The troll's charge shook the ground beneath our feet like an earthquake.

  "Scatter!" Andy roared, his voice cutting through the thunderous footfalls as the massive creature barreled toward us, its claws scraping sparks from the stone floor.

  I dove left, rolling behind a moss-covered boulder as the troll's massive fist crashed into the spot where I'd been standing. The impact sent chunks of stone flying, one grazing my cheek hard enough to draw blood.

  [HP: 79/82]

  Andy and Lord Eric moved like dancers around the beast, their swords flashing in the green light. Patrick flanked wide, his warhammer trailing frost as he activated his Ice Strike ability. Nick darted in and out, his electrified blade leaving smoking wounds across the troll's thick hide.

  "Eyes, Will! Target the eyes!" Andy shouted as he ducked under a sweeping claw.

  I steadied my crossbow, drawing a bead on the troll's left eye. The bolt flew true, striking just below the socket. The creature roared in pain, stumbling backward as black ichor poured down its face.

  "Excellent shot!" Lord Eric called out, his sword carving a deep gash across the troll's thigh. The older knight moved with incredible grace, his bladework work precise and efficient. Every strike found its mark, every dodge perfectly timed.

  The battle settled into a rhythm. Andy and Lord Eric pressed the attack from the front while Patrick hammered at its legs, trying to bring it down. Nick's electricity coursed through the creature's body with each strike, making it convulse and stumble. I provided covering fire, my bolts finding gaps in its thick hide.

  "It's working!" Heather called from her position near the chamber entrance. "Keep it up!"

  The troll swung wildly at Lord Eric, who stepped inside its reach and brought his sword up in a devastating arc. The blade bit deep into the creature's wrist, and with a wet tearing sound, the troll's left arm separated at the joint.

  The severed limb hit the ground with a meaty thud, green blood pooling around it. The troll staggered, clutching its stump and howling in painful rage.

  "Wargs!" Jesse's voice rang out in sudden alarm from the tunnel entrance. "Night Wargs coming in fast!"

  My head snapped toward the sound just as four massive shadows burst into the chamber, their hairless bodies gleaming in the eerie green light. They moved with unnatural speed, their milky eyes fixed forward with deadly purpose.

  "I've got them!" Andy shouted, pivoting away from the wounded troll and sprinting toward the entrance. He raised his sword high, the blade catching the moss-light as he positioned himself to intercept.

  The lead warg veered slightly, and Andy's sword caught its flank as it passed. The beast yelped but didn't slow—none of them did. They ran straight past him, ignoring his presence entirely.

  "What the—" Andy's confusion lasted only a second before he realized their target.

  All four wargs charged directly at Lord Eric, who was still engaged with the troll. The beasts moved with singular focus I'd never seen before—not hunting, not stalking, but driven by something that looked like desperate hunger.

  "Eric, behind you!" I shouted, already raising my crossbow.

  Lord Eric spun just as the first warg leapt at him. His sword found its mark, impaling the creature through its chest. But the other three slammed into him with their full weight, knocking him off balance. They didn't retreat after striking like they had in the tunnels—they clung to him, jaws snapping and tearing at his golden armor.

  I fired a bolt that struck one warg's shoulder, but it didn't even flinch. The beast continued to tear at Lord Eric's leg armor, its teeth finding purchase at a joint.

  "Get off him!" I screamed, firing again and again. My bolts found their marks but the wargs seemed beyond pain, beyond fear.

  "I can't see him!" Heather cried from her position. "There's no clear line for healing!"

  The troll, sensing the distraction, swung its remaining arm at Patrick. The massive fist connected with a sickening crunch, sending Patrick flying into a wall.

  [Patrick's HP: 96/155]

  Andy hesitated, caught between rushing to help Lord Eric or aiding Patrick. The troll's roar made his decision—he ran to Patrick's side, steadying the dazed warrior before he could be crushed by a follow-up attack.

  "Will! Help Eric!" Andy commanded, his sword raised to parry the troll's next blow.

