Time snapped back to the present—August 23, 9 a.m. The team wound along a mountain path where cliffs rose like knife walls. Weeds clawed their boots. A canopy stitched so thick it turned sunlight into dust.

The map said: cross this ridge, and the first stop waits—Castle [Dawnlight].

It was one of the Radiant Knights’ famed strongholds, a hive of hardened mercenaries and rover-knights. Their steel glinted like frost. The black fortress itself crouched like a behemoth, its defenses rivaling any citadel on the continent.

“Alright, everyone’s beat, yeah? Take five.” Medith smiled, helpless and warm, as weariness pooled under every eye like dusk under eaves.

Relief sighed through them like a breeze through reeds. They’d pushed two days and nights. Medith had cracked the whip, urgency snapping like a banner, insisting they hit the mountain before resting.

She’d napped on horseback, breath steady as a tide, claiming she was storing strength for a rainy day. The others traded looks—if that’s the plan, why run us ragged?

Shade gathered like cool water under the trees. Eyes slid shut. Yunita breathed steady against Milia’s shoulder, sleep soft as silk. The Lina Sisters sprawled on either side of Nameless, arms looped around his shoulders like ivy, dozing sweet.

Nameless stared at a wall of thickets that seemed to spear the clouds, gaze far as mist on a river. No one knew where his thoughts walked.

Sais twisted open a canteen and gulped. Water drummed like small rain. Fangge perched up in the crown of the tree above them, a lone watch-bird on a branch.

Pers looked lively as a spring, pen and paper bright in his hands. While the others slept, his lines flowed like streams, sketching each face in turn.

Iling flipped up onto a branch. Birds burst like thrown seeds. Squirrels flicked away like sparks. Fangge’s hand found the knife at her back before thought—a shadow snapping to a hilt—then eased when she saw Iling and let her spine melt into bark again.

“Nice reflexes. Faster than mine,” Iling said, landing beside her with a sun-bright grin.

Fangge slid a little away, space opening like a thin blade between them. “Can’t help it. The world’s a mouth full of teeth. Slip once, and it bites you dead in some ditch.”

“Is that so…” Iling’s smile thinned, a cloud crossing. “Aren’t you tired? Humans go two days without sleep and their souls fray like old rope.”

“I slept,” Fangge said, voice calm as still water. “Mask on. You couldn’t tell. If Medith can sleep on a horse lying down, why can’t I sleep sitting up?

“Sleep’s a tool. You learn to control it.” Her gaze dipped, then lifted. “But you—no rings under the eyes. If the Elf Clan resists fatigue, your sisters aren’t built like you.”

She glanced at the others’ gentle breaths. Iling shrugged, leaf-light. “Maybe I’m used to it. Scout runs go twenty-four hours, no flame, no flag. And Sprites can pull a little vigor from the world around us.

“I’m a different breed. I was born with sharper sight and sound. It’s in the bone.”

“Born sharp? You don’t all roll off the line the same?” Fangge’s curiosity flashed like a fish in clear water.

“Yeah,” Iling said, hands open to fate. “The Elf Clan’s magic is fixed at birth. Life and death lean on the wind.

“You judge roles by the well of mana you carry. And every Sprite’s got a gift—maybe hawk-eyes or fox-ears, maybe a fighter’s edge, maybe a mind like a clean mirror.

“Some have iron will. Some shoot and cut beyond reason. You don’t get a manual. You find it yourself. Me, I’ve gained something new. A boon like a buff.”

She tapped her chest, magic thrumming like a quiet drum. “I can release mana and share it, on purpose, within a radius. Their combat spikes like fire taking dry grass.

“You know this. Wind Magic chases speed. Speed is power.”

“Whoa…” Fangge breathed, a small gasp like sugar on the tongue, envy and wonder bright as a bell.

“Then—could you share it with me? Just once?” Hope lifted her words like a kite. Iling nodded. “Of course. We’re companions now. No need to stand on ceremony.”

“Companions…” The word struck, then faded like a ripple on a pond. “Ninjas don’t need companions. Never have…”

…

“I’ll scout ahead,” Medith said, palm on her belly as hunger growled like a drum. “And bag something wild. I’m starving for real mountain meat.”

Sais didn’t think. “Oh. Be careful on the—on the…” Sleep took her mid-word like a soft ambush. She folded into leaves.

Medith smoothed her hair, pinched her cheek with a mother’s mischief, then waved to Iling and Fangge. Her steps slipped into the green like a fox.

“Work that rapport, Iling,” Medith called back with a left-eye wink, a spark tossed and caught. Iling winked in return. Leave it to me.

“Yo, the Commander scouting herself? Not afraid someone steals her away?” Fangge’s tone tilted like a blade with a smile. “Then I lose big—ten days wasted, and I even ditched Gill.”

“Relax,” Iling said, warmth like noon sun. “Our Commander fears neither sky nor earth. Who’d dare ambush her?”

She reached to clap Fangge’s shoulder. Fangge slipped aside like lightning. The branch shuddered, leaves raining down like green coins.

Iling blinked, then understood. She tapped her own hand. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

Fangge said nothing. She eased back to her seat, breath flat as a lake. “Let’s… get back to the topic.”