A subdued hush cloaked Brightwood Orchard, as though its trees and fences alike awaited a moment of sudden disruption. The previous week's series of tense incidents—corrupted beasts, nighttime roars, and Kael's hidden interventions—had left lingering unease among the orchard workers. Yet everyday tasks could not be postponed indefinitely. People continued to prune branches, load fruit crates, and maintain vigilant watch on the orchard's perimeter, wary of the corrupted creatures that might strike again.
By now, Kael had grown accustomed to sensing tension in the air. Subtle changes—like the orchard workers moving in pairs or the watchers carrying reinforced staves—told him that his once-tranquil home now functioned under perpetual threat. Yet daily life pressed on, stoic and persistent.
A Quiet Morning and Careful Steps
Early dawn cast soft light across the orchard's neat rows. Kael found himself nestled near the forge once again, wrapped in a blanket and set upon a wooden stool so Mother could keep him close while she oversaw the orchard tasks. The clang of Father's hammer against iron echoed in the background, punctuating the orchard's subdued chatter.
Two new watchers, Garrett and Gray—recent arrivals seeking meager payment or perhaps a sense of duty—had taken up daily patrols. Kael watched them from a distance as they circled the orchard fence, scanning for signs of disturbed ground or claw marks. Although the orchard had not suffered another direct attack since Kael slew the corrupted weasel, an atmosphere of fragile calm persisted.
He could almost feel Father's tension every time the hammer struck. With each blow, Joren's brow creased with concern—for the orchard's safety, for the watchers' wages, and for what might lurk in the surrounding woods. Kael remained silent, quietly absorbing the orchard's rhythms. We survived the second boar attack and that corrupted weasel, but how long can we keep the orchard safe if the corruption grows?
Subtle Training and Incremental Gains
Over the next few days, Kael adhered to his usual hidden practice. Whenever orchard staff were preoccupied, he funneled mana in discreet ways—swirling a wisp of Air synergy in his hands, coalescing minor Earth synergy to shape small stones, or weaving Water synergy to manipulate droplets of dew. His body still limited him physically, but mentally, he capitalized on every spare moment to refine control.
One early afternoon, Kael sat propped against a bale of hay inside the barn. With watchful glances at the door—ensuring no one approached—he shaped a shallow sphere of swirling water in his palm. He guided the edges of Air synergy around it, hoping to keep the watery orb stable. The technique demanded careful balancing of elements.
[Notification: Minor Water Channeling (Novice, Lv.2) → advanced to Lv.3!][Notification: +1 Intelligence from focused manipulation of dual elements!]
An almost imperceptible wave of clarity brushed his thoughts, making him smile. He let the watery orb trickle away into the dirt, mindful to avoid suspicion.
That same evening, near twilight, he used small lumps of clay behind the barn to test a new skill variant: merging Earth synergy and a hint of Fire synergy to bake the clay into a hardened shell. He succeeded in forging a thumb-sized clay disc, faintly warm to the touch.
[Notification: Minor Earth Channeling (Novice, Lv.6) → advanced to Lv.7!]
Another subtle gain. Kael exhaled in quiet satisfaction, then buried the clay disc so orchard workers wouldn't wonder who made it. Every incremental step matters, he reassured himself. If a dire threat emerges, these small leaps could save lives.
Seeds of Restlessness
As watch shifts rotated and orchard tasks proceeded, Kael noticed tension building in Father. Joren's limp from the boar's kick had improved only slightly, and each day he hammered new fence brackets or sharpened orchard tools, his face set in a tight frown.
One afternoon, Kael heard Father murmur to Rowan, "We can't rely on borrowed watchers forever—our funds are too meager." Rowan nodded solemnly, understanding the orchard's precarious finances. Paying Garrett and Gray for daily patrols chipped away at resources otherwise used for orchard upkeep.
A hush fell. The orchard workers hated to admit they might soon have to let the watchers go, especially if no new attacks occurred. But they also recognized the risk: what if they disbanded the watchers, only for another monstrous incursion to strike unprepared?
Kael listened from behind the half-open barn door. We're balancing on a razor's edge, he thought. If I can help fortify the orchard with more wards or runic items, perhaps we won't need watchers long-term.
Yet forging wards or runic charms required elaborate inscriptions, time, and secrecy. Kael had only managed small enchantments in secret—like Father's ring or the subtle runic wedge. He lacked the freedom to craft orchard-wide wards without drawing suspicion. For now, patience.
