They quickly find a cave to settle in for the night. After ensuring the area is free from predators and checking for any suspicious footprints, they begin setting up camp.

  With the experience gained from their first night, they move efficiently, completing their tasks swiftly. But now, they need to activate the smell masking stone when spending a night in the depths of the forest.

  Before the sun sets, their tents are already pitched inside the cave.

  Finn skins and cooks the livestock they hunted on the way, while the rest of the crew gathers around the campfire, eagerly digging into the meal.

  Caroline chatters excitedly, her enthusiasm radiating as any young teen would after succeeding in their first mission. “Did you see the water bubble I cast? I saw the serpent breaking free from the twigs, so I instinctively trapped it with a water bubble!”

  Finn grins. “Nice catch, Caroline! But why a bubble?”

  Caroline pauses, frowning slightly. “I don’t know... I was just trying to stop it from attacking Frank.”

  “It was a solid move. I was sweating when the snake broke free. I couldn’t divert its attack away from Frank,” Steve admits.

  “Caroline, you put your training to good use.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Frank acknowledges her effort.

  Caroline’s face lights up, cheeks flushed with pride. She glances at her father, who gives her an encouraging nod.

  “Th-thank you! We only managed because everyone did their part,” she stammers, trying to return the kindness.

  “Caroline, I think you just stole the words right out of my mouth.” Finn chuckles, breaking her awkwardness. The group laughs warmly.

  Feeling self-conscious, Caroline quickly excuses herself and retreats into her tent. The more she speaks, the more she fears making the moment even more awkward for herself.

  Rathen, still seated by the fire with his comrades, sighs. “Thank you, everyone. I see how thoughtful you’ve been towards Caroline. I truly appreciate it.”

  Steve scratches the back of his head. “No need to thank us. As a father myself, I understand how it feels.”

  Rathen stares into the fire, his expression distant. “Caroline lost her mother when she was twelve. I’ve always worried that I wouldn’t be able to raise her well.”

  “Her mother was a renowned Wizard in Mistwood. If she hadn’t lost her life during a hunting expedition, she would’ve been the perfect role model for Caroline.”

  “She still is,” Finn says gently. “That’s why Caroline wants to follow in her footsteps.”

  Rathen smiles bitterly. “That’s why I couldn’t stop her from choosing the same path. She has her mother’s blood running through her veins.”

  A heavy silence settles over the group until Frank breaks it. “I lost an arm on my last hunt. That demoted me from Swordmaster to Gladiator.”

  “The Hunters' Guild hired me to train new hunters, but soon... I want to go back to hunting.”

  “Why?” Steve's curiosity is piqued, and he asks.

  “Anna just gave birth to our first child. I need to earn more to support them. And... I miss the thrill.”

  “Anna won’t be happy about that,” Steve remarks, thinking of his family.

  Frank nods. “I know. But the combat calls to me.”

  His voice is detached, as if recounting someone else’s story. Another silence follows.

  Finn shrugs. “Since we’re sharing, I might as well say it. My goal is to earn enough to buy more magic vaults. What about you, Steve?”

  “M-me?” Steve shifts uncomfortably. “I just want to provide for my family, and, well...” He hesitates. “Don’t laugh, and... I dream of becoming The Great Swordmaster.” His face blushes.

  Finn grins. “Since you mentioned it, I also want to become The Great Magician!” He declares his dream boldly, unfazed.

  The mood lightens. The conversation drifts to lighter topics until they finish eating, tidy the area, and prepare for bed. Finn casts a cleansing spell, one he picked up from Caroline, over the group before they retreat to their tents.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Tonight, Frank takes the first watch. When his shift ends, he wakes Finn but lingers instead of returning to his tent right away.

  Finn glances at him knowingly. “You’ve got something to ask me, don’t you?”

  Frank doesn’t hesitate. “You’re not just a disciple magician.”

  Finn smirks. “What makes you say that? My spells are exactly what a disciple would cast.”

  "That doesn’t mean a higher-ranking magician wouldn’t cast them. It’s not about ability but intent," Frank watches Finn closely. "You could have pierced the serpent with sharpened twigs, yet instead, you kept summoning more to bind it. As if... something is restricting your magic veins from channelling stronger spells."

  Magic casting requires a magician to draw mana from a magic vault and direct it through their veins. Without mastering these pathways, spells fail, or worse, backfire and harm the caster. Magicians rely on theoretical knowledge and creativity to manipulate magic flow, whereas swordsmen apply structured mana-infused combat techniques in battle.

