The morning mist clung low to the ground as Balt and I broke camp, the scent of damp earth lingering in the air.

  My boots made a crunching sound as I walked on an old gravel road. We had found it this morning, and it headed in the general direction Lawson had pointed yesterday.

  I had been activating Limit Break while I walked, and my body was sweating like crazy due to the talent. The miles were flying by with no monster attacks, and me and Balt were walking in companionable silence.

  Balt was blinking back and forth and was leaning on his staff when we both stopped on the road at the same time.

  A creaking sound had drawn our attention, a huge wagon some ways down the road, followed by several similar wagons, rolled slowly forward. The lead wagon was pulled by a pair of shaggy oxen, their hides mottled with faint scars.

  I moved off the road with Balt behind me and quietly whispered when we got settled. “We need information, and they probably know the area. Let’s see what we can find out, what do you say?”

  Balt just shrugged and spoke. Works for me. I’d kill for a proper bed, and they look like merchants, if they are, they’ll know a good inn.”

  We moved back on the road and continued our walk until we met up with the wagons.

  The man holding the reins was broad-shouldered, a sneer fixed on his face. A hand clapped down on that solid shoulder, and from behind him stepped a man in fine robes. That man was wiry, with a crooked hat and a grin far too wide for comfort, tipping his hat to us as he brought his wagon to a full halt.

  “Morning, lads,” he said, voice oily. Looking over my armor and Balts staff. My names Jordan and I am a merchant prince from the town of Verge.

  Balt stepped forward then. "Well met Jordan. My name is Balt, and this is my party member Riven. We were hoping you could direct us to the town and recommend a good inn.

  The man's oily smile widened. “Towns just behind me and a good inn if you got the credits is the Hollow in my humble opinion.”

  Balt raised a brow. “Friendly place for passers-through?”

  “Friendly enough, I suppose, if you've got the credits, not so much if you don’t, like most places in this world. If that is all, we must be on our way. Places to be and all that.” The merchant moved the reins, and the horse started down the road again.

  Balt and I moved off the road as the wagons passed by. Balt's brow furrowed as the wagons were driving by.

  "Something wrong?" Balt shook his head. "You know I don't know. That merchant didn’t so much as gesture toward his goods, didn’t offer a trinket, a potion, or even a half-rotted apple. Just a quick chat and a wave. I’ve never met a merchant who didn’t try to hawk his wares. Especially not out here running into travelers on the road. Even bandits pretend to sell something before they try to rob you.”

  I nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as another wagon creaked by. Focusing on the wagon. The canvas was patched and stained, sagging in places but one flap had curled just enough to reveal a glimpse inside.

  Just a flash but enough. Two women were bound and gagged. Children chained as well. Others sat in the back holding knives to the children’s throats. Must be trying to keep them all quiet from us.

  My breath hitched. I didn’t speak, just reached out and gripped Balt’s arm. In that moment all I could think of was Alice and Liz and how they could be chained right now just like these people, waiting for me to free them.

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  Balt turned, saw the look on my face. His expression darkened instantly. “What’s wrong?”

  I didn’t answer. The wagons were already pulling ahead, the merchant’s crooked hat bobbing with each jolt of the wheels. The oxen trudged on, oblivious.

  “Just keep walking for now."

  Balt exhaled slowly. “What’s going on?”

  “They had women and children tied up in those wagons.”

  “Slavers?” Balt whispered, voice low and sharp. “We can’t just let that go."

  "I don’t plan to,” I said, my throat barely working as I swallowed back fury.

  Balt exhaled slowly. “We could follow. See where they’re headed. But if they’re tied to Verge, we’ll be making an enemy before we ever step foot in that town.”

  My hand clenched into fists. “If this trash is tied to that town. I’ll burn that motherfucker down too. You hear me, Lawson?!”

  Lawson appeared out of thin air then. His face was calm, and he held his arms behind his back comfortably. “It is your tutorial, Outlier; you may lose rewards if you don’t keep to the floor theme of negotiation though.”

  I turned, eyes blazing. “I could care less about the damn rewards if it means a child’s life. You think I’m here to play diplomat while people get chained up and sold?”

  Lawson didn’t flinch. “Then make your choice, Outlier. But know this, every action has a cost.”

  I didn’t respond. I was already moving. Balt fell in beside him, jaw set.

  I pointed. "We doubled back through the woods. Cut across the ridge and intercept them before the bend near the old stone marker we passed a ways back. It’s narrow there, they’ll have to slow down.”

  Balt nodded. “We can throw some old logs in the way so that they have to stop to get out and move them. If we time it right, we can stop the lead oxen and block the road.”

  “Okay,” I said, already scanning the tree line. “We have to figure out once we get the wagons to stop, how get the hostages out of there without getting their throats slit. Let’s think on it as we run.”

  I slipped into the woods, boots muffled by moss and fallen leaves. The canopy swallowed Balt and I whole, shadows dancing across our gear as we moved with purpose. My mind raced, not with doubt, but with calculation. The merchant’s grin. The children's eyes. The silence around the wagons.

  One thought kept running through my mind as I ran: how do I get them out alive?

  We reached the ridge where I had planned our ambush in good time; I crouched low behind a fallen log that was my cover. The road was below and visible through the trees.

  My eyes were focused watching the curve where the wagons would pass. Balt and I had made it here earlier and felled some trees and tossed them in the road, blocking the path.

  The first part of the plan was a success. Now to figure out the hard part of the plan.

  I summoned my blade, Ashbourne humming faintly in my grip.

  Balt wiped sweat from his brow. “That should be enough to stop that wagon.”

  I nodded.

  The first wagon creaked into view, oxen snorting as they slowed at the blockade. For a heartbeat, the plan worked.

  Call them other guards out of the back to help move the logs ... Call them, dammit!

  Then the merchant stepped down.

  Robes rustled. The merchant flicked his wrist.

  A low groan echoed through the trees as the logs shuddered, moss clinging to bark like peeling skin. Splinters cracked and snapped midair, drifting like dust motes in the morning light.

  The blockade lifted, slowly, unnaturally, inches above the gravel.

  My heart jumped into my throat. What the hell? I felt the pressure shift, like the forest itself had inhaled. The oxen snorted, ears twitching, and the mana scars along their flanks pulsed faintly.

  Then, with a sound like bones grinding, the logs drifted aside and thudded into the ditch, clearing the road as if nothing had ever stood in their way. It had all happened in a few short breaths.

  Freaking magic.

  “The bastards got a wand,” Balt spat.

  “We’re not stopping them here. We trail them. From a distance and wait.”

  Balt grunted. “Until when?”

  “Until they stop for the night. That’s when we make our move."

  Ashbourne dimmed in my grip, the blade’s hum fading to a whisper as I dismissed it. My jaw was tight, and I kept my eyes scanning ahead as we ran.

  Focus. Rage won’t save them. Precision will. Plan and execute; wait for the right opportunity.

  I breathed out, trying to calm myself. “They’ll have to stop and camp eventually,” I continued. “And when they do, we will be ready.” Balt nodded, falling into step.

  The plan had changed, but the mission hadn’t. I heard a whip crack and the wagons creak as they started up again. I heard a child’s muffled cries ring out as the whip snapped again.

  This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.