Following Lucia's guidance, they traveled along a winding coastal path. The limestone cliffs dropped dramatically to their right, where the ocean stretched to the horizon in varying shades of blue and teal. Waves crashed against the rocks below, sending mist through the golden afternoon light.

  As they walked, Clive found himself mentally mixing pigments to capture the scene. The artist in him couldn't help but analyze every color, light, and shadow.

  "Isn't this beautiful," Clive exclaimed as he paused at a breathtaking overlook. He gestured toward the expanse of ocean below them. "Ultramarine for that depth, with just a touch of viridian. Those whitecaps… I'd need to build up layers of titanium white with a palette knife. God, what I wouldn't give for my easel right now."

  Lucia watched him with amused curiosity. "You really do see the world differently, don't you? It just looks like the sea to me… Now the soil, that is what interests me."

  She knelt down, pinched some dirt from beside the path, and to Clive's astonishment, placed it on her tongue.

  Clive's eyes widened. "Did you just... eat dirt?"

  Lucia seemed unfazed by his reaction. She rolled the soil around her mouth, eyes closed in concentration. After a thoughtful moment, she spat it out and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

  "Granite-based soil, slightly acidic. Low water retention helps create low yields which concentrate essence." She stood, brushing off her hands with a satisfied nod. "This soil is perfect for growing grapes. The wines from this area would be exceptional for potion-making."

  "You got all that from... tasting dirt?" Clive asked. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or disgusted.

  "Of course," Lucia replied matter-of-factly. "Any potion master worth their salt can read soil composition by taste. 'Terroir reading'. It's one of the first skills we learn."

  "Fair enough," Clive conceded with a laugh. "Though I prefer my methods with less... grit."

  "And I prefer mine with practical application," Lucia replied, gesturing toward the view. "Your sea is pretty, I'll grant you that. But I see a vast repository of rare algae, crystallized salt formations, and tide-polished minerals. That shade of blue you're so captivated by? It indicates a high concentration of lumina essence—incredibly valuable for night-vision potions."

  Clive shook his head with a rueful smile. They resumed walking.

  The breeze carried the scent of salt and wildflowers as they continued along the coastal path. As they rounded a bend in the path, the sun began its descent toward the horizon.

  "It's getting dark," Lucia observed. "We should find a place to set up camp."

  Clive glanced down the path, which continued for several miles along the coast. "It's fine, I can keep going. We might reach the town before it gets too late."

  But Lucia grabbed his hand to hold him back. The sudden contact made him turn to look at her face, which showed genuine concern.

  "It's not safe," she insisted. "The night is when monsters appear."

  "Monsters?" Clive repeated. He thought back to the fearsome creatures he saw in the Sea of Fragments, and a sense of dread fell upon him. He looked around and scanned the darkening landscape with new wariness.

  Lucia nodded, already moving off the path toward a small outcropping of rock that would provide shelter on three sides. "The God of Light offers his blessing and protection during the day. But at night, the world belongs to the Demon King."

  "Help me collect wood. We'll need a fire." Lucia began to collect fallen branches.

  As Clive joined her in gathering kindling, a distant howl echoed across the cliffs. It was an unnatural sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  "What was that?" he asked, instinctively lowering his voice.

  Lucia straightened and looked toward the darkening forest at the edge of the coast. "Shadowhound. They hunt in packs. Individually, not much of a threat. But in numbers, they’re still dangerous. We need that fire. Now."

  She reached into her satchel and produced a small clay pot sealed with wax. Breaking the seal, she sprinkled a fine powder around the perimeter of their chosen campsite.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "What is that?" he asked, arranging the kindling into a cone shape as Lucia had directed.

  "Boundary salt," she explained. "Infused with essence of daylight. Most night creatures won’t cross it." She paused, "Most."

  Another howl rose in the distance, answered by several more from different directions. Closer now.

  Clive struck a fire starter against a piece of flint, sending sparks into the kindling. He briefly considered painting a fire but decided against it. This was simple enough, no point wasting mana and letting his survival skills rust. After a few attempts, a small flame caught and began to grow. He carefully fed it larger sticks until a proper campfire blazed between them.

  The fire's warm light pushed back the encroaching darkness, creating a small circle of safety.

  "So," Clive said as he sat close to the fire, "tell me about this Demon King and God of Light."

