Rany deflected my spear again.
And again.
And again.
I adjusted angles. Changed footwork. Increased speed.
He blocked every strike with minimal effort. Sometimes he didn't even block—he simply stepped aside.
After several exchanges, he lowered his weapon.
"You're precise," he said. "Accurate. Your killing intent is clean."
I stayed silent.
"But you lack power."
I frowned.
"With normal opponents, it's enough," Rany continued. "But what if your enemy is built like a brute? Like one of us?"
Bull Charge.
I understood what he meant.
"By luck, you didn't face one yesterday," he said. "But can you guarantee that in the future?"
I tightened my grip.
"Precision is enough," I replied. "One clean strike is all I need."
Rany tilted his head slightly.
"You know about trolls?"
"Yes."
"They have regeneration, don't they?"
"They do."
Rany nodded.
"Then answer this. If your spear doesn't pierce deep enough—if it only cuts the surface—what happens?"
"It heals."
"Exactly." His voice remained calm. "If your strike stops at skin level, your precision means nothing. Will you keep stabbing until you get lucky? Or will you have enough power to break through in one motion?"
I didn't answer.
"Accuracy is good," Rany continued. "But against creatures that endure pain… against enemies that don't fall easily… power decides the outcome."
He stepped back.
"I respect your mentors. They trained you well. But you still lack force."
He turned away, signaling the end of the lesson.
Niapru emerged from the merchants' tent shortly after.
"All merchants agree to the new route," he announced. "Additional pay included."
A quiet relief spread among the escorts.
I was glad.
Maybe we wouldn't be ambushed again.
Maybe I wouldn't have to kill another human so soon.
Niles walked beside me.
"You think changing route avoids danger?" he asked.
"It reduces it."
He shook his head.
"Longer road means more time. More exposure. And we still must pass near the forest. Monsters won't wait politely because merchants chose a detour."
That thought settled heavily.
We packed and moved.
Formation remained the same, but the Vipers were no longer hidden. They rode openly atop the caravans now.
Trust was thinner than before.
Night came.
It was my shift.
Front perimeter.
Bull Charge guarded the rear near the forest line.
I kept my Sensory Field open constantly. Even if my eyes failed, I needed awareness.
Small creatures approached during the night. Nothing serious. I scared some away with arrows. Killed a few that came too close.
But exhaustion crept in.
It was my first full night duty.
The images from the battle returned in fragments.
The man's eyes.
The sound of the spear entering flesh.
My steps faltered once.
Rusty nudged me sharply with his horn.
I splashed water on my face.
Focus.
Stay standing.
Slowly, morning light broke across the horizon.
I was relieved from duty and returned to camp.
I tried to keep my Sensory Field active as I lay down—
Sleep dragged me under before I could resist.
We broke camp quickly when Sam shouted orders.
I washed my face and mounted Rusty.
By midday, something felt wrong.
A disturbance in the air.
Then—
Movement in the sky behind us.
Birds.
At first just a few.
Then more.
A widening cluster.
Viper One shaded his eyes and looked upward.
Niles swore.
"Red Crows."
They weren't individually dangerous.
Red feathers. Yellow beaks. Usually scavengers. Feeding on small monsters and corpses.
But in swarms—
They became hunters.
They attacked in waves, driving prey into panic before tearing it apart.
And they were airborne.
Arrows and magic would be primary weapons.
As an archer, I was prepared.
But a thought struck me—
I needed to learn offensive magic.
If not this trip, then the next.
The swarm grew closer.
I nocked an arrow.
Drew.
Aimed at the leading bird.
And waited.