The trio stepped beneath towering canopies that swallowed the sky.
Albion felt alive in a way no kingdom ever had.
Tree-homes carved into ancient trunks.
Vine bridges grown naturally over rivers.
Stone paths softened by moss.
Wind chimes made of bark and bone.
Kael inhaled deeply.
“Feels… lighter here. Like the air isn’t mad at you.”
Eryn adjusted his cracked glasses.
“Because there’s no king breathing down your neck. The entire nation is… decentralized.”
Borgas placed a hand on a tree home.
“Warm. Smells like bread.”
Dael sighed.
“Everything smells like bread to you.”
Yava kept walking, his steps silent on the moss.
“Lesson thirteen,” he said, “strength wears many faces.
Steel conquers. Coin endures. Flavor heals.
But roots—”
He gestured at the forests around them.
“Roots bind. And Albion has very deep roots.”
Renting a Place
Instead of checking into a fancy inn (Dael’s choice) or a cozy, cheap home (Yava’s choice),
they compromised: a humble two-story wooden house near the night market.
Dael dropped his bags.
“This is too small.”
Yava raised a brow.
“It is perfect.”
The trio collapsed onto the wooden floor instantly.
Kael groaned. “Perfect… for dying.”
Eryn rubbed his shoulder. “I think my bones are making new bones.”
Borgas’s stomach growled. “Food?”
Dael rolled his eyes and tossed him a berry tart.
“Don’t eat the plate.”
Albion Night Market
As dusk fell, lanterns made of glowing fungi lit the market.
Merchants yelled in three languages.
Elves sold herbal tonics.
Dwarves hammered armor near stalls.
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Beastfolk offered fresh meat skewers.
The smell of roasted herbs mixed with the cool forest air.
Dael was unimpressed.
Until he turned a corner.
“—FRIED CHICKEN WITH RARE SPICES OF SOLMERE!
— MYSTIC SALTS OF AEGITHRA GRILLED MUTTON!
—BLACK TRUFFLES SOUP OF THE SOUTH SEA!”
Dael froze.
His pupils dilated.
“Yava…”
“Yes?”
“I’m hungry.”
Yava shrugged.
“I cannot stop you.”
Dael even bought:
- four jars of rare dawn-pepper
- smoked frost garlic
- volcanic salt
- a magical barbeque box
The trio stared.
Eryn whispered, “Hypocrite…”
Kael nodded. “Total hypocrisy…”
Borgas clapped. “He bought snacks!”
Yava smirked quietly.
“They are good at upselling,” he noted.
“Lure the customer with rare goods, then sell them something expensive.”
Dael ignored him and hugged his new shopping box.
Kael vs the Dwarf Smith
A dwarf hammered a blade against anvil sparks.
Kael approached, clutching his beloved sword.
“Can you sharpen this?”
The dwarf took one glance…
And burst out laughing.
“This sword?
Lad—one more hit and it’ll shatter like a glass spoon!”
Kael’s face went red.
“You take that back!”
“No!”
“It’s still a good sword!”
“No, lad, it’s sentimental trash!”
Kael’s nostrils flared like an angry boar.
“THIS WAS A GIFT FROM MY MERCENARY BROTHERS!”
“THEN THEY HATED YOU!”
Yava gently pulled Kael back before a diplomatic incident formed.
“Kael. Lesson fourteen.”
He tapped Kael’s chest.
“Tools break. Strength remains. Replace the weapon, not the memory.”
Kael gritted his teeth.
“…Fine.”
But he still hugged the sword.
Dael & Yava Quietly Reminisce
At the rented house’s porch, Yava and Dael watched fireflies drift above the street.
Dael drank tea.
“You think Serath is already moving?”
Yava’s Galaxy Eyes flickered.
“He always moves early. Storms never sleep.”
Dael exhaled.
“We’ve survived worse.”
“True,” Yava said. “But never with students.”
They sat in silence, comfortable but wary.
Council of Roots Convenes
Deep in the capital, inside Crownwood Hall —
an ancient living tree large enough to house a whole village —
representatives gathered in an emergency meeting.
Sylara Greenwood, Voice of the Divine Architect, struck her staff.
GONG.
“Eryndor mobilizes troops,” she declared.
“Storm battalions. Longships. Scouts.”
Chaos erupted.
“War?”
“Serath again?”
“Must we call the Architect?”
Sylara raised a hand; the roots dimmed.
“We intercepted a bounty notice.”
A ranger unfolded a scroll.
“Ten thousand gold for Yava.
Ten thousand for Dael.
And bounties for three unidentified youths.”
Gasps. Panic.
Sylara recited the Architect’s message:
“The Fox walks.
The Flame follows.
Do not provoke the Storm.”
A chill passed.
The hall decided:
- Albion would stay neutral
- but prepare defenses
- and monitor Yava closely
Sylara whispered to the empty hall:
“Why return now… Divine Merchant?”
Closing the Night
Back in the market, Miu watched from a rooftop, hidden in shadow.
She observed:
- Dael buying spices like a starving dragon
- Yava silently bargaining for mysterious artifacts
- Kael arguing with a dwarf
- Eryn taking notes on everything
- Borgas carrying all the bags like a pack mule
Then she froze.
Below her—
Yava turned ever so slightly.
Dael stopped chewing.
Both looked toward her direction.
Not at her.
Just… toward the roof.
Dangerously knowing.
Miu swallowed.
“…Crap.”
End of Chapter 9