The oppressive weight of the miasma lingered in the air as Emberlight cautiously made the long trek back. Though their mission had been completed, a lingering unease hung over them. The memory of the crimson troll’s malice and the entrapment of the miasma barrier had left a lasting mark on their minds. They moved carefully, their eyes scanning every shadow for signs of movement.

  The Ashen Glade was not completely silent—it seemed to watch as Emberlight backtracked under the canopy of trees surrounding them. Even with the troll defeated, the air remained thick, the scent of blood and moss fermenting in the underbrush. The faint hum of miasma hadn't faded; it had only changed tone, like a breath being held.

  Ash led the way cautiously, his katana ready to be drawn, every sense straining. Each crunch of leaves beneath their boots echoed too loudly, like they were intruding somewhere they didn't belong.

  “That troll shouldn’t have been capable of conscious behavior,” Nel muttered under his breath. “It adapted to our tactics… twisted the ice away from its foot. That’s not normal.”

  “None of this is,” Leona replied, glancing to the side. A row of trees loomed nearby—gnarled and bare, their trunks slashed as though clawed by something too large to hide in the glade. One tree bled black sap that hissed as it touched the earth.

  Grant grunted as he adjusted his shield arm. “We survived. That’s enough for now.” But even he kept his weapon raised, eyes flicking toward every shadow. Ash paused as they passed what looked like the body of a deer, half-submerged in roots. But as he leaned closer, its body twisted and faded, like smoke in reverse. An illusion? Or a memory left behind?

  “Stay close,” Ash murmured, his katana ready in his hand. “We don’t want to get separated if another barrier forms.”

  Grant, his shield raised, led the group through a narrow path flanked by twisted trees. “If it’s anything like that troll, we’re going to need every ounce of teamwork to get out alive.”

  Nel muttered something under his breath, his eyes flickering with faint arcane light. “The mana feels worse here… sharper. It’s almost intelligent, like it’s watching us.”

  Leona’s grip tightened on her staff. Her expression was calm, but Ash could see the tension in her eyes. “Whatever it is, we need to stay ready. I can feel it too. There’s something waiting for us.”

  As if on cue, the air shifted. A faint breeze stirred the trees—but it carried no scent, no sound. Just pressure. Leona’s amulet pulsed against her chest, dimmer than usual. Nel’s fingers twitched, staff held close, arcane sparks dancing between his knuckles. “I felt that,” he whispered. “It’s like a mana current just bent around us.”

  “Something’s coming,” Ash said, tightening his grip on his katana. A pale shimmer passed between the trees up ahead—almost like a reflection with no source. The leaves above rustled despite the stillness, and then silence dropped like a curtain. Not even insects dared to speak.

  From the edge of a crooked path, a shape emerged—at first, it looked like a traveler cloaked in magic. But as it drew closer, the illusion fractured. Its limbs were too long, its fingers jagged and bone-thin. Its skin pulsed with magical energy that swirled around its body.

  “That… that’s not human,” Grant said quietly.

  It lifted its head. No mouth, only a smooth surface split by glowing lines, and eyes—if they could be called that—that stared directly into them, unblinking and full of death. Then it disappeared.

  As they neared the outer edge of the glade, an eerie silence settled over them. The usual ambient noises of the forest had vanished, replaced by a suffocating stillness. Then, from the shadows of the trees, a humanoid figure emerged, its body wrapped in glowing sigils that pulsed with eerie, crimson light. Its appearance was almost human, but its elongated limbs, jagged claws, and lifeless, glowing eyes betrayed its monstrous nature.

  With a violent swing of the creature's arm, a shockwave of magical energy burst forth. Grant reacted instantly, stepping in front of the group and raising his shield. The wave struck with tremendous force, sending Grant skidding back but keeping the rest of the party unharmed.

  “What is that thing?” Nel shouted, his voice tinged with disbelief. “It’s like… magic given form.”

  “No time for theories!” Ash called, moving to flank the creature. “Grant, keep it occupied! Nel, cover us! Leona, stay ready!”

  The creature lunged, its claws slashing at Grant with blinding speed. Grant grunted as he blocked the blows, his cracked shield ringing with each impact. “This thing hits harder than the troll!”

  Ash darted in, his katana gleaming as he aimed for the creature’s exposed side. The blade struck true, carving a deep gash into its torso. Instead of retreating, the creature turned its glowing eyes on Ash, a guttural snarl escaping its twisted mouth.

