I found Jack near the shelters, practicing one of his skills with the glow on the spear tip.

  He looked up when he saw me approach; a strange expression crossed his face before he schooled it into something more neutral. The shield was still intact, the metal scarred and slightly darkened by the mage flames of the first day. The shield still had an unusual pressure around it that made the air feel thicker if you focused too hard.

  “Hey Elias,” he said before I could speak. “I tried the shield, and I have to say, I have no idea how you managed to use it before; the ringing made me nearly puke my breakfast.”

  “I know,” I replied with a smirk. “That’s why I’m here.”

  I crouched in front of him and took the shield carefully. The curse was still there, coiled tight, stubborn as a tick. It resisted immediately when I reached for it with Curse Rebinding, the familiar strain crawling up my spine as I tried to peel it away from its anchor.

  Jack winced. “You good?”

  “Give me a second.”

  This one fought me hard. The curse had roots in the metal, threads sunk deep from repeated use. It didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to let go.

  So I forced it.

  Mana burned hot as I pulled, shaping the spell carefully, patiently. Sweat broke across my brow as the curse stretched, resisted, then finally slid free with a sensation like tearing wet cloth.

  I slammed it into a nearby stick before it could snap back.

  Jack blinked, lifting the shield experimentally. “It’s gone,” he said, wonder creeping into his voice. He tapped it against the ground. No ringing. No pressure. “It’s actually gone.”

  “I wanted to try something, a hunch,” I said, breathing hard.

  “Just don’t put that thing in me, please.” Jack said with no little apprehension.

  “Ha! Don’t worry, this thing loves that shield.”

  Then I picked up the stick, and I snapped it in half.

  The curse spilt out immediately, a murky shimmer twisting through the air, frantic, searching. For a heartbeat, it hovered, then surged back into the shield, like it had been yanked on a leash.

  Jack cursed. “Well. That was short-lived.”

  But I wasn’t annoyed.

  I was fascinated.

  “Again,” I said.

  He hesitated. “Elias—”

  “Trust me.”

  I pulled the curse out a second time, jaw clenched as it resisted even harder now, frustrated at being displaced twice. This time I was ready. I shoved it into a different stick, thicker and drier.

  It settled.

  Barely.

  The stick vibrated faintly in my hand, but the curse stayed put.

  Jack stared. “So… what now?”

  I smiled thinly. “Now, I’m thinking about how to use this, but I need some help. Try that shield and tell me if you feel some kind of residue of the curse, ok?”

  “Ok…”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I left Jack testing his shield and went to find Marcus.

  He was still working on his project, whatever it was. The bone had been carved down and shaped into a long club. A good weapon; looking at the way Marcus was handling it, the bones seemed to weigh more than expected.

  “Marcus,” I said.

  He grunted without looking up.

  “I need a favour.”

  That got his attention. Slowly, he turned his head. “That depends.”

  “Can you carve wood into small objects?” I asked. “Idols. Talismans. Something little, easy to carry and with a fault line or similar to make breaking it easy?”

  He frowned. “I can. Why?”

  “I need vessels,” I explained. “For curses. Items I don’t want cursed forever. Things I might want to break to free the curse and throw it at our enemies.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, then looked back down at his work. “You want a curse grenade…”

  “Eh, more or less.”

  A low huff of something that might have been amusement escaped him. “That’s a bad idea.”

  “I know.”

  Silence stretched.

  “…I’ll see what I can do,” he said finally. “After I finish this.”

  “That’s fair,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  He grunted again, which I’d come to recognise as agreement and dismissal.

  With that done, I went to find Tom. I didn’t even have to try to find him.

  He was already gathering people near the centre of camp, posture straight, expression tired but determined. Alya stood nearby with Mary, listening. A few others trickled in; curiosity made them assemble.

  I stepped besides Tom.

  “Ready?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded.

  He cleared his throat and raised his voice.

  “Listen up,” Tom said. “We need to talk about how we move forward.”

  More people gathered closer. Some wary. Some are hopeful.

  “We can’t keep stumbling through this place blind,” he continued. “Yesterday proved that. Elias and the others went out and cleared a major threat. We’re safer now because of it.”

  Murmurs rippled through the group.

  “But we can’t rely on luck,” Tom said. “We need a structure.”

  He glanced at me, then back at them. “We’re forming an advance party. We are forming a small group to move ahead, clear paths, scout for danger, and reduce threats before the rest of us follow.

  A pause.

  “Who will have to go?” Asked a middle-aged woman whose name I didn’t bother to remember.

  “This is voluntary,” he replies. “No one is being forced. But understand this: staying behind doesn’t mean staying safe forever.”

  I stepped forward then, voice calm. “The advance team will face the most dangers. Our purpose is to move fast and to open the way. The more ground we clear, the fewer monsters you’ll face. The more time you’ll have to level.”

  I let that sink in.

  “Why do we need to do this? Isn’t it better to proceed all together? Strength in numbers and all that?” ‘Shouted a man, a crafter if I’m not mistaken.

  “If we’re going to reach the beacon in time,” I continued, “we need to move much faster, and if everyone proceeds at the same speed, we will never reach it in time. This is the third day, and we actually camped in a place further away from the beacon than we were the first day. Don’t get me wrong, I think we need these first days to get our feet under us, but we need to have a group willing to face the challenges of this place head-on; for the safety of everybody else, we need people who are willing to push into the unknown and face the monsters of this tutorial to allow the others to follow. We need to become way stronger than we are now. Or we will all perish.”

  Tom nodded. “Which brings me to the second part,” he continued. “From today onward, levelling parties will be mandatory. Rotations. Controlled engagements. Everyone goes out. Everyone improves.”

  Unease stirred. But no outright rebellion.

  “We survived yesterday,” Tom said bluntly. “Even without Elias’ team here. That tells me we can do this. Together.”

  He gestured. “Now. Without further ado, who volunteers for the advance party?”

  I didn’t expect many.

  Alya stepped forward immediately, axe in hand and jaw set.

  Quinn followed, grinning like he’d been waiting for the cue.

  Marcus moved forward without ceremony.

  Jack surprised me by shaking his head. “I’ll stay,” he said. “Someone needs to keep them safe here.”

  Mary hesitated, then nodded to herself and stepped up. Good, I was happy to see our healer didn’t change her mind either.

  Then Rhea stepped forward.

  I blinked. “Rhea?”

  She shrugged, nervous but resolute. “I want to push myself, if you’ll have me.”

  "Of course, you'll catch up with us by the end of the day." I told her with a smile.

  Melissa followed her, quiet but just as firm.

  That surprised me even more. But before I could comment, another figure joined them.

  Marco. I knew his name because he was the same man who’d argued with Alya yesterday, the same man who’d run the first day.

  He puffed his chest slightly. “I can handle myself,” he said, voice a bit too loud.

  Alya shot him a look sharp enough to cut stone.

  I said nothing. Just nodded politely. “Welcome aboard then.” I was sure this guy would be trouble; we’ll see…

  Tom surveyed the group, then the rest of the camp. When nobody else moved forward, he addressed everyone again. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “Advance party clears ahead. The rest follow while levelling in rotation. No exceptions. We need to adapt, or we die.”

  No one argued. At least not in the open. However, a significant number of these individuals expressed dissatisfaction with the new arrangement. Not my problem.

  As the meeting broke up, I felt it again. That quiet hum in my chest.

  The curse was… content, and the gathering went better than expected.

  Now though, I was curious to see how long it would last.

  20 chapters ahead!