Lumberling adjusted his cloak and looked back one last time before stepping onto the forest trail. The morning mist still clung to the ground, curling around their feet as he, Liraeth, Vaenyra, and Aurelya began their quiet departure.

From behind, Thessalia stood at the edge of the city, arms folded loosely as she watched their figures fade into the haze.

"Come back safe," she whispered, her voice barely reaching the wind.

She stayed there for a while, eyes fixed on the path long after they had vanished. Only then did she realize how much he had come to mean to her. She thought of his laughter, his reckless grin, and the way he always looked out for everyone. Something in her chest softened.

He wasn't just a companion anymore, he had become family. His warmth, his wild spirit, the way he made them stronger together, it all made her heart feel strangely full.

Thessalia let out a quiet breath and turned back toward the camp, a small, almost hidden smile touching her lips.

….

"Alright, everyone," Lumberling said as they followed the forest trail. "When we meet my Senior, just follow my lead and go along with whatever I say, alright?"

Aurelya groaned softly and kicked a small pebble down the path. "You really call him 'Senior'? Why don't I just beat him up and save us the trouble?"

Liraeth sighed, shaking her head gently. "Don't be like that, Aurelya. He seems like a good man. Besides, we're in his territory." She paused for a moment, then looked toward Vaenyra. "What do you think, Lady Vaenyra?"

Vaenyra frowned slightly. "I told you already, drop the 'Lady.' I don't like titles."

"I… I'm sorry," Liraeth said quickly, bowing her head a little.

"Vaenyra is fine," she said, her tone softening. "You stand on the same ground as us. Don't think of yourself as lesser than anyone."

Liraeth blinked, then smiled warmly. "Thank you."

Vaenyra crossed her arms as they walked, her gaze drifting through the trees. "As for the Duke, he seems fine to me. But honestly, I don't want to stay here too long. This place is peaceful, yes, but the people here lack something."

"Lack something?" Liraeth tilted her head. "What do you mean by that?"

Vaenyra's gaze stayed fixed on the distant line of trees. "Drive. The hunger to get stronger. I understand what he's been through. But possessing something special as the cultivation path… once people find out, he won't last long in this world."

Aurelya snorted softly. "Yeah, he's lucky no one else knows about it yet. But it'd be naïve to think he can keep it hidden forever."

"Hey, don't talk like that about my Senior," Lumberling said. "I think it'd be good to form an alliance with him."

Aurelya looked at him sharply. "You serious? Didn't you hear us? Once that method spreads, he'll have enemies coming from every border."

Lumberling shrugged lightly. "I'm not saying we have to protect his secrets with our lives. I just think it's smart to learn what we can from him while we still have the chance."

Liraeth glanced at him, her tone soft but firm. "Just… don't get too close to him, alright? I have a feeling things won't end well for him."

Lumberling met her eyes and felt a faint chill run down his spine. 'A future insight?' he wondered, studying her expression more closely.

…..

At a certain part of the Stonepalm Duchy, Duke Hadric's army had set up camp around a fortified town.

A messenger came running up the dirt path, breathless and covered in sweat. "My Lord! The Viking army has been sighted, they're marching straight for us!"

Duke Hadric rose slowly from his seat inside the command tent. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "So, they've finally come," he said in a low, steady voice. "Prepare the men. Tell the Martial Adepts to ready themselves. We end this carnage here."

"Yes, my Lord!" The messenger bowed quickly before sprinting away.

Moments later, the horns of war echoed across the valley.

From the northern hills, the Viking army appeared, shields raised, axes gleaming, and their war cries rumbling like thunder.

At their front marched Sigvar, one of the ten chosen under Hroldir. His bare chest was covered in glowing tattoos, and behind him loomed the faint outline of a bear spirit.

"Forward!" Sigvar roared, his voice booming across the hills.

The Viking army surged forward, shields locked, axes raised high.

"Form the line!" one of Hadric's captains shouted. "Qi users to the front! Adept ranks, support from behind!"

The Duke's soldiers moved in perfect rhythm as they formed a solid wall. The air trembled as Qi began to flow through their bodies, faint trails of light gathering around their arms and blades.

Then the two sides collided.

The first impact was deafening, shields splintering under raw force. The Vikings fought like beasts, their strikes heavy and wild, but the Duke's men met them with calm precision.

Martial artists moved like water, flowing around each swing, redirecting blows, and countering with brutal efficiency. A palm strike caved in a chestplate. A spinning kick sent a warrior flying.

"What is this sorcery!?" one Viking cried before a surge of force sent him sprawling into the mud.

But the fear didn't last. These were men born in battle, raiders who lived and died in storms. With furious roars, they pushed forward again, trampling the fallen, axes hacking through the ranks.

….

Duke Hadric finally stepped onto the field, both swords drawn. Mana and Qi pulsed through his blades, the air around him humming with power. As he swung, arcs of green energy tore through the ranks ahead, cutting down anyone in his path.

From afar, Sigvar's grin widened. "So that's him," he muttered, excitement flickering in his eyes. "Their leader." He hefted his greatsword onto his shoulder. "Good. I've been waiting for someone worth cutting."

The Viking chief charged, the phantom bear spirit roaring behind him like thunder.

Their weapons met with a crash that shook the earth. Sigvar's greatsword came down in a brutal swing, and Hadric caught it between both blades.

Qi clashed with divine power. The impact blasted mud and rain into the air, knocking nearby soldiers off their feet.

"You're a tough one," Sigvar said, grinning through the strain. "I like you."

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