A Meeting Over Supper
That evening, Father gathered Rowan, Garrett, and Gray near the forge to discuss orchard defense. Meria hovered nearby, holding Kael in her arms, half-listening while swirling a ladle through a pot of stew she'd set to simmer. The watchers reported minimal activity—no fresh tracks, no new sightings beyond the orchard fence.
Gray cleared his throat. "We suspect some beasts might prowl the outskirts, but your wards are decent. If nothing stirs in another week, we'll move on." He shrugged. "We can't linger indefinitely."
Garrett grunted, nodding. "We appreciate your hospitality, but we rely on bounties and posted threats to earn coin. If there's truly no more corruption creeping near, we might be best off checking other villages."
Father pressed a hand to his temple, clearly torn. "We do want you safe, but the orchard's finances…" He exhaled. "You've been a great help. Perhaps we can keep you on for a few more days—just to be sure."
Rowan and Meria exchanged glances, neither wanting to overspend orchard funds. Yet the memory of the boar's savage assault lingered. Kael felt the tension radiating from them. He squirmed in Meria's arms, longing to say: Don't worry; I'll protect you. But he remained an infant on the outside, forced to watch as adults debated economics and safety.
An Unexpected Guest
Two days later, near midday, a rider approached the orchard on horseback. Altheon, the traveling mage who had visited before, dismounted with a cordial greeting. He surveyed the orchard fence line, took note of new bracing, and gave Father a sympathetic smile.
"How fares Brightwood?" Altheon asked, tapping a staff lightly on the ground. He wore the same plain robes as before, though they looked a bit dustier from travel.
Joren sighed. "Quieter than it was, thankfully. The watchers have kept beasts at bay, or perhaps the corruption isn't as intense as we feared. But we remain uneasy."
Altheon nodded, stepping closer. "I'm en route to another village that reported sightings of corrupted creatures. I wanted to see how you fared. And to check the wards I placed—sometimes they weaken if monstrous mana intensifies."
Rowan guided Altheon around the orchard perimeter. Kael, in Mother's arms, watched from behind the barn. The traveling mage paused at each fence post, eyes glowing faintly with scanning magic. Tiny runes flared up, flickering green. Kael recognized Earth-based ward sigils, designed to repel lesser beasts.
Altheon frowned slightly. "Huh. Some wards show minor strain. It's faint, but I suspect a few attempts were made by corrupted creatures. Possibly they tested the boundary and left once repelled."
Father traded looks with Rowan, then with Garrett, who overheard. Garrett frowned. "So something might be skulking about, just outside the wards?"
Altheon lowered his staff. "Could be. Or it might be residual mana from passing creatures. Hard to say. But I'll reinforce them briefly. That should extend your protection another week or two—though if corruption escalates, you'll need a permanent solution."
Concerned Advice
Inside the orchard's makeshift common area, Altheon sipped water while discussing next steps with Father, Rowan, and the watchers. Kael sat close by, propped in Meria's lap, pretending to watch with wide-eyed baby curiosity.
"I still advise you to contact the local baron or the city's guard," Altheon said. "In times of growing corruption, rural orchards can't stand alone. A small squad of trained wardens might be stationed here temporarily."
Rowan exchanged a rueful look with Father. "The baron's levy might charge us taxes or fees we can't afford. Our orchard stands on the edge of his domain, and he's not known for generosity."
Altheon grimaced. "I see. Then be cautious. If watchers leave and wards fade, you're vulnerable."
Joren's shoulders sagged. "We'll do our best."
Kael found himself brimming with silent resolve. I'll find a way to keep them safe, even if the watchers leave. One day, I'll craft wards or charms that surpass these ephemeral runes.
Late-Night Whispers
That night, after the orchard had settled, Kael feigned deep sleep in his cradle while Father and Mother conversed in subdued voices. The glow of a single lamp revealed their tired faces.
Meria said, "We can't keep paying watchers forever, Joren. We'll go bankrupt. But I'm terrified of another monstrous boar or worse…"
Father ran a hand through his hair, wincing. "I know. The orchard's funds are nearly stretched. If nothing else attacks, maybe we'll let Garrett and Gray depart next week." He paused, glancing at Kael's cradle. "Still…we must protect Kael."
Meria's gaze softened. "He's just a baby, yet I feel like he's stronger than he seems. So calm even when chaos brews." She sighed. "But that's a mother's fancy, I suppose."
Kael's heart clenched. If only they knew, he mused silently. I'm trying to lighten your burdens, Mother.