  I emptied my crossbow at the wargs, each bolt finding flesh but having no effect. The beasts were frenzied, tearing at Lord Eric with unnatural desperation. One had its teeth firmly clamped around his arm, another at his thigh, while the third went for his throat.

  If someone as great as Lord Eric were to die, I’d wish it was just like in the movies. A savage comeback on his part, killing each warg before one got a lucky blow off him. And then he appears dignified without fear as he dies.

  Unfortunately this was real life and the death of a man by three giant canines was a horrible sight no movie theater could get away with showing.

  Blood sprayed across the green moss as the warg's teeth found the gap between Eric's helmet and breastplate. The knight's cry of pain cut short as his throat was ripped out by massive fangs.

  [Party notification- Eric Lasair Died]

  At first my mind refused to acknowledge what I was seeing. Not just the small window in the corner of my eye stating the obvious. It refused to acknowledge the spray of blood in the air. It refused to acknowledge how his limbs only moved because of pulling bites and not on their own. How the blood gushing onto the floor was practically bathing the body in red.

  And Lord Eric seemed less like a person and more like some very large chew toy three dogs were playing tug-a-war with.

  I was out of bolts, but still pulling the trigger of my crossbow. Should I be doing that?

  Click. Click. Click.

  The empty sound of my crossbow's trigger was drowned out by the wet, tearing noises as the wargs continued their feast. Lord Eric's body twitched with each savage pull of their jaws, but he was gone. The golden armor that had gleamed so proudly now lay shattered and crimson-slick.

  A sharp sting across my face snapped me back to reality. Jesse stood before me, her palm still raised from the slap she'd delivered.

  "Snap out of it!" she hissed, her face inches from mine. "The troll's still alive! Help the others before they end up like him!"

  She shoved past me, daggers flashing in the eerie green light as she leapt onto the back of the nearest warg. The beast was so engrossed in feasting on Eric's flesh that it didn't notice until Jesse's blade plunged into the base of its skull. She moved with brutal efficiency, slitting the throat of the second warg before it could turn, then driving both daggers into the third's spine.

  The chamber echoed with dying yelps and the troll's continuing roars.

  I fumbled for my short sword, the weight of it unfamiliar after relying on my crossbow. The metal felt cold against my palm as I drew it from its sheath.

  "Flank it!" Nick shouted, electricity crackling along his blade as he darted behind the troll. "Hit the tendons behind the knee!"

  My body moved on its own, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought failed. I circled wide, opposite from Nick, watching as Andy and Patrick engaged from the front. The troll was weakened but still dangerous, its remaining arm sweeping in deadly arcs.

  Nick and I struck simultaneously, our blades slicing through the thick hide behind each knee. The troll buckled, crashing to its knees with a howl of pain. Andy didn't hesitate—he leapt forward, driving his sword through the creature's throat and up into its brain.

  The troll's massive body convulsed once, twice, then went still, collapsing face-first onto the stone floor.

  Silence fell over the chamber, broken only by our ragged breathing.

  [Level Up! You are now Level 23]

  The notification popped into my vision, but the usual rush of satisfaction was absent. I stared at the message, feeling nothing but hollow emptiness where triumph should have been.

  The notification felt obscene floating before my eyes while Lord Eric's body lay torn apart mere feet away. No one cheered. No one even acknowledged the level up. Patrick leaned heavily on his warhammer, his face ashen. Nick stared at his blood-covered hands as if seeing them for the first time. Jesse cleaned her daggers methodically, her expression unreadable.

  Heather stood over Lord Eric's remains, tears streaming down her face as she pressed a handkerchief to her mouth. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

  Andy approached me, his armor splattered with troll blood. His face was a mask of composed grief, but his eyes held something else—something calculating.

  "Will," he said, his voice steady. "The acid. Use it on the troll before it regenerates."

  I nodded numbly, retrieving the jar from my Inventory Box. Being asked to do something was good at this point. Doing tasks meant not thinking about other things.

  I carefully poured the clear liquid from the jar over the troll’s corpse. I aimed for the head first, seeing skull and brain melt and sizzle. Then I worked my way with the rest of the body.

