The rain didn’t let up, its relentless rhythm blending with the quiet sounds of the forest. Somehow, soaked to the bone and shivering against the tree trunk, I managed to drift off. My dreams were vague and fleeting—images of glowing sigils, smoke wisping into the air, and the haunting smile of that orc with its glowing stump.

A firm hand shook me awake.

“Your turn, kid,” Trevor’s gruff voice broke through my haze. My eyes fluttered open to see him crouched over me, rain dripping from his hood. He motioned toward Heinrich, still soundly asleep, curled up a few feet away. “Keep an eye out.”

I groaned softly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The cold was sharper now, cutting through me as I adjusted my cloak. The forest around us was still pitch-black, the rain muting the usual sounds of the night.

Trevor didn’t leave, though. He sank down against a nearby tree, his sword balanced across his lap. I frowned, my breath visible in the cold air. “Why are you still awake?”

He held up a hand, shushing me sharply. “Don’t wake Heinrich. Let him rest.”

His voice carried an edge of exhaustion, but his sharp eyes remained fixed on the forest. His silence was heavier than the rain, and when he finally spoke, his tone was low and deliberate. “Listen, kid. You’ve got a lot to learn, or you’re not going to last long out here. I’ve been watching you. You’re soft. Too soft to be wandering outside walls without some serious backup.”

I stiffened, his words striking deeper than I expected. Before I could respond, he pressed on. “Look at you. Your clothes, your gear, even the way you move—screams that you’ve never had to survive out here before. And that ring of yours? Either you’re stupid, or you’re hiding something. My guess is the latter.”

His eyes locked onto mine, their intensity making me feel like a child caught in a lie. “Considering your weird class, that fancy evolution, and those rumors coming out of the Capital of Ash, I’d wager you’re the second or third prince. Stole your brother’s birthright, didn’t you?”

I blinked, the accusation hitting me like a slap. “What?” My voice was louder than I intended, but Trevor shot me a sharp look, silencing me again. I lowered my voice, glancing nervously at Heinrich, who hadn’t stirred. “I’m not... I’m not a prince. I’m just—”

“Just running from death,” Trevor interrupted, his tone flat. “I’ve seen your type before. You’ve got the look of someone who doesn’t belong, trying to blend in but failing miserably. You dress like a commoner, but you don’t know how to act like one. That ring? That’s not something any normal kid would have. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you avoid using it.”

I felt my stomach twist. His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I considered lying, spinning some story to deflect his suspicions, but his piercing gaze left little room for deception. After a long pause, I sighed, my shoulders slumping.

“You’re wrong about the prince part,” I muttered, my voice barely audible over the rain. “But... you’re not completely off. I’m running, yeah. From something big.”

Trevor raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. Reluctantly, I told him everything—or at least, most of it. I recounted the story of how I had acquired the living mana, the heist, the evolution, and One-Bill’s threats. I left out Hexa and the specifics of my Void Architect class, keeping those details buried deep.

When I finished, Trevor leaned back against the tree, letting out a low whistle. “You’re not just stupid, kid. You’re impressively stupid. Stole living mana? From a crown prince’s coronation? And then used it to evolve? By the gods...” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I almost gave you credit for being clever. Thought you were hiding something real big, but turns out you’re just an idiot.”

I scowled, heat rising to my face despite the cold. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He laughed again, his voice tinged with genuine amusement. “Lesson number one, boy: that crime boss didn’t give you a ring of identifium metal as a gift. It’s a tool. And a damn good one at that. Use it often. People might think it’s rude, but most can’t even tell you’re using it. It’s subtle.”

I hesitated, fidgeting with the ring on my finger. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s obvious,” Trevor interrupted. “You didn’t think. But you should start. I haven’t seen that thing glow once since we met. If you’d been using it, you might’ve learned a thing or two about the people around you.” He paused, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Like me.”

Stolen novel; please report.

My breath hitched. “You’ve... been using one?”

Trevor smirked. “Don’t need to. People like me, we’ve got skills for that. I’ve seen your profile, boy. Just the basics, but enough to know you’re not normal. That evolution of yours? It’s rare. And dangerous.”

Hexa’s voice echoed in my mind, her tone laced with unease. “He’s not lying. Evidently some profiles have discernment skills that bypass normal identification methods. He likely saw enough to connect the dots.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of Trevor’s words settling over me. He wasn’t just a grizzled wanderer. He was far more dangerous than I’d realized. And he’d been watching me closely, piecing together the puzzle of who I was and what I was hiding.