As the lamp flickered, Joren's voice dropped further. "If worst comes to worst, we might have to abandon the orchard. Maybe move to the city. My forging skills could find work in a larger town. But… this orchard is our life's labor."
Meria squeezed his hand. "We'll endure. Let's see how the next days pass."
Kael's pulse pounded. Abandon the orchard? The notion stung. He refused to let that happen. If his mother treasured this orchard, he'd keep it safe. I must push my abilities further, carefully though.
Hidden Experimentation
The following morning, Kael wriggled out of his cradle earlier than usual, crawling to the open door while Meria was momentarily distracted. Outside, Father had begun forging new fence brackets again, but Kael slipped behind the shed. He took a deep breath, rummaging in the dirt until he found a small iron fragment leftover from forging. Maybe I can imprint a protective rune in secret again.
Cupping the iron fragment, he closed his eyes, channeling Earth synergy and a trace of Fire synergy to gently heat the metal. He envisioned runic lines—crude but resonating with the orchard's earthy vibe. The intention: a faint "shock" effect that might startle or repel small beasts if the metal was embedded in fence posts.
[Notification: Attempting Minor Rune Infusion with Earth + Fire synergy…]
Sweat dotted Kael's brow. He carefully layered the synergy, mindful of potential meltdown or miscast. After all, he was forging runes at an infant's scale. The iron fragment glowed slightly. He willed a small spark into the symbol, thinking of deterrence, not lethal force.
[Notification: Minor Rune Infusion successful. +1 Spirit from forging synergy into metal!]
A wave of mild exhaustion hit. Kael exhaled, satisfaction mingling with dizziness. The fragment now held a subtle weave of Earth-Fire runes, though quite fragile. If a small creature bumped it, it might deliver a mild shock.
Kael buried the glowing fragment near the fence line, half-concealed under a post. This is but a tiny measure, he thought. Yet every bit might help.
The Last Patrol
Several days trickled by. No monstrous sightings, no new roars. Garrett and Gray began murmuring about leaving soon, believing the orchard safe enough. Despite Father's reservations, the orchard could not pay them indefinitely.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
On the watchers' final scheduled day, Kael observed them from a distance. They walked the orchard perimeter at dusk, each carrying a lantern as pinkish sunset bathed the horizon. Father joined them, limping slightly, insisting on seeing the fence line for himself.
Kael watched from the porch, an uneasy feeling gnawing at him. He recalled how quiet nights often preceded an attack. Am I just being paranoid?
But as dusk deepened, the orchard remained calm—no distant howls or foul auras. The watchers returned, shrugging. "All clear," Gray announced. "Seems the orchard's fine."
Father's relief warred with caution. "We can't be complacent, but… we appreciate your help."
Garrett nodded. "We'll depart in the morning, then. Farewell if we don't see each other again."
Thus, the orchard staff breathed a collective sigh. Perhaps the corruption truly had moved on.
A Tense Nightfall
Darkness settled over Brightwood. Without the watchers, orchard folk resumed simpler guard patterns—pairs for an hour or so, then a rotating single watch after midnight. That first night post-watchers, Kael struggled to sleep, feeling an undercurrent of foreboding.
He dozed fitfully, half-dreaming of monstrous silhouettes creeping under moonlight. The orchard fence seemed to shimmer with an intangible threat. Am I imagining it? He woke in the cradle, heart racing, but all was quiet.
Eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he drifted into deeper slumber.
The Third Hour Intrusion
Deep in the night, under a moonless sky, a noise roused Kael from half-sleep—a distant, muffled cry. Instinct flared. Something's wrong.
He heard orchard workers shouting in alarm. Rolling free of the cradle, Kael crawled to the window. Torchlight flickered at the orchard's south fence. Father's voice boomed, tense. Another orchard hand yelled, "Get Rowan, quick!"
Mother stirred, alarmed. She scooped Kael into her arms, heart hammering. "Joren?" she called anxiously. She rushed outside, Kael pressed to her chest.
Near the fence line, torchlight revealed a large creature—a twisted shape somewhere between a wolf and a boar, thick-furred with a protruding snout and glinting red eyes. It snarled, smashing against the orchard fence. Several orchard hands jabbed pitchforks, but the beast's hide seemed unnaturally tough. A faint collar-like growth wrapped its neck—similar to the monstrous boar's brambled root collar.
Kael's pulse thundered. Another corrupted beast.
Rowan directed three orchard workers in brandishing spears. Father tried to block the beast's thrashing. The creature, half-lupine, half-swine, raked the fence with thick claws, warping the wood. One orchard worker stumbled back, fear etched on his face.