  A typical disciple can summon twigs once per cast, yet Finn conjured more after the initial spell. Casting multiple different spells sequentially, like Caroline’s water arrows followed by a bubble, is far simpler than forcing magic through different paths repeatedly for the same spell.

  Summoning buried twigs is relatively simple: it’s just pulling existing objects to the surface. Although sharpening them into deadly spikes is far more advanced and efficient, instead of using this straightforward, though demanding, spell, Finn opts to summon more twigs at a speed far exceeding a disciple’s level.

  For most magicians, sustaining the same spell over and over through the same route is inefficient because their veins can only handle a limited flow per route before fatigue sets in. Finn’s ability to continuously redirect his magic flow to bypass this limit was impressive, but the fact that he had to do so revealed a deeper issue. He wasn’t simply choosing a roundabout strategy; his veins couldn't withstand the power required for a more potent, single-cast spell.

  Finn could weave multiple low-level spells together but struggled with higher-tier ones, which is a clear sign of obstructed veins. It wasn’t just a tactical decision; it was a necessity disguised as strategy.

  Frank continues. “I was trained by a retired knight from the capital.”

  Unlike rural areas like Mistwood, knights from the capital receive structured education in both magic and swordsmanship.

  Rathen didn’t notice because his expertise is in healing. Caroline doesn’t know because she was homeschooled. That’s also why she learned conjuring magic early, which means she wasn’t taught the usual limitations placed on disciples. Frank is not well-versed in the magic realm, but he has a hunch that disciples shouldn’t be able to perform as well as Finn.

  Finn chuckles. “Your guess is right. I wasn’t a disciple. But now, I am.”

  He meets Frank’s gaze. “I can’t say how or why, but one thing is certain—we share a goal: to hunt and earn.”

  Frank studies him before nodding. “You are good at talking.”

  Finn grins. “And cooking, too! I wish you a good night's sleep, buddy.”

  Frank waves at him and heads to his tent.

  Now Finn is alone. Staring into the mist, Finn listens to the eerie silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of the night. Moonlight filters through the canopy, casting ghostly shadows, while unseen dangers lurk in the darkness.

  “I have to be more mindful of using magic next time.”

  Finn pulls a locator from his pocket. The needles quiver erratically.

  “The forest field is interfering again.” He sighs, recalling how, ironically, the device pointed to the Forest when he charged it in town.

  He stares at it, his voice barely a whisper. “Risa... when will I see you?”

  —

  Over the next few days, the group manages to hunt several more predators. They choose their targets carefully, opting for solitary predators and avoiding herds to minimise risk.

  They remain cautious with each encounter—even when mishaps occur, they quickly reform their formation to cover one another, proving that their training is paying off.

  While treading through the misty woods, they keep their footsteps light. When predators surround them, Finn and Caroline take turns casting spells of sound, scent, and vision camouflage to avoid confrontation.

  After settling down for the night in a sheltered spot, they meticulously check their weapons, magic vaults, and magic stones to ensure everything is in working order.

  Their kill count climbs steadily as the expedition goes more smoothly than expected.

  One night, they settle in a cave, fire crackling as they eat.

  “We’ve hunted five predators in just a week!” Caroline beams.

  “Not bad at all,” Steve grins back, equally enthusiastic.

  Although it isn’t uncommon for more experienced teams to take down five predators, or even more if they’re willing to take greater risks, given that the majority of the group are still inexperienced hunters, it’s best to play it safe at the outset.

  Still, the team’s morale remains high.

  “We make quite a team here!” Finn declares as he heats some canned food over the fire.

  With spirits lifted, they settle in for the night. The fog is thickening and clouding their vision as sunset approaches. They take cover between two large trees, carefully avoiding any predator trails.

  “I think winter’s coming. The weather’s getting colder,” remarks Rathen, draping a cloak over Caroline.

  “We started the hunt rather late. How many more days should we stay in the forest?” Steve asks.

  “We should wrap up the hunt in a month. What do you think, Frank?” Finn inquires.

  “Yes, that sounds about right,” Frank replies.

  “Let’s check the map again and plot our route,” Finn suggests, retrieving the map from his pack.

  Three weeks pass, and the expedition proves fruitful. Although they encounter a few minor hiccups along the way, Rathen will get their wounds treated. They’re learning fast. Their bond’s tightening too.

  Still, the comforts of town linger in their minds.

  “Oh, I miss proper baths and beds,” Caroline groans.

  “Same,” Steve sighs.

  “Yeah, me too,” Finn adds with a tired smile.