  “It’s not going down easy,” Ash muttered, dodging a retaliatory swipe. “Stay focused!”

  Nel unleashed a torrent of flames, the magic engulfing the creature in a blazing inferno. For a moment, the flames obscured their view, but when the fire dissipated, the creature stood unharmed, its sigils glowing brighter.

  “It’s absorbing the magic!” Nel shouted, his eyes wide with alarm. “We need to take it down physically!”

  A low growl rumbled from Grant’s throat. “I’ve got this,” he said, charging ahead.

  “Wait—Grant!” Ash shouted, but it was too late. With his half broken shield raised, Grant sprinted toward the creature. It didn’t react—didn’t even flinch. As he closed the distance, Grant swung with full force. But before the blow could land, the sigils along its chest flared. With a motionless flick of its clawed hand, a concussive wave of arcane energy detonated point-blank. Grant’s scream was lost beneath the sound of ribs breaking and metal twisting. His body hurled backward, smashing into a tree with enough force to splinter the bark. He crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap.

  “Grant!” Leona’s scream cut through the clearing.

  “NEL, COVER HER!” Ash shouted, his voice sharper than steel. He darted in to intercept the creature before it could pursue her. Nel’s hands trembled as he conjured a barrage of stone and wind, his voice cracking through a hurried incantation: “Rock Blast—Fracture Now!” Ash’s blade danced around the sigils, aiming for the shifting gaps between glowing lines. Each strike dimmed a symbol—but it cost him ground. He couldn’t afford a single misstep.

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  “Leona, take care of him! Nel, keep it distracted!” Ash shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

  Nel nodded, his staff glowing as various rocks of different sizes and shapes were lifted into the air continuing to be flung. This immediately forced the creature to focus on him as it was bombarded with flying projectiles. Ash took advantage of the distraction, darting in with a burst of speed. His katana struck the creature’s chest, carving a precise and deep wound that made the sigils flicker and dim. The creature staggered, letting out a pained screech.

  Leona knelt beside Grant, her hands trembling as she channeled healing magic into his battered body. The usual warmth of her spells felt distant, muted by the suffocating presence of the miasma. Her breathing quickened, and frustration began to take hold as the color of Grant's face began to pale.

  “Why isn’t this enough?” she whispered, her voice trembling with anger and despair. “Why can’t I help you?” Tears welled in her eyes as she pressed her hands against Grant’s chest, the faint glow of her magic flickering weakly.

  “It’s not working,” she muttered, her voice cracking. “It’s never enough.”

  Grant’s breath was shallow, his armor dented and stained with blood. Leona clenched her fists, shaking her head as her frustration grew. Then, she closed her eyes, exhaling deeply as her despair gave way to determination.

  “I refuse to let this happen,” she said softly. Raising her staff, she clasped it tightly, her voice trembling as she began to pray. “Luminis, guide me. If I am to serve as your vessel, grant me the strength to heal. Show me the way.”

  A stillness fell over the battlefield, broken only by the sounds of Ash and Nel battling the creature. But in that silence, something stirred within Leona. A warmth—not her own magic, but something deeper, something ancient. It was as if a presence had wrapped around her, whispering in a voice that was both distant and intimately close. 'Child of light, do not fear. The path is before you.' Slowly, a soft, golden light began to emanate from Leona’s body, but this time, it was not merely her own power. It was as if she had become a conduit for something greater. The warmth of it wrapped around her like an embrace, filling her with certainty and calm. It was faint at first, but it grew steadily brighter, enveloping her in a divine glow. The warmth of it spread to Grant, and his wounds began to close, his breathing becoming steady.

  Nel, mid-incantation, glanced toward Leona. His eyes widened as he felt the surge of divine energy radiating from her. But then, just beyond the golden light, he saw something else—a dark aura, faint yet unmistakable, seeping out from the edges of her glow. It coiled in the air like wisps of smoke, flickering at the edges of his vision before fading as quickly as it had appeared. What… what is that? he thought to himself, his grip tightening on his staff. That’s not just magic… it’s something else. He hesitated, eyes narrowing. Had he really seen it? Or had the miasma’s corruption begun playing tricks on his mind?

  The golden light pulsed once, filling the air with an almost tangible sense of peace. The voice returned, soft and unwavering. 'You are more than a healer. You are a beacon. Let them see.' Leona’s breath hitched as the power surged through her, no longer hesitant, no longer weak. Leona’s hands steadied, and the glow of her healing spell became more intense, more purposeful. She opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face as understanding settled in her heart. She had never been alone. "It’s working," she whispered, her voice steady now. "Grant… you’re going to be okay."