A Grim Dance of Defense
Lightning cracked overhead—only the barest flicker of heat lightning, offering faint flashes across the orchard. The corrupted creature howled, rearing on hind legs. A savage swipe shattered part of the fence. Father lunged forward with a makeshift iron staff, smacking the creature's flank. It staggered but retaliated with a fierce headbutt that threw Father back into a crate.
Kael's heart clenched. Father's hurt again. He felt Meria trembling, torn between motherly instinct to shield Kael and her desperate desire to help Joren. Orchard workers pressed in, but they lacked the watchers' training or advanced weapons.
"Brace it!" Rowan yelled, voice quavering. They tried cornering the beast near a stack of crates, but it spun, batting pitchforks aside. Dull red eyes flared with a vicious hunger. Blood dripped from its muzzle, implying it had attacked some unfortunate animal before assaulting the orchard.
Kael's Choice
Kael recognized the orchard's dire predicament. If he didn't intervene, someone might die. Yet revealing advanced magic as a mere infant risked unraveling his secret. He glimpsed Father lying dazed by a broken crate. Rowan's attempts to rally the orchard workers faltered under the creature's relentless assault.
No more time for hesitation.
He subtly squirmed free of Mother's arms, dropping behind a barrel. She barely noticed in her panic, rushing to Father's side. From behind the barrel, Kael pressed a palm to the ground. He let out a slow breath, drawing on synergy for an advanced spell. He recalled the technique he'd used on the boar's collar—Stone Wind Lance—but this time, perhaps the collar was tougher or hidden.
Lightning flared overhead, illuminating the monstrous silhouette rearing again. If I can break that collar or injure its neck, maybe it'll weaken.
With trembling arms, Kael molded Earth synergy into a compact lance shape, wrapping swirling Air currents around it to stabilize. The synergy clashed with his small body, but he poured in more will, refusing to let it falter.
[Notification: Stone Wind Lance (Basic, Lv.1) → advanced to Lv.2!]
A surge of sharpened control washed through him. The swirling projectile in his hands stabilized further, the earthen spike glinting in the torchlight. Kael inhaled, peering around the barrel. The beast roared, stepping closer to the orchard workers—any moment, it would maul someone.
He seized the opening and unleashed the lance. The stone projectile streaked across the yard, propelled by a slicing vortex of Air. It struck the collar with a loud crack, partially shattering the brambled ring. The creature howled in agony, rearing back as sparks of corrupted mana bled from the broken collar.
The orchard workers gasped. A few turned, confusion in their eyes—something or someone launched that earthen lance. Yet they didn't see Kael hidden in the dark behind the barrel.
Opportunity and a Surge
The beast stumbled, whining. The orchard workers, fueled by sudden hope, converged. Rowan jammed his spear into the creature's flank. Another orchard hand struck from behind, while Father, regaining composure, slashed at the collar's jagged remains with a broken fence piece. The collar snapped fully, sending a shower of corrupted shards to the ground.
With a final tortured roar, the beast collapsed onto its side, heaving ragged breaths. Its eyes faded from red to a dull gray. Freed from the collar's twisted mana, it seemed more frightened animal than raging monster. An orchard worker, trembling, delivered a swift end with his spear.
Kael's breath caught. Another life taken—but it had to be done. At least we saved the orchard from a worse fate.
[Notification: You have slain a Corrupted Wolf-Boar (Lesser). Gained 100 EXP!]
A dizzying wave swelled within Kael. The System's phantom voice continued:
[Notification: Level Up! You have reached Level 2.][You gain +5 Free Attribute Points to allocate.]
Kael's eyes widened. So it's true—I do get attribute points upon leveling. A subtle rush of warmth coursed through him, as though his mana channels expanded. He felt an urge to grin, though the situation remained grim. I'll examine the specifics once we're safe.
Aftermath and Racing Hearts
Panting orchard workers gathered around the slain beast. Father leaned heavily on Meria, wincing from bruised ribs. Rowan stared at the broken collar shards with revulsion. "Just like that monstrous boar's collar—someone or something is creating these twisted artifacts."
An uneasy murmur passed through them. If these collars were spread across the region, corrupting beasts, the orchard's trials might only be beginning. Nevertheless, relief overshadowed fear for the moment. They'd survived yet another monstrous incursion.
Kael quietly inched back, returning to where Mother had left his cradle. If anyone asked, they'd assume he remained in her arms or near the house. No one must see me with the synergy just yet.
