By the time they reached the outskirts of Eastgrove, Julian was limping, Blobby was asleep in his pouch, and Lira looked like she was ready to punch the next tree that existed too loudly.
The town itself was unremarkable—flat roads, gray walls, and the faint smell of burned turnips. It was surrounded by dry fields and stubborn fences, with a single watchtower and one bored guard chewing on a stick like it owed him money.
Julian stared at it. "That's Eastgrove?"
[Correct. Population: 412. Favorite pastime: pretending problems don't exist.]
Lira wasted no time. "We find my contact, get the info, and leave before someone points at Julian and yells, 'Witch!'"
"Hey, I'm a Mind Mage. Totally different."
[They won't care.]
They entered quietly. Julian kept his hood up, cloak wrapped tight, pendant hidden. He looked like a suspicious cabbage seller. Lira led the way, navigating familiar alleys and shady corners with the confidence of someone who'd walked into bad places before—and walked out of them.
They stopped in front of a small herbal shop squished between a smithy and an inn called **The Mild Axe**.
Julian raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like the worst name for an inn."
[Could be worse. Could be 'The Moist Tavern.']
The door creaked open as they entered the shop. Shelves of dried leaves, glowing jars, and strange bones surrounded them.
A woman in her sixties looked up from behind the counter. Her silver hair was braided tightly, her robes covered in burn marks. She didn't flinch when she saw Lira—just nodded.
"Thought you might come back."
"Need information," Lira said. "Urgent."
The woman's eyes shifted to Julian. "And he is?"
"The reason."
The woman snorted. "Of course. Come."
She led them through a curtain into a backroom that smelled like pepper and old parchment. Scrolls littered a round table. A faded map of the eastern continent was pinned to the wall with rusty nails and a dagger.
"Your brother passed through two months ago," she said. "He was heading to the Ironpine Range."
Lira tensed. "Why?"
"Rumors of a hidden archive. Pre-Guild. Built by mentalists. He believed they had something buried—something important."
Julian's brain tingled. "Like a relic? Or spell?"
"Like a failsafe," she said. "A weapon."
Julian rubbed his temple. "You people really need hobbies."
[This weapon may relate to your scroll. Possibly a counterpart or key.]
"So," Lira said, "we go north again. To the mountains."
Julian sighed. "Fantastic. Cold, altitude sickness, probably a Yeti."
[There is a 47% chance of magical yeti. 13% chance of ghost yeti.]
Julian turned to the older woman. "Thanks. You just made my life harder."
She gave a half-smile. "Better than shorter."
As they stepped back into the sunlight, Julian's spoon vibrated faintly in his cloak.
He stopped.
"What is it?" Lira asked.
Julian blinked. "I just... felt something."
[You've hit a milestone. Processing spiritual alignment… recalibrating aura…]
A shimmer flickered in Julian's vision. A status window appeared in his mind's eye:
---
**LEVEL UP!**
**Mind Mage – Level 3**
* New Ability Unlocked: *Mental Mirror* – Reflect the next mind-affecting attack back to sender.
* Mana regeneration slightly improved.
* Resistance to panic increased.
* You now instinctively understand when someone is trying to lie to you. (This will be fun.)
---
Julian grinned. "I leveled up."
Blobby squeaked in celebration.
Lira smiled faintly. "You're getting stronger."
Julian nodded. "And somehow, that terrifies me more than everything else."
[Good. Means you're still human.]
They walked toward the inn. For the first time in days, Julian didn't feel like he was surviving.
He felt like he was beginning.