Karl wiped the last of the serpent's blood from his hands. For a moment his thoughts lingered on Ember, but he pushed them aside. The battle was over, yet the Wilderness never truly rested.
"Drael, Sylus and Dren guard the entrance," Karl said, his tone firm. All three obeyed without question.
Drael planted his great shield in the dirt outside the cave, his stance wide and unshakable like a wall of stone. Dren stood at his side, resting his heavy mace on his shoulder, his eyes scanning the dark forest with sharp focus. Sylus slipped away without a sound, his figure fading into shadow until only faint rune-glimmers hinted where he might strike from if danger appeared.
Satisfied, Karl turned to Ember who was perched on nearby rock, resting, wings tucked tight but eyes sharp, her presence both watchful and protective then back to the others. "Let's go, inside."
The group followed him into the mine. The air grew cooler with each step, and the faint glow of crystals lit the jagged path ahead. Shards jutted from the stone walls like frozen lightning, pulsing faintly with inner light.
Veyra walked with her bow drawn, arrow nocked, her sharp eyes flicking to every ridge and shadow. Renn carried a torch in one hand, spear in the other, keeping near Liora so the healer would not be left unprotected. Thorn padded behind them, his steps steady but restless, vines twitching and coiling as if the mine itself made him uneasy.
The air was thick here, saturated with essence. Every breath tasted sharp, metallic. Step by step they walked deeper into the mine. The crystal light grew stronger with every step. Walls shone all around them like a sky full of tiny stars.
Karl crouched by one of the glittering crystals, running his fingers across its surface. The pulse of energy was strong. Yet, beneath the beauty, something unsettled stirred in his chest. His instincts whispered of danger. He lifted his gaze toward the cave mouth where Drael, Dren, and Sylus kept watch.
Renn stepped closer, holding the wooden torch high. Its flames danced across the crystal faces, scattering sparks of light. "Should we start mining?" he asked quietly.
Karl shook his head, rising to his feet. "Not yet. These crystals are bound tightly to the stone. Digging without care could ruin them—or bring the ceiling down."
He straightened, his spear butt tapping softly against the rock as he gestured for the group. "Spread out, search for loose fragments we can collect by hand… or dig lightly where the stone is weakest. Later, we'll return to mine the deeper veins properly."
The group moved with quiet purpose. Thorn's vines slipped into cracks, pulling out small thumb-sized fragments that glowed faintly. Renn knelt, brushing dirt aside to uncover stray pieces, slipping them carefully into a pouch. Veyra worked with quick precision, marking weak seams with pale chalk so they could return later.
Karl moved deeper into the cavern, the steady tap of his spear echoing in the cavern as he tested the walls. Then—he noticed something.
In the next chamber, light gathered more strongly than anywhere else. A pale glow spilled across the floor, like moonlight poured from the rock itself. From the wall jutted a massive crystal cluster, its surface radiant, as large as Ember's head.
Karl's breath caught in his throat. "A Bronze III crystal…" he whispered.
He took a step closer, he had only taken a few steps when a sudden clang rang out from the entrance—a sound too sharp, too violent to be natural. Then, A grunt followed. Harsh. Pained. "Urghhh—!"
It was Dren's voice.
The crash of armor followed, followed by the heavy thud of a body falling.
Karl's heart froze in his chest.
Then Drael's roar thundered through the mine, rough and desperate. "Ambush!"
Karl spun on his heel, spear raised, eyes sharp. "Everyone—move! To the entrance, now!"
The sound of boots pounded against stone, echoing through the cavern. Renn's wooden torch bounced, casting flickering light that painted the walls in quick, jagged shadows.
When they reached the entrance, the sight stole Karl's breath.
Dren lay slumped against the cold stone wall. An arrow protruded from beneath his ribs. Blood spread quickly across the floor, dark and slick. Every shallow exhale rattled in his chest. His heavy mace still rested in his hand, but it had lost all weight, no longer a weapon—just a forgotten thing.
Liora dropped to her knees beside him. Her hands glowed pale, warm light, pressing against the wound. "My Lord—I… I can't save him. The injury…it's too deep. Too severe. My healing isn't enough!" Her voice trembled, cracking with fear.
Panic rippled through the group like wildfire. Thorn hissed under his breath, Veyra's bowstring quivered in her hands, and even Grok's bark-like skin seemed to pale in shock.
Karl's voice cut through the panic, sharp and firm. "Don't panic."
He crouched beside Dren, hands hovering, eyes burning with determination. "I think… I can heal him."
His gaze swept over the others, steady and commanding. Spear in hand, he pointed. "Drael, take the lead. Hold them at the entrance. Buy me some time."
The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder. Metal clanged against stone, echoing through the cavern. The enemy was pressing closer, a warband moving with purpose.
And then Karl saw him. Just beyond the flickering torchlight, silver eyes glimmered with hunger, cold and sharp.
The rival lord had arrived.