A Subdued Gathering
Within the hour, the orchard workers had built a small pyre to dispose of the fallen beast's body. Father, exhausted and sore, sat on a crate near the barn. Mother fussed over him, applying salves. Rowan stood by, shaking his head at the orchard's luck.
"How'd that collar get shattered?" one worker asked, glancing around. "I saw some projectile, but in the chaos, I didn't see who launched it."
Rowan shrugged. "Could've been from the fence. Maybe a chunk of wood flew with unusual force, or—maybe the wards flared."Father rubbed his bruised arm, eyes narrowed. "Strange… but I won't question a miracle."
Kael, lying in his cradle as though asleep, eavesdropped. Good, they didn't suspect me specifically.
Kael's First True Level Up
By the time the orchard settled again, dawn was breaking. Tired orchard hands trudged inside for rest or warm food. Kael remained half-awake, adrenaline still coursing. He silently summoned his Status Window, a thrill racing through him.
Status Window
Name: Kael Ashborne
Talent: SSS (Hidden)
Age: ~6 Months
Core Grade: Unawakened
Physique: Omni-Element Physique (Sealed)
Level: 2
EXP: 50 / 200 (toward Level 3)
Strength: 4
Intelligence: 14
Spirit: 22
Agility: 3
Constitution: 3
Free Attribute Points: 5
Trait: Sage's Insight (Passive)
Skills:
Mana Sense (Novice, Lv.3)Minor Air Channeling (Novice, Lv.9)Minor Fire Channeling (Novice, Lv.4)Minor Earth Channeling (Novice, Lv.7)Minor Water Channeling (Novice, Lv.3)Earthen Flame Gust (Basic, Lv.1)Stone Wind Lance (Basic, Lv.2)Earthen Snare (Basic, Lv.1)
Kael's heart hammered. So that's it. I've finally reached Level 2. Pride mingled with a sense of responsibility. Gains from slaying corrupted beasts were clearly significant. But he had to remain cautious: I won't hunt them solely for EXP. That path leads to ruthlessness.
He pondered distributing the 5 free points. Intelligence improved mana control, while Spirit boosted synergy capacity. Strength and Constitution remained low, though not critical for a toddler—still, some baseline physical resilience might help. But for forging runes and synergy, mental stats matter more.
He quietly allocated 3 points to Intelligence and 2 to Spirit, trusting his father to shield him physically if needed. A faint ripple of warmth infused his mind and mana channels, clarifying his synergy flow.
[Notification: +3 Intelligence, +2 Spirit allocated. Updates applied.]
With that, Kael's new stats felt more robust, mental acuity sharper than ever. I must keep forging secret defenses for the orchard. If more beasts come, I'll be better prepared.
Dawn of Renewed Determination
Sun rays crept across the orchard, revealing the scorched ground where the wolf-boar had been burned. The orchard workers, exhausted but relieved, set about mending the fence once more. Whispers spread about yet another monstrous creature bearing a collar of corruption. Some worried about the orchard's future; others just wanted to fix the fence and move on.
Father tested his bruised ribs, grimacing but refusing to rest. "We'll rebuild stronger fences," he said firmly to Rowan. "Even if we have to scrounge for every scrap of metal."
Rowan nodded, though weariness lined his face. "We should also send word to nearby villages. If they find more of these collars or beasts, we might glean who's behind it."
Mother cradled Kael, relief and anxiety warring in her expression. "If we face more attacks… Joren, can we truly endure?"
Father softened. "We must, Meria. This orchard is our home."
Kael, nestled in her arms, gazed at the orchard's battered fence. We will endure, he silently promised. I'll shield you all.
Quiet Conversations
Altheon returned around midday—having sensed the orchard's wards falter the previous night. He paled upon hearing the details, examining the shattered collar remains. With a grave expression, he added new lines of runes to the fence posts.
"It's a temporary fix," he admitted. "These wards deter lesser corruption, but something is actively seeding it across the region. I suspect more trouble lies ahead."
Rowan's jaw tightened. "We can't keep relying on traveling mages. Is there a formal request we can file with the Mage Council or city guard?"
Altheon nodded slowly. "If multiple villages unify in their complaint, the city might dispatch a small battalion. But that takes time. Meanwhile, stay vigilant. These collars seem especially potent in warping beasts."
Father exhaled, glancing at the orchard workers. "We'll do what we must, as always."
An Inkling of Community Support
By evening, a nearby villager arrived, bearing news that another homestead up the road had encountered smaller corrupted creatures. Whispers of fear circulated: some rumored a demon cult roamed the forest, planting these collars. Others feared it was an ill omen from deeper in the kingdom.
