Either the guard was too nervous to give a proper report, or I was too disoriented to understand him clearly. Either way, it only took seconds for the word monsters to sink in.
Why? Why now?
The answer was obvious. We had left the main road - where constant traffic scared away anything foolish enough to approach a large group.
My knees went weak. Cold sweat broke across my back, an ominous chill crawling down my spine.
This was expected. This was why I was on watch.
But what use was I?
What could a clumsy untrained Mage like me possibly do?
As if to make it worse, the guards - those already awake and those hastily roused - turned their eyes toward me.
Waiting.
The full weight of a Mage's responsibility slammed into my chest. My stomach churned, threatening rebellion, and dizziness washed over me under those expectant gazes.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know where to begin.
Just as the pressure threatened to crush me, a voice cut in from my side.
"Guards!" Mr. Torban barked, sharp and commanding. "Report the situation to Initiate Killian!"
His tone left no room for hesitation, forcing both the guards and me into motion.
Only then did I understand his earlier warnings.
Someone was trying to sabotage this expedition.
I was inexperienced. Barely trained. I should have been assigned veteran guards.
Instead, we had been given a battalion just as green as I was.
"Monsters…"
The de facto leader of the guards—far too young for the role—hesitated, swallowing hard before forcing the words out. "H-Hiding in the grass and approaching slowly, sir!"
The idea lodged in my throat.
Hiding.
I glanced past the flickering firelight, into the darkness beyond the camp. Shadows shifted where the grass swayed in the night breeze, and my mind filled the gaps with teeth and claws. For a moment, I was certain something would leap out and tear me apart.
Before panic could claim me entirely, Mr. Torban spoke.
"How many?" he demanded. "What kind of monsters?"
His voice carried a sharp edge, anger layered carefully over fear. The question alone seemed to anchor the guards, pulling them back from the brink. One by one, they readied their weapons, forming loose stances. The rest followed quickly.
"Unknown, sir!" the young guard replied. "At least three! Possibly wolves - or wild mutts!"
I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I hadn't given a single order.
The guard noticed too. Jaw tightening, he turned away from me and began issuing commands on his own - something about forming a perimeter and readying bows. I barely heard him.
The world felt distant, muffled.
The guards moving with purpose should have calmed me. Instead, it made everything worse. Their lives - their lives - rested on me. The thought crushed my chest.
What if I made the wrong call?
What if someone died?
What if everyone died because I froze?
Back at the Tower, we had studied basic monster tactics. Engagement rules. Positioning. All of it vanished when I needed it most.
I would have drowned in that spiral of self-loathing if not for a sudden grip on my shoulders - fingers digging in, painfully solid.
"Sir," Mr. Torban said, voice low and unwavering, "you must act. Anything."
I met his eyes.
Behind the composure, I saw it - fear, deep and raw. He was barely holding it together.
So I had to.
I was the Mage here. For the Endless' sake.
I turned toward the darkness. My body trembled, a cold shiver racing through me, and only Mr. Torban's grip kept me upright.
Fire.
I could burn the grass, force the monsters into the open. My hand lifted - more for reassurance than necessity - as I reached for the flames already dancing on the kindling.
Then I stopped.
My fire wouldn't kill them. Not reliably. Worse, it might provoke an immediate charge.
What if I made it worse?
What if they left on their own?
I knew they wouldn't. That was cowardice talking.
I forced myself to breathe.
Think.
The guards had bows drawn, arrows ready - but no targets. Fire would reveal the monsters, but it would also force the engagement. What we needed was targets.
Then my eyes locked onto the bows.
The fire could reveal the targets.
But maybe… I could give them one without alerting the monsters.
I reached out, my magic enveloping the nearest bow. Possibilities unfolded in my mind - dozens of hypothetical futures branching endlessly - until I seized one.
Confidence surged, unexpected and intoxicating.
"Hey. You," I snapped. "Yes, you. Loose the arrow!"
The guard stiffened. "S-Sir?" He hesitated, then hurriedly added, "Forgive me, sir! I - I don't see a target!"
"That's fine," I said quickly.
The words gave me a precious second to correct myself.
"Just aim where you think the monster is," I pressed. "Guess if you have to. But be certain you're aiming at it - and that the arrow will hit. Wait for my command."
The guard frowned, clearly confused, on the verge of protest. I didn't give him time.
"Trust me," I said. "Now."
"…Yes, sir."
He raised the bow, breathing hard, forcing his doubt down. I tightened my grip on the magic, choosing the outcome I wanted.
"Now!"
The arrow flew.
At the same instant, I released the hypothetical effect on the arrow.
The shaft moved faster than it should have - curving subtly, unnaturally - guided by invisible force. A sharp whimper cut through the night, followed by a dark shape collapsing into the grass.
The guard froze, staring.
I felt a surge of pride - and nearly opened my mouth to explain.
A howl tore through the air.
"Aim again!" I shouted. "The other one!"
This time, the guard didn't question me. He obeyed instantly.
"Fire!"
The arrow launched just as a monster burst from the darkness, leaping toward us. For a heartbeat, terror crossed the guard's face - his aim was off, badly so.
It didn't matter.
My magic twisted the result, bending the arrow's path mid-flight. It struck the creature with lethal precision, punching through its spiked hide. The beast - a dog-like thing bristling with hardened protrusions - collapsed mid-lunge, rolling to a stop only a few steps away.
I jumped back, heart hammering, my composed Mage demeanor shattering instantly.
Before I could embarrass myself further, the guard dropped his bow, drew his sword, and finished the monster with a brutal strike to the head.
The arrow alone hadn't been enough.
Without the precision effect, it might not have pierced the armor at all.
The archer reclaimed his bow without instruction, already searching for the next target.
"There!" I pointed sharply, spotting a monster preparing to leap at a fallen guard.
There were risks. The arrow could hit an ally. Another guard was already charging in.
But I trusted my power more now.
"Ready, sir!" the archer called.
"Fire!"
The arrow flew.
No surprises this time.
It struck true, buying precious seconds. The monster fell, and the charging guard finished it moments later.
The remaining beasts were dispatched quickly.
When it was over, two guards were wounded - but alive. Their injuries weren't fatal, and Mrs. Helen was already being summoned to tend them.
Cheers rose from the camp.
They washed over me, hollow and confusing.
I felt pride - real, undeniable.
And guilt just as sharp.
I could have done better.
If I had trained. Planned. Practiced with the guards. If I had understood my magic sooner, thought more boldly, acted faster - those wounds might never have happened.
Still… this had been necessary.
A lesson paid for in blood, but not lives.
As the cheers continued, I stood there, torn between emotions.
Perhaps this was what it truly meant to be a Mage.
Honor.
And duty.