  Where green and black holes were slowly shrinking, my acid stopped the regen progress. Clear liquid gave off a white vapor as it angrily ate away at troll flesh.

  It wasn’t enough acid to melt the whole body, but it did a good enough job. Wounds stopped healing and nothing moved, the troll stayed dead.

  Now the job was done though and I was back to doing something I really didn’t want to do—think about what happened.

  I couldn’t stop myself going over every detail, trying to figure out where the mistakes happened. Should I have dropped my crossbow and pulled my short sword out right away? Shooting with the crossbow was faster though and the wargs always made a run for it when hit by a bolt.

  But this time they didn’t run when hit by a bolt or a bunch of bolts. This time they went even more rabid and were determined to make Lord Eric their lunch. Even Andy’s swipe of the sword didn’t deter one of them.

  They had totally changed their behavior. They had… gone mad.

  A memory tickled my brain then. One tidbit of information the village elder gave me when I was collecting info on Midnight Dungeon. I quickly pulled up the System window for leveling up. My eyes scanned the list of available skills for purchase with my three skill points.

  I had promised the others I’d get a range attack ability so I’d be more supportive in a fight. I even had one I already planned to pick—Triple Mana Shot.

  A skill where my hand crossbow would shoot three arrows made out of mana, one after another in quick succession. The arrows themselves being recognized as magical attacks.

  It was the next logical step for the build I was going for. It would make me a more efficient scout for the Heroes Party. Instead my hand hovered over a different skill.

  This skill would in no way help me in fighting monsters. It could be seen as helping me scout out danger, but I never had issues there.

  It was potentially an absolute waste of three skill points which could be costly in the future.

  I found myself glancing over at Jesse who was looking over her own level up System screen. She took out those three wargs as if they were nothing… but supposedly was slow enough not to be able to do so until after Lord Eric was dead.

  Even though she was the very first one who knew about them.

  I spent my three skill points on the skill.

  [Heighten Senses—Will heighten the three senses hearing, seeing, and smell. Will consume 10 MP every five minutes Heighten Senses is active.]

  I instantly activated it and found myself regretting doing so only a second later.

  My senses exploded like a bomb going off inside my skull.

  The world transformed into an assault of sensory information so intense I nearly collapsed. Every drip of water from the stalactites above became a thunderous drum, each one distinct and separate—thirty-seven of them, I could count each source precisely. The acid's chemical reaction with the troll's flesh roared in my ears like waves crashing against rocks, individual cells dissolving in microscopic explosions.

  I could see the individual particles of dust floating in the air, illuminated by the Ghostmold's glow. The tiny imperfections in the cave wall that formed patterns like constellations. The nearly invisible spider webs stretching between crevices, each strand vibrating with the subtle air currents our breathing created.

  "Make it stop," I whispered, clutching my head. The sound of my own voice was deafening, the feeling of my fingers against my scalp overwhelming.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out at least one source of input. Focusing on my breathing, I attempted to gain control over the skill. Gradually, the cacophony receded to manageable levels as I directed my enhanced senses toward one specific task.

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

  Smell. I needed to confirm my suspicion.

  The chamber's scents unfolded like a complex map. The acrid chemical burn of the acid. The musky, rotten-egg stench of the troll's blood. The copper-salt tang of human blood pooling beneath Lord Eric's mangled body. The sweat and fear from my companions, each with their own distinct signature.

  My own hands carried the lingering scent of the beef jerky I'd eaten that morning, the smoke and salt still clinging to my fingertips.

  I tried to ignore my own smells though, reaching out in one specific direction. An application of beeswax and oil was used on Lord Eric’s armor yesterday. He had pancakes for breakfast this morning, even with his mouth doused in blood I could still make out a faint whiff of the food.

  I didn’t dare move closer to him, I couldn’t risk anyone knowing what I was doing. It was agonizing though trying to focus on his remains. Like trying to keep my eyes on a dot on a rainbow canvas. All those pretty colors, but we needed to only focus on the one dot.

  Finally I was able to focus on what scents the cloak gave off. There it was. Faint but unmistakable—mint.

