The morning sun rose lazily over the peaks, casting long shadows across the valley as Jace and his companions prepared for the next leg of their journey. Though the warmth of daylight replaced the chill of the night, the group couldn’t shake the sense of unease lingering from the Forge of Eternity. Each of them bore their new weapons with reverence, their power undeniable, but the weight of the spirit’s warnings still hung heavy in the air.

Talla was the first to speak as they packed their gear. “We should chart our next move carefully. The artifacts we carry won’t go unnoticed. That means people—maybe worse—will be coming after us.”

“We’ve been hunted before,” Merra said, strapping Embercleave to her back. “What’s different now?”

Talla gestured to the weapons. “These aren’t just tools. They’re symbols of ancient power, and you can bet someone out there knows what they mean. If word spreads that we’ve been to the Forge, every fortune-seeker, mercenary, and zealot with a grudge will be on our trail.”

Jace nodded, his hand resting on Aegisbrand’s hilt. “Then we move quickly and stay ahead of the rumors. We need allies, information, and a plan for what comes next.”

The group descended the valley in silence, their surroundings growing greener and livelier as they moved further from the barren mountains. Streams of clear water trickled through the underbrush, and the songs of birds filled the air, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the forge. Yet the natural beauty did little to calm their nerves. The feeling of being watched grew stronger with every step.

By midday, the path widened into a small clearing. A crossroads lay ahead, marked by a weathered stone pillar carved with runes that time and the elements had worn nearly smooth. Merra crouched to inspect the ground around the marker, her sharp eyes scanning for signs of movement.

“Tracks,” she said, motioning for the others to gather. “Not fresh, but not old either. Looks like a group passed through here heading south.”

Darrin leaned on his staff, peering at the faint imprints in the dirt. “Could be travelers. Could also be trouble.”

“Let’s hope for the former,” Jace said. “But we should be ready for the latter.”

The decision to follow the southern path came quickly. It was the most direct route to Alder’s Reach, where they hoped to resupply and learn more about the Heart of the Forge and its connection to the runes they had uncovered. The journey stretched on for hours, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting the forest in a golden haze.

As they approached a bend in the road, the sound of distant voices reached their ears. Merra raised a hand, signaling for silence, and the group moved cautiously toward the noise. Peering through the trees, they saw a small camp nestled in a hollow just off the path.

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The camp belonged to a band of mercenaries, their mismatched armor and weapons marking them as seasoned fighters. A banner bearing the symbol of a snarling wolf hung limply from a makeshift pole near the fire. Five figures sat around the flames, eating and talking in low voices.

Talla frowned, her grip tightening on her daggers. “The Iron Wolves,” she whispered. “They’re known for taking whatever they want—and killing anyone who gets in their way.”

“Do we avoid them or confront them?” Jace asked, his voice low.

Merra’s jaw tightened. “If they’re not after us, there’s no point in picking a fight. But if they’ve heard about the Forge...”

Before she could finish, one of the mercenaries looked up, his gaze locking onto the shadows where they hid. “Oi! Who’s there?” he called out, reaching for his weapon.

The situation escalated quickly. Jace and the others stepped into the open, their hands deliberately away from their weapons, though the tension was palpable.

“We don’t want trouble,” Jace said, his tone calm but firm. “We’re just passing through.”

The mercenary who had spotted them—a burly man with a scar running down his cheek—sneered. “Passing through with a sword like that?” His eyes flicked to Aegisbrand. “Looks to me like you’re carrying more than you’re saying.”

Another mercenary, a wiry woman with a crossbow resting on her knee, smirked. “Artifacts fetch a good price. Maybe we should take a closer look.”

Merra stepped forward, her hand resting on Embercleave. “If you want to keep all your limbs, I’d suggest you back off.”

The air grew tense as the two groups sized each other up. It was clear the Iron Wolves weren’t going to let them leave without a fight.

The clash was swift and brutal. The mercenaries moved with the confidence of seasoned warriors, but they hadn’t anticipated the power of the weapons Jace and his companions now wielded. Talla darted between enemies with Shadowfang and Luminaris, her movements a blur as she struck with precision. Darrin unleashed bursts of magical energy, throwing their foes off balance.

Jace faced the scarred leader, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks. Aegisbrand hummed with energy, its runes glowing brighter with each strike. The leader’s confidence faltered as Jace pressed the attack, the sword’s power overwhelming him.

Merra, wielding Embercleave, cut through the remaining mercenaries with devastating efficiency. The greatsword’s flames danced with each swing, igniting fear in their enemies.

Within moments, the skirmish was over. The surviving mercenaries fled into the woods, leaving their wounded leader behind. Jace stood over him, his expression grim.

“Who sent you?” Jace demanded, his voice cold.

The man groaned, clutching his side. “No one sent us. We’re just trying to survive, same as you.”

Jace’s grip on Aegisbrand tightened, but he stepped back, letting the man crawl away. “Then survive somewhere else.”

As the group regrouped, the adrenaline of the fight gave way to a somber silence. The encounter had been a reminder of the dangers they faced, not just from the darkness threatening the world but from those who sought to exploit its power for their own gain.

“We need to move,” Merra said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “There could be more of them nearby.”

Jace nodded, leading the way back to the road. The echoes of steel and fire still lingered in his mind, a reminder of the responsibility he bore. The path ahead was fraught with peril, but he knew they couldn’t afford to falter.

Together, they pressed on, the distant horizon promising both hope and hardship in equal measure.