As the sunlight faded, the air grew thick with the acrid scent of burned bandit corpses. The camp teemed with activity; survivors mended torn tents while others searched for usable supplies left behind by the fallen. Exhausted but determined, they used the camp as a temporary refuge before eventually heading back to town.

“Zaell, what happened? When did we get out of the cave?” Paul asked, his voice tinged with confusion. Jeyel, Rhyz, and Eijay turned toward Zaell, their faces showing a mix of concern and anticipation.

Zaell’s tone was gentle but firm. “Paul, can you recall what happened? What’s the last thing you remember?”

Paul struggled to piece together his fractured memories, but all he could summon was the heart-wrenching image of holding his lifeless mother in his arms. “I’m not sure... everything’s a blur after I saw my parents lying there,” Paul replied, straining to remember the events that followed.

Zaell recounted the astonishing sight they had witnessed. “We saw a bright green light approaching the hole. We knew it was you when you flew above us, glowing with that intense green light, just after we heard your anguished scream.

Paul stared at them in disbelief. “What exactly did I do? And why was I glowing?”

Eijay chimed in, excitement bubbling in his voice. “We don’t know for sure; we just assumed it was part of your ability.”

Paul shook his head in confusion. “The gift I received was the magic of flight. How could I possibly radiate light?”

Jeyel abruptly spoke up, his tone serious. “I might have an idea.”

As the group gathered around the crackling campfire, their attention turned to Jeyel, eagerly awaiting his explanation. Despite the din of the bustling camp around them, they remained focused on him, curious about what he had to reveal.

“I’m truly sorry for your loss, Paul,” Jeyel began, his voice trembling. “Though I don’t know you well, I can sense the kindness in your heart and the deep love you had for your parents. I regret not telling you earlier, but I believe I know what happened to them.”

Paul looked at Jeyel, confusion and sorrow etched on his face. Jeyel’s voice wavered as he continued, “When you first described them, I recognized their fate. I thought it would be better for you to uncover the truth on your own.” He took a deep breath, his expression heavy with emotion. “I saw them trying to fight back as the bandits forced them below the floor. Just before they were pushed toward the stairs, I saw your mother’s eyes glow like yours.”

“The same as mine?” Paul asked, grief lacing his tone. “What happened then?”

Jeyel's voice grew softer, filled with sorrow. “Yes, but her ability was different; she could manipulate the flesh of others. She was powerful—unstoppable. The bandits fell one by one, their bodies disfigured beyond recognition. But despite her strength, the sheer number of bandits eventually wore her down. Then the bandit leader arrived.”

Paul clenched his fists, the pain in his heart intensifying.

“Your father was strong too,” Jeyel continued, his eyes downcast. “He fought the bandits and the leader using only his bare hands. But he, too, was eventually worn out. They were taken below, and we heard screams until the noise stopped. That was the last time I saw them.”

“What happened after?” Paul pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jeyel shook his head, a deep sadness in his eyes. “We wanted to help, but the cells had magic items that shut off our abilities.”

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Jeyel hugged Paul before returning to his seat, still ashamed of the lie he had kept. Paul sat in silence, the devastating news settling heavily on him. His emotions churned beneath a calm facade as he processed the truth about what had been done to his parents and his people.

"I understand. You did the right thing. Thank you for telling me. And if what Zaell says is true, you helped me avenge them. I saw you all gave your best in the battle today," Paul acknowledged Jeyel as they turned to see Chris standing behind them.

Chris politely asked, "Pardon me, lads, but did I hear correctly? Did you say someone was glowing?" They nodded in confirmation.

“Paul, is it?” Chris turned to him. "You’ve been through quite an ordeal, haven’t you? But let’s not stray off-topic. You must be one of the green-eyed people from the stories I’ve heard in every tavern I’ve visited. They say that clan members possess the most fearsome abilities and that when they awaken, they gain the power they most desire. They don’t need a god’s blessing; they grant themselves their own. It’s said that this power can be anything—anything they desire most, with endless possibilities.''

Paul was puzzled. "I don’t quite understand what you’re saying."