  The puzzle pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. The village elder's warning echoed in my mind: "Night Wargs go mad at the scent of mint. We've outlawed allowing it here since a massacre caused by a peddler bringing the stuff to our village."

  I'd told Heather and Jesse this specifically when we were still at the village. I'd warned them not to wear any perfumes containing mint.

  "Will."

  Andy's voice cut through my thoughts. I opened my eyes to see him standing over me, his expression a perfect mask of concerned leadership. But his eyes were cold, calculating.

  "Are you done acting so addled?" he asked, his voice low enough that the others couldn't hear. "We need to move. The acid's doing its job, and we need to get Lord Eric's... remains back to his family."

  I’ve never before been so happy for the benefits a high Intelligence stat gave.

  One thought flowed after another at speeds faster than what was probably considered humanly possible. A flow of recognizing facts and drawing conclusions and then making a decision on those conclusions.

  Heather and Jesse used the intel I gave them about mint and Night Wargs to kill Lord Eric. The mint couldn’t have been placed on him right away, otherwise the Night Wargs would have gone feral with the first battle.

  Which meant Heather must have placed the scent on him when she decided to cast Faith Armor on everyone. And Jesse made sure I wouldn’t notice the scent by insisting I help her ‘fix’ her bow at the back of the party.

  Andy had to be in on it because Heather wouldn’t dare do something this ballsy without his permission. Hell it might have even been his idea. He was the one who claimed he would intercept the wargs when they came in, only pulling off a light hit on one.

  Then he went to support Patrick and ordered me to try to save Lord Eric. It was a terrible call now that I think about it. Patrick was definitely hit hard, but he would have survived a followup attack and I could do a distraction by taking more shots at the troll’s face.

  With one, maybe two, sweeps of his sword, Andy would have killed all three wargs in time.

  Under normal circumstances I would assume it was just bad luck and no one could know the outcome. But this outcome was pre-planned.

  And here was the worst part.

  They set it up so I take the fall if there’s a hint of foul play.

  I’m the scout, I’m the one who is supposed to know how the Night Wargs behave and warn of any potential dangers. I didn’t mention the mint quirk at the dungeon entrance. It didn’t even cross my mind to say it again after warning Heather and Jesse.

  So if Lord Eric’s death is linked to the Night Wargs going crazy due to the scent of mint being on him, three of my party members were going to instantly accuse me of negligence to hide the murder. Heather and Jesse were never going to admit I already told them about the mint danger at the village.

  The two of them and Andy would make certain I was to blame. They might even try claiming I intentionally wanted to murder the man.

  All of this ran through my mind in the last two minutes as Andy glared at me impatiently. Bit by bit, his fake concern was giving way to his real feelings.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time coping… he was a really nice guy. Would you mind if I stay away from the remains? I know it makes me a wuss, but I just don’t think I can handle being close to his body,” I said, not totally lying. I didn’t want to get a close up look of the outcome from my party’s betrayal.

  There was a brief hint of relief from Andy’s body language. A tension in the shoulders and spine which went slack.

  If I didn’t still have Heighten Senses on, I’d probably miss it. He was glad I wasn’t going near the body which meant he didn’t want me to find any clues of what really happened. It was official—he was in on it.

  “No it’s fine. Jesse has a large blanket we can use to wrap Lord Eric in. While we work on that, why don’t you check out the chamber? See if you can find any treasure hidden away here? Normally we find something valuable after a boss fight.”

  "Treasure hunting sounds good," I managed, turning away before Andy could see the tremor in my hands. "I'll check the perimeter."

  I stumbled away from the group, grateful for the distance. Behind me, I could hear the murmur of voices as they gathered around Lord Eric's remains. Jesse had already pulled a large canvas from her Inventory Box, and Heather's sobs had miraculously subsided now that Andy was at her side.

  The chamber stretched wide around me, its moss-covered walls pulsing with that eerie green glow. My Heightened Senses remained active, and I forced myself to use them methodically now, scanning the room section by section.

  The floor near the walls was littered with bones—previous meals of the troll, most likely. Small trinkets and rusted weapons lay scattered among them, worthless after years of exposure to the damp cave air. I picked through them mechanically, my mind racing with plans and contingencies.