Kael listened intently to each rumor. If demon-cult influence is at play, it might tie to bigger conspiracies, he thought, remembering faint recollections from Aerion's past life. No matter. For now, the orchard is my priority.
Exhaustion hung over everyone, but a thread of hope remained: the orchard was forging new alliances with neighboring farms, exchanging warnings and protective measures. A few farmers visited Brightwood, discussing combined watch schedules. Though no watchers could be paid, volunteers might assist occasionally.
Training in the Shadows
For Kael, the days following his Level Up were an opportunity to refine synergy usage with greater ease. He found that bending Earth or Fire synergy felt smoother, the mental strain reduced. One afternoon, in a secluded orchard corner, he practiced shaping small lumps of mud into hardened lumps—a prelude to more advanced runic forging. Each success came faster than before, confidence blossoming.
He tested small wind gusts to see how well he could direct them. By swirling air around a twig, he lifted it midair, only to set it gently down. If orchard workers happened to see, they might assume a stray breeze. Another time, he fused Earth and Air synergy to sharpen a pebble's edge, reminiscent of a miniature Stone Wind Lance. Control is everything,he reminded himself.
[Notification: Minor Air Channeling (Novice, Lv.9) → advanced to Lv.10. Skill has reached max level at Novice tier!][Notification: Minor Air Channeling can evolve to Basic Tier upon special practice or synergy fusion.]
Kael's heart skipped. So once he performed the right synergy or found the correct method, his Air Channeling would ascend to Basic rank, likely granting him more potent control. In time, he thought, this orchard may become a fortress of synergy and runic wards.
A Flicker of Calm
A week passed after the wolf-boar's assault. No further monstrous sightings occurred. Altheon's wards flickered nightly but held. Father and the orchard staff patched fences daily, hammered new brackets, and even replaced parts of the orchard gate with reinforced iron. Each night, they took turns patrolling, though weariness weighed on them.
During that lull, Kael's father limped less, his bruises healing slowly. Meria's anxious frowns eased somewhat. Rowan coordinated with other local farmers to share watchers on rotation, so the orchard's costs remained minimal. This fragile arrangement might last, if corruption truly subsided.
Kael watched this fleeting calm with mixed relief and vigilance. I sense no immediate threat now, he told himself, checking the orchard's mana flow with Mana Sense each dawn. But he refused complacency. We must be ready.
Dreams and Resolve
Late one evening, Kael dozed off in the barn, nestled in a basket of soft cloth. His dreams took him back to half-remembered images from Aerion's life: arcane battles, swirling demonic auras, allies and friends who'd died in the final breach. He saw hints of a world undone by corruption.
He woke with a gasp, heart pounding. The orchard's gentle hum greeted him—crickets chirping, the faint flicker of a lantern from Father's late forging session. Slowly, Kael exhaled. I have another chance now. I won't let corruption flourish.
He thought of his new Level 2 status, the orchard's battered fences, and the quiet determination shining in each orchard worker's eyes. The path ahead might be treacherous—these corrupted beasts and collars were only a glimpse of the dangers waiting beyond. But for now, Brightwood Orchard still stood.
I'll stand with it, he vowed silently. Until I can't stand anymore.
Next Steps Toward the Unknown
The orchard's hush that night held a sense of cautious optimism. Father eventually dozed off near the forge, forging hammer in hand. Rowan, finishing a patrol, chatted softly with an orchard hand. Meria folded laundry inside, occasionally rocking Kael's cradle.
Kael stared at the rafters overhead, envisioning how he might craft stronger wards or even help unify the local farmers into a protective net. I'm limited by my baby form, he mused with rueful humor. Yet each day, I gain strength.
In the days and weeks to come, he would quietly accumulate more synergy skill levels, perhaps even forge more runic scraps for the orchard staff. If corruption advanced, he'd intervene. Perhaps soon, the call of the academy would arrive—a chance to formally study magic and runic forging. But that future was still distant. For now, the orchard's struggles remained Kael's immediate crucible.
And so ended another tumultuous chapter in Brightwood, with Kael forging an unspoken bond: a child-guardian who secretly shaped the orchard's fate each night. Level 2 had brought him new clarity and fresh potential. The orchard's watchers might have departed, but Kael's watch never truly ended. Steeled by hidden power and unwavering love, he embraced the orchard's tomorrow—even if shadows loomed just beyond the fence line.