  Lucia settled across from him with the firelight reflecting in her eyes. "It's the oldest story in the world. In the beginning, the God of Light, in his benevolence, created the world and all things in it. He filled it with beauty and wonder and claimed dominion over the day. But the God's brother, the Demon King, grew jealous of the Light's creation. He couldn't create as his brother did, but he could corrupt. He stole half of each day, what we now call night, and filled it with his own twisted versions of the God's creatures."

  Clive fell silent. A God of Light and a Demon King…

  Friends of yours, Certainty? Clive thought, directing his question to the goddess.

  [Certainty: Kind of… In a way, I know them yeah.]

  And which side of this conflict are you on?

  [Certainty: Sheez, so many questions. The world isn't divided so cleanly into sides, Clive. Perhaps worry less about cosmic politics and more about those shadowhounds circling your camp.]

  "These monsters," Clive said, turning his attention back to Lucia, "they're corrupted versions of normal animals?"

  "Some are," Lucia nodded. "Shadowhounds were once wolves. Bloodbats were once birds. But others never had any counterpart in the light world. Things born purely of the Demon King's malice."

  A twig snapped in the darkness beyond their camp. Both of them tensed, turning toward the sound. For a moment, Clive thought he glimpsed a pair of yellow eyes reflecting the firelight.

  "Don't look directly at them," Lucia whispered. "It’ll only attract their attention. Keep talking normally."

  Clive swallowed hard and forced himself to look back at the fire. "So, tomorrow we continue to Marblehaven?"

  "Yes," Lucia answered. "It'll take another day or two. Marblehaven sits on the border between the kingdom of San’Dioral and Vandiel, the respective strongholds of the God of Light and the Demon King.”

  “Which kingdom does Marblehaven belong to?”

  “We consider ourselves firmly San’Dioral, but as the town closest to Vandiel, the Demon King’s influence cannot be ignored. They are constantly launching attacks on our town.”

  Something moved just at the edge of Clive's vision. He did his best to ignore it.

  "And you think there’s someone at Marblehaven who can help me understand my magic better?" Clive asked. If he wanted to reach tier two spells, this was his best bet.

  "The Arcanum maintains a library there," Lucia replied, subtly shifting her position to keep the creature in her peripheral vision. "If anyone has records of color manipulation in magic, it would be them.”

  The shadow retreated, only to be replaced by another, larger form.

  "Clive," she said quietly, "I need you to add more wood to the fire. Make it bigger. Now."

  Clive carefully fed larger branches into the flames, causing them to leap higher.

  Lucia continued their conversation as if nothing were wrong. "The Arcanum scholars might be skeptical at first, but a demonstration of your abilities should convince them."

  "What if they want to keep me as a research subject?" Clive asked.

  "They wouldn't dare," Lucia said. "The Crafting Guild has a long history with the Arcanum. My shop alone supplies a quarter of their potion needs. As my guest, you're under Guild protection."

  As the night deepened, Clive noticed thin clouds gradually veiling the stars. A subtle change in the air signaled the approaching weather.

  "The wind's shifting," Lucia murmured, glancing up at the dwindling stars veiled by the clouds. "Weather's turning."

  A distant rumble of thunder confirmed her fears. The creatures circling their camp grew more agitated with increasingly erratic movements.

  The first droplets of rain hissed as they struck the heated stones around their campfire. Within minutes, a steady drizzle began to fall, quickly intensifying. Steam rose where water met flame, and Clive watched with growing dread as their protective fire began to sputter and dim.

  "No, no, no," Lucia whispered urgently, frantically digging through her satchel again. "This is very bad."

  The downpour intensified. Within moments, their blaze was reduced to smoking embers, plunging the camp into near-darkness.

  In the fading light, the creatures around them drew near. There were around twenty of them and for the first time, Clive was able to see them clearly.

  The creatures bore a passing resemblance to a wolf. Their bodies were elongated and distorted. Their fur was not fur at all, but something like liquid darkness that rippled across their form, occasionally revealing the skeletal structure beneath. Yellow eyes glowed and when they opened their mouth, Clive saw rows of metallic teeth that gleamed like tarnished silver.

  [Shadowhound x20]

  Power Level: 5

  The notification flickered in his vision. Individually weak, but twenty of them… They charged at him.

  I was just an adventurer once. Saving the cat, milking the cows— I never asked for anything more. But word of my deeds spread, and soon people were calling me a hero. They placed their hopes and dreams on my shoulders, expecting me to fight for all that was good and right.

  And so I fought and I fought and I fought some more... until there was no one left to fight. I won... and what awaited me at the end? The light. Glorious, eternal light.

  - Extract of “The Weight of Light”, autobiography of the God of Light