  A faint glimmer caught my eye from a dark recess in the far wall. Something about the light's reflection was different from the usual gleam of metal or glass. I approached cautiously, my enhanced vision penetrating the shadows.

  There, wedged deep in a narrow crevice, something sparkled with internal fire. I reached in, my fingers closing around a smooth, cold object. When I pulled it free, my breath caught.

  A diamond. Not just any diamond—a stone the size of a baseball, its facets catching the green light and transforming it into a kaleidoscope of colors. Even in this dim illumination, I could see its perfect clarity, the absence of flaws that would mark lesser gems.

  [Midnight Diamond—This is a rare item. Valued at 300 gold. May be used as material with Crafting skills.]

  The scan confirmed what I already knew—this was no ordinary treasure. A stone this size would be worth a fortune, enough to buy a small estate or outfit an entire adventuring party with the finest equipment. It was the kind of find that would normally have Andy crowing with triumph, already planning how to "fairly distribute" its value.

  But no one knew I found it. Sometimes when a dungeon boss was killed, a notification was sent to the party about rewards. Sometimes though, you had to search for the rewards after the boss was killed… and no one received a System notification about those rewards being found.

  I glanced back at the others. They were fully occupied with wrapping Lord Eric's body, their backs to me. Patrick held the dark blue blanket while Jesse and Nick carefully arranged the remains. Andy stood with his arm around Heather, their heads bent close together in what appeared to be solemn conversation but was likely something far more calculating.

  My decision took less than a heartbeat.

  I pressed my palm against the diamond, feeling its weight and solidity. With a simple mental command, it vanished into my Inventory Box, safely stored away where none of them would ever find it.

  No shouts of outrage, no screams of me being a thief, the diamond simply disappeared from this world into my personal dimensional storage.

  "Find anything?" Andy called from across the chamber a minute later.

  "Just more moss," I replied, forcing disappointment into my voice. "Some junk left by previous people the troll ate, but nothing of value."

  I casually walked over, trying my best not to stare at the body which was now wrapped tightly inside a dark blue blanket. Thankfully the dark color made it hard to notice the blood stains.

  “There’s always been some sort of reward after beating a dungeon boss. Sometimes we had to do some searching for it, but this is the first time we got no reward for killing one,” Patrick said with a frown, scratching his head.

  “These aren’t normal circumstances, we lost a party member and the System knows it. It could be the reason we always received a reward is because no one in the party ever died,” I said, the excuse just now coming to my mind. Nick nodded, glancing over at the body.

  “He's right, what happened with Lord Eric… never happened before. If our search for a reward is coming up empty, it’s best to just assume it’s because we didn’t all make it.”

  “At least we have the gemstones,” Heather said with a smile as she pulled out a sapphire rock, smiling at the glittering object in her hand.

  I think that’s the moment when I realized I truly hated Heather. I mean I think I always hated her deep down, but I think it’s in the moment when I saw she helped murder someone and cared more about a rock—I realized I wish she would just die.

  Unfortunately though my thoughts couldn’t become reality. Even showing my thoughts on my face would get me killed. So I just kept my hands behind my back and squeezed them hard.

  For all the clues I was able to deduce the murder from, there’s still one thing I didn’t know.

  Why did they do it?

  We camped near the dungeon that night and then carried Lord Eric back to Lasair Manor. We arrived at the entrance to the manor, knights and guards quickly helping us carry his body.

  I will say without shame I got the hell out of there as soon as it was allowed by etiquette. Actually there was a good chance I left too early and broke etiquette. I just couldn’t handle it.

  Elane was inconsolable and crying on Heather’s shoulder while Jesse patted her back. Two people who helped murder the noble acted as caring friends. Andy, Nick, and Patrick were describing how brave he was till the end. It might even be accurate to say they fudged the truth a little on how horrible the kill was.

  I was seeing people who murdered Lord Eric console others or share stories about the man. There was only so much a person can see before they want to scream into the void. Luckily no one in my party saw it as unusual that I wanted alone time.

  I had always been an introvert and a loner.