Chris’s tone was straightforward. "Let me explain it simply. Imagine I’m from your clan. If I want metallic skin, I can make it happen if my awakening is successful. But according to legend, they only get one awakening in their lifetime. Once they unlock a power, they cannot change it until they die."

Chris then locked eyes with Paul, whose striking green eyes reflected the firelight. "So, young man, what is it that you desire most?"

Paul thought for a moment, his mind drifting back to his mother’s letter. "I had no idea. My mother actually wrote me a letter about our clan."

He pulled the letter from his pocket and showed it to the group, who eagerly read it together, hoping to learn more about his family’s history and secrets.

Chris stroked his beard, a look of disbelief crossing his face. "So the legends are true," he murmured. The group turned to Paul, their eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation.

"You could be the last living member of your clan, based on your mother’s lineage," Chris said, his voice laced with urgency. "Tell us, what is it that you desire most?"

Paul pondered, trying to recall his deepest wish. "I’ve always longed for the blessing of our God from back home. She gave me the gift of flight." His thoughts drifted to the memory of holding his mother, his heart burning with a desire for revenge.

"I think I understand now," he finally spoke, his voice carrying a new resolve. "Zaell, could you lend me a hand real quick?" Paul urgently asked.

Zaell recoiled in horror at the sight of Paul’s missing arm. "I’m sorry, but I can’t give you my arm. Are you feeling okay?"

“Not that, bro, I meant help me with something else," Paul chuckled, finally breaking into laughter after maintaining a serious demeanor for so long.

Zaell joined in the laughter, asking, "What do you need me to do?"

Paul requested, "I need you to provoke me, make me angry."

Without hesitation, Zaell delivered a swift, powerful punch to Paul’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground. As Paul fell, his body was enveloped in a vibrant, green aura that pulsed and shimmered around him.

Paul lay there, stunned as he observed the radiant glow surrounding him—a sensation he had never experienced before. It was the first time he had seen himself glowing, and the light gradually faded. It dawned on him that he possessed a second ability, though he was entirely ignorant of its nature and potential.

The camp grew quiet as everyone noticed Paul, whispers and murmurs spreading like wildfire. He quickly became the center of attention, with everyone having something to say about him.

Chris was astonished. "I can’t believe it! The only person in this entire world with a second ability is standing right in front of us."

“What about me?” Eijay said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You're different because you're a cheat,” Chris replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he crossed his arms, clearly enjoying the moment. Laughter erupted around them.

Eijay touched Paul’s arm as he flipped through the pages of his weathered grimoire, searching for the flight ability he had recently recorded. "Strange," he muttered, furrowing his brow. "I can’t seem to copy your other ability."

He then explained, "My grimoire is supposed to permanently copy the abilities of those I touch, albeit in a weaker form than the original user. So why hasn’t it copied your new ability?" Eijay was puzzled by this unexpected development.

"Maybe it’s because his magic is so rare that you can’t replicate it," Rhyz suggested. "So if you wanted the power to bring about the end of the world, could you get it?" he asked Paul.

"That might explain why our entire clan was targeted for extermination," Paul said thoughtfully. "Many must have desired to see us eradicated, just as my mother’s letter indicated."

"Luckily, the outcome seems to be less destructive, not the end-of-the-world kind," Zaell remarked, and the rest of the group nodded in agreement.

Amid the intense conversation, Paul suddenly remembered his pet wolf nearby. Hovering three feet above the ground, Paul said, “I’ll be back, guys,” giving his friends a confident nod before soaring into the trees to retrieve Black. The loyal wolf greeted him eagerly, licking his face and barking hopefully for food. Though Paul was missing a few limbs, Black’s unwavering enthusiasm for a treat didn’t wane.

When Paul returned, he couldn’t wait to introduce Black to his new friends. But before he could, a familiar face approached—a girl he had previously seen in the company of the obese slaver. She was striking, with curly brown hair and warm, deep brown eyes.

"Before anything else, I want to express my deep gratitude to all of you for rescuing us," she said, turning to Paul. "And to you, sir, I want to offer my heartfelt apologies for the loss of your parents and the suffering of your people. It was I who disclosed the location of your village to the bandits," she sobbed, sinking to her knees.