"T-That… w-wasn't there before…"
Zhahara pointed his trembling finger at the Mage's chest.
"Wha—?"
For a moment, the Mage froze in fear. His body still hadn't calmed down, instincts were still screaming, his face was still pale, the fear he just felt was still vivid in his mind, clear to every last detail—and when Zhahara pointed at him—
That fear returned.
Slowly, he looked down to the area Zhahara was pointing at—
And finally—he saw it.
He saw it.
Just above his heart, a tiny flame flickered on his robe—a flame that felt like it would die any moment now.
And the Mage—
His body finally loosened, all that tense energy leaving him as a wide, carefree grin appeared on his face.
"Why do you look so shaken? You need to be braver than this, Zhahara, else you wouldn't survive in the ranks."
He gave another life advice before turning back toward the flames—
"Just this? It's just a little warm, no big deal. I can just shake it awa—"