  I didn’t learn the reason for Lord Eric’s murder until the following day when we were waiting for Andy at the entrance to the manor. Dear God, did I hate the smug look on his face as he walked up to us holding Fire-Friend, Lord Eric’s heirloom sword in his hand.

  The blade was covered in orange flames and I could feel the heat coming off them as Andy approached.

  “What are you doing with that?”

  I shouldn’t have spoken. I should have let someone else ask the question who would have used a friendlier tone. But I was just damn tired of the bullcrap which kept piling up. I now knew why Andy did it and it made me sick at my stomach.

  Lord Eric would never have given up that sword. But a grieving Duncan wanting something good to come out of this tragedy would with the right words.

  Andy’s smug smirk turned into a glare to me as he sheathed the sword with a flourish.

  “I had a talk with Duncan, warrior to warrior. I explained how we needed every advantage we could get when we fought the Demon King. And this will be a huge advantage against the monster.”

  Andy raised the sword up for us to scan, now in a red leather scabbard covered in golden flame symbols.

  [Fire-Friend—long sword, UNIQUE item, traits—Blade does 20% more damage when used against Demons, Undead, and Constructs. Blessing of Pyralis causes the blade to erupt in flames and do an additional 10% fire damage.]

  “Whose Pyralis?” Patrick asked, cocking his head to the side.

  “Probably some dead deity. The history books talk all about different deities who passed away centuries ago,” Heather said, showing a rare sign of how she was taught religion by the church.

  “Lord Eric’s death may have been tragic, but with this parting gift we’ll slay the Demon King in his name,” Andy said, tying the scabbard to his belt.

  “Are you an idiot.”

  There was a dead silence as everyone stared at me shocked. Not surprising, I may not have been Andy’s biggest fan, but I never outright insulted the guy before. Mainly because I was too terrified of him.

  But today I didn’t care because today I knew how I was going to deter Andy from doing this ever again.

  Even if it was probably going to get me killed.

  “You really don’t get it do you? You think Duncan gave you that sword because of respect and honor? He gave it to you because he pitied you.”

  Andy's face contorted, all pretense of noble grief vanishing in an instant. His eyes narrowed to slits as his jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. The hand not gripping Fire-Friend's hilt balled into a white-knuckled fist.

  "What did you just say to me?" he hissed, taking a step towards me. He had to have at least twenty more pounds of muscle compared to me and an extra three inches of height. I should be terrified right now, but I wasn’t.

  Because I knew how to hurt him.

  “I can tell you’re very stupid here so I’ll spell it out for you. For the first time ever the Heroes Party allowed someone else to join their group. Someone actually even more experienced than them and who wielded a magical ancient sword.”

  Everyone stared wide eyed at me. Patrick was slowly creeping towards me. I had a feeling the big guy was getting ready to act as a body shield.

  “What did this so called incredible Heroes Party do? They fucked up. They got a noble who no one can argue didn’t pull his own weight killed. They showed the world they couldn’t even fucking handle having someone fight along with them without getting them killed. YOU showed the world you fucked up!”

  Never before had I seen Andy physically flinch from words alone. I had to say it sent a thrill through me. He opened his mouth, his tone not even close as confident as it was twenty seconds ago.

  “I.. you messed up! I ordered you to—”

  I laughed then, a hollow laugh which I think I’ve been keeping inside ever since I realized my so-called comrades murdered Lord Eric. They all were still staring at me. I’m pretty sure blood hungry monsters we fought received less terrifying stares compared to me.

  “You mean the order you gave me to save Lord Eric after you LET FOUR WARGS PASS BY YOU WITHOUT KILLING A SINGLE ONE!? I’m a scout you dip shit, you’re the one with the Strength stat that lets you slice through a body with ease. You were the one who had the bad ass warrior skills.”

  Now I took a step towards him and he quickly took two back. Not realizing he was basically acting terrified of a man who he could take out with one hand behind his back.

  “So your brilliant plan to save Lord Eric was to order a scout with a pea shooter crossbow to save him instead of doing it yourself? God you’re just so… so… pathetic! I mean if you even pulled off killing one warg, he’d probably still be alive!”

