain-bo?!” Eira burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  “Please stop,” Dain pleaded, his face twisting in annoyance.

  “So, so, so,” Arsha mused, tapping a posted notice.

  “What about this mining expedition? It says it’s open to all,” Eira proposed, her mind also on finding rare ores for Daypan.

  In a flash, Arsha grabbed Eira by the shoulders, her expression suddenly deadly serious. “Eira,” she said, her voice low and intense.

  Eira froze, stunned into silence.

  “Mining,” Arsha stated, “with all that dirt, dust, and heavy lifting, is not a fitting pursuit for beautiful, elegant mages like us. Understood?”

  Eira, wide-eyed, could only manage a frantic series of nods.

  Arsha immediately released her and resumed her cheerful scanning as if nothing had happened. “How about this goblin extermination quest? It’s a multi-party operation, and the reward is substantial.”

  “But that village is a two-day journey on foot,” Dain pointed out pragmatically.

  “We’ll rent a carriage, of course,” Arsha said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “We might not have the funds for that upfront,” Dain countered.

  “Don’t you worry your head about it, Dain-bo! I’ll front the full cost for the carriage, and you can pay me back your share once we complete the quest. How does that sound?”

  Dain sighed. “...Alright.”

  “Excellent! Then let’s–” Arsha’s cheerful declaration was cut short as a group of adventurers crossed their path. A bald, heavily scarred man detached himself from the group and approached, his presence immediately casting a chill.

  “Yow, Arsha. Heard you got lucky last night,” the man, Nyx, greeted. His voice was flat, his smile not reaching his cold eyes.

  “Yow, Nyx,” Arsha replied, her earlier energy evaporating into nervous tension.

  “I hope this means you can pay me what you owe. Now,” Nyx said, holding out a calloused palm, his stare dark and unwavering.

  Eira and Dain hung back, sensing this was a private and dangerous matter.

  “Sorry, Nyx. All my funds are going toward this quest,” Arsha said, her voice strained as she showed him the quest sheet. “See? Big reward. You’ll have your money the moment we get back, I promise.”

  “You promise, huh?” Nyx’s voice was a low growl. “You know how I feel about broken promises.”

  “Yeah, of course, Nyx. We’re old friends, right…?” Arsha’s words trailed off as Nyx finally turned and walked away, the threat hanging unspoken in the air.

  Arsha let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her shoulders slumping in relief.

  “Who was that?” Eira asked cautiously once he was gone.

  “Just… a business associate. Don’t worry about him,” Arsha said, plastering on a bright, patently fake smile.

  Eira knew something was very wrong, but the clear dismissal in Arsha’s tone told her not to pry further. She pushed her concerns aside, choosing instead to focus on the adventure ahead.