  Grant’s eyes fluttered open, his voice weak but laced with gratitude. “Leona… you did it.”

  Ash delivered a final strike, his katana cutting through the creature’s chest. The sigils dimmed completely, and the humanoid fell to the ground, its body crumpling like a broken marionette, and then finally dissipating into thin air as if it had never existed at all.

  Nel approached cautiously, his staff still glowing. “Is it… dead?”

  Ash nodded, “It’s done. Let’s regroup.”

  Leona helped Grant to his feet, her magic still softly glowing around her hands. Ash’s gaze softened as he saw the renewed strength in both of them.

  “Good work, Leona,” Ash said. “You saved him.”

  She nodded, a small, proud smile on her face. “I think I finally broke through. I feel like I can do more now.”

  Grant chuckled, wincing slightly. “If this is what it takes to unlock your potential, remind me to stay upright next time.”

  The group shared a brief moment of levity before Ash gestured toward the path ahead. “We still have to finish the mission. Let’s move.”

  After finally escaping the Ashen Glade, Emberlight pushed forward, the encounter with the shadowy creature still fresh on their minds. They didn’t speak much as they traveled, each lost in their own thoughts about what they had faced. When they reached the gates of Valmaris, the city’s familiar sights and sounds were a welcome relief, but the unease never fully faded.

  The journey back felt lighter, their confidence renewed despite the trials they had faced. Ash submitted the Troll's magic core along with their report to Mirelle, who promised a prompt review.

  The next day, the party gathered in the guild hall, tension and anticipation filling the air.

  The AGA's hall fell into a hush as Emberlight stepped inside. Their clothes were torn, armor dented, faces drawn with exhaustion. But they stood tall. Whispers followed them.

  “That’s them… the ones who took down a Crimson Troll, and something worse after.”

  “They’re just Bronze Rank… right?”

  A trio of adventurers in polished armor leaned against the wall, eyeing the group. One smirked. “Looks like the bottom-tier brigade finally got lucky.”

  Another nudged him. “Lucky or not, they survived something we wouldn’t have.”

  Mirelle stepped forward, her expression unusually warm. “You’ve done what few Bronze Rank parties ever manage. Your report was reviewed. Your core analyzed. Your conduct evaluated.” She reached into a polished lockbox and withdrew four gleaming silver badges.

  “Congratulations, Emberlight. You’ve passed. Welcome to Silver Rank.” The hall erupted in applause—some genuine, some begrudging. As the cheers rang out, Ash stared down at the badge in his hand. The metal felt heavier than he expected. What would the members of Brighthollow think, he thought. For the first time in three years, he felt that he had accomplished something even they would be proud of.

  Mirelle’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Silver Rank means more than power. You’ll be trusted with lives, with truth, and with the weight of what lies beyond the veil. Prepare yourselves.” Ash raised his head and met her gaze. “We’re ready.”

  That night, the celebration was quieter than expected. Emberlight occupied a booth in the corner of a nearby tavern. A silver badge sat beside each of them, untouched. Their laughter was light, almost hesitant, like a group not yet sure they deserved it.

  Grant leaned back in his chair, arm tightly bound, bruising visible along his jaw and collar. “Silver Rank,” he muttered with a crooked smile. “Feels weird hearing it. Feels weirder wearing it.”

  “You nearly died,” Nel pointed out, half-serious. “I think you earned it.”

  “Nearly,” Grant agreed, his voice softening. “Leona made sure of that.”

  Leona didn’t respond at first. Her fingers played absently with the stem of her glass. “We almost lost you,” she finally said. “If that… whatever it was hadn’t answered me…”

  Ash glanced at her, watching the glow of lantern light flicker in her eyes. “What was that, Leona?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It felt… ancient. Not magic. Not just faith, either. Like something saw me. And chose to act.”

  Silence fell over the table. “Divine intervention,” Nel said at last. “Or maybe something worse that’s hiding behind a kind face.”

  Leona didn’t answer. But deep down, she wondered the same.

  Ash stood, raising his cup. “No more wondering tonight. We’re still standing. That’s what matters right now. To Emberlight.”

  The others raised their glasses in quiet unison. A bond reforged not by glory—but by scars.