  “I had to save Patrick!” screamed Andy, face becoming even redder than before. I snorted and shook my head.

  “Patrick is a fucking boulder who could easily have taken another hit while you saved Lord Eric. Hell, Heather here could probably have healed him up to take two more hits even. Face it Andy, you just suck as a leader and got Lord Eric killed. Even your girlfriend here knows it’s true even though she won’t admit it.”

  A couple of glances went towards Heather who didn’t respond right away. I knew the reason for the pause. Because the whole intentionally killing Lord Eric now made this a lot more complicated for her. Should she let Andy appear incompetent to continue the fa?ade?

  Or will defending Andy bring the truth out?

  “See what I mean? Even she knows it’s true. Face it Andy, Duncan didn’t give you that sword out of some sort of respect. He gave it to you because he realized you sucked so badly as a leader, you needed every advantage he could give you to beat the Demon King.”

  Andy's face drained of color, the furious red replaced by a sickly pallor. The hand gripping Fire-Friend trembled slightly as he stared at me, his mouth opening and closing without sound. The smug confidence that had defined him since I'd known him crumbled visibly, leaving behind something smaller and uncertain.

  "I... that's not..." His voice faltered, trailing into silence.

  The others watched in stunned disbelief as their mighty leader deflated before their eyes. Andy's shoulders hunched forward, his gaze dropping to the ground. He couldn't even meet my eyes, the shame too much for the man.

  “I’m done with this. I’m going inside to pay last respects to Lord Eric. Hopefully this loser gets his shit together before he embarrasses us even more.”

  “Daaammnnn man.”

  “Shut your mouth!” shrieked Heather as she ran to Andy’s side. She tried to hold his arm, but he flinched away. Nick and Patrick stared at me with a little fear and I think respect. Elane was staring at the ground, appearing especially fearful due to the yelling. Jesse was probably the one I should be worried about the most. No anger or shock in her stare.

  Her gaze was assessing me and with good reason, what I did was seriously out of character.

  I walked back onto the manor grounds, heading to a small chapel stationed next to the manor. Lord Eric’s coffin was there, set to be buried in less than a week. I never truly said good-bye and I owed the man at least that much.

  The chapel stood apart from the manor like a somber sentinel, its weathered gray stone reflecting none of the morning light. Unlike the imposing grandeur of Lasair Manor, the chapel embraced a quiet humility—a single spire reaching skyward, crowned with a simple iron sun symbol that had long since darkened with age. Stained glass windows lined its walls, their colors muted beneath a layer of dust and time, depicting scenes from the history of the Divine Light Church.

  I paused at the arched wooden doorway, my hand hesitating on the iron handle. The door creaked open on ancient hinges that seemed to protest my intrusion into this sacred space.

  Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of beeswax candles and incense. Rows of simple wooden pews faced a modest altar where Lord Eric's coffin rested. Unlike the ornate caskets I'd seen at noble funerals in the capital, his was unadorned oak, the wood polished to a soft gleam. A single white cloth emblazoned with the Lasair family crest draped over it, the golden flames seeming to flicker in the candlelight.

  I moved slowly down the center aisle, seeing Duncan kneel in prayer before the coffin with no one else present. I awkwardly joined him, kneeling down and clasping my hands together.

  Well Lord Eric, I gave it my best shot to make sure Andy never does this again.

  If there was one thing Andy despised above all else… it was shame. The shame of appearing incompetent in front of others. The shame of others looking down on him. And I just gave Andy the biggest wallop of shame I could hit him with.

  And since I was on such a confidence high right now, might as well do another stupid thing.

  “Duncan, chances are we’ll never see each other again or speak after this moment so I’m going to tell you two things.”

  I heard the knight next to me shift, glancing over at me.

  “First, you’ve been suckered. Second, you should speak to an elder named Brett at the village Elderwood Hill. Ask him about the scent of mint and Night Warg’s reaction to it.”

  I stood up and turned, not even giving him a chance to speak. I probably already said too much and it was going to bite me in the ass later. But dear God, did it feel good to finally be doing something.