“Lesson number two,” Trevor continued, his voice softening slightly. “Out here, trust is earned. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use every advantage you’ve got. That ring? It’s an edge. Use it wisely. And don’t make the mistake of thinking you can bluff your way through everything. Sooner or later, someone’s going to call you out.”

He stood, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. “Now, get up. Your watch isn’t going to stand itself. And keep those ears sharp, boy. The gods aren’t kind to those who let their guard down.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I stood. The rain continued to pour, the forest around us a dark, oppressive void. As Trevor sank back down against the tree, his sword resting once again.

The rain continued its relentless assault, soaking us to the bone. The forest kingdom of Drugar lived up to its reputation—lush, dense, and utterly unforgiving. Days of trudging through the muck had left me feeling like a human prune, my hands wrinkled and raw from gripping the edge of my drenched cloak. Trevor and Heinrich weren’t faring much better. Their tempers frayed as the days dragged on, and even Trevor’s usually steady demeanor began to show cracks.

“We’re chasing ghosts at this point,” Heinrich muttered, his voice barely audible over the rain. He kicked a rock, sending it splashing into a puddle. “Caravan’s probably halfway to Pict by now.”

Trevor shot him a sharp glare but said nothing. His determination was palpable, driving us forward despite the miserable conditions.

I wanted to complain, to sink into the misery that weighed on us like the rain-soaked air, but something in Trevor’s unrelenting march kept me moving. Even Hexa had fallen unusually silent, her usual commentary absent as though the storm dampened her as much as it did us.

Then, just as my legs screamed at me to stop, I saw it.

Smoke. A faint, curling plume on the horizon, just visible through the curtain of rain.

“Look!” I shouted, pointing with what little energy I could muster. My voice cracked, hoarse from disuse.

Trevor halted, his sharp eyes narrowing as he followed my gaze. A flicker of hope crossed his face. “That’s a settlement,” he said, more to himself than to us. “Finally.”

Heinrich let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. “About time.”

We pushed on with renewed vigor, the sight of the distant town a beacon in the oppressive gloom. The walls came into view as we drew closer, their sturdy construction a welcome contrast to the endless wilderness we’d endured. This wasn’t a shanty town clinging to a guard post—it was a proper settlement, larger and more developed. The sight of the town gates made my chest tighten with anticipation and dread in equal measure.

The guards stationed at the entrance wasted no time in making their presence known. Two men in battered chainmail stepped forward, their spears crossed to block our path. Their faces were hard, their eyes sharp.

“What’s your business here?” one barked, his voice rough and unwelcoming.

Trevor, ever the quick thinker, stepped forward with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just some weary travelers, good sirs. Merchants, left behind by our caravan in the storm.”

The guard sneered, his gaze sweeping over us with thinly veiled suspicion. “Merchants, eh? Don’t look like much of a trade party to me.”

Trevor didn’t miss a beat. He gestured toward me with a casual wave. “The boy’s the young master here, from the Ash Kingdom. Potential head of a trading company. Heinrich and I are his hired guards. The storm got the better of us, and we’re just trying to catch up with our caravan.”

The guard’s eyes lingered on me, narrowing as if trying to measure the truth in Trevor’s words. I straightened under his gaze, doing my best to appear more “young master” than “soaked runaway.” My drenched and bedraggled state didn’t help, but Trevor’s calm confidence seemed to work in our favor.

After a tense moment, the guard grunted and stepped aside. “Don’t cause trouble,” he warned. “Town doesn’t need any more headaches.”

Trevor tipped his head in thanks, and we filed past the guards, stepping into the relative safety of the town. The streets were busy despite the rain, the townsfolk hurrying about their business under hoods and cloaks. The smell of wet earth mixed with the aroma of cooking fires and the faint tang of metal from nearby smithies.

The sight of the bustling settlement filled me with relief, though it was tempered by a gnawing worry. The caravan might not even be here. If we couldn’t catch up soon, we’d be left stranded in a foreign kingdom with nothing but the clothes on our backs—and even those were soaked through.

Trevor’s hand clapped my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “First things first,” he said. “We find an inn, get dried off, and figure out where the caravan’s headed. If it’s not here, we’ll need a plan to catch up.”

I nodded, too tired to argue. The promise of warmth and rest was enough to keep me moving, even as my legs threatened to give out.

As we wove through the crowded streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on us. Whether it was my paranoia or the genuine suspicion of the townsfolk, I didn’t know.