We wandered into a quiet clearing in Leafa Forest, morning light filtering gold through the canopy overhead, and settled beneath the wide branches of an old tree to catch our breath.
"What does the quest actually say?" I asked, nodding at the parchment in Nozue's hands.
He unfolded it. "'Help the construction laborers find food for the day. Reward given by the chief of the workers.'"
"So — any food, enough to feed a whole camp?"
"Seems like it." He glanced over as my stomach growled loudly enough to embarrass me. "Speaking of."
I pulled the wrapped breakfasts from my Item Space, and we ate cross-legged in the grass, the forest quiet around us.
"You think that skill could hold something bigger?" Nozue asked between bites. "Like an animal?"
"Description just says non-living. If it's dead, it should fit." I considered it. "Why?"
"What if we hunted something big enough to feed the whole camp — and I cooked it for them?"
I turned the idea over, liking it more the longer I sat with it. "Smart. Let's check with the chief what they actually need first, though."
We finished eating and made our way to a noisy camp near the eastern wall, dozens of laborers hauling stone and lumber under the afternoon sun. A guard let us through to a broad-shouldered man covered in stone dust.
"Chief Balthar," he said, sizing us up. "You're the adventurers? Bit young. What can I do for you?"
"We're here about food for your men," I said. "What do you actually need?"
"Something filling. Real energy for a full day's labor. Large game would do it — supplies from the city have been thin lately."
Nozue stepped in. "We could hunt something in the forest. If we bring it back, would you let me cook it for the camp?"
Balthar's brow lifted, interested now. "Cooking, on top of hunting? Generous offer. Bring down a beast and prepare it properly, and I've no objection. A hot meal might do wonders for morale."
"We'll be back soon," I promised.
The forest closed in cool and quiet around us as we pushed deeper, my Murderous Intent senses alert for anything worth tracking, Nozue scanning the underbrush for signs.
"Anything?" I whispered, drawing the Wrath of God.
"Not yet. Try the northern clearing."
I Blinked up into the high branches of an old oak for a better view, and spotted them almost immediately — a small herd of massive, armor-plated Horned Boars grazing in a sunlit meadow below. I dropped back down beside Nozue and pointed them out.
"What's the plan?" he murmured.
"I create the opening. Can you ice the ground under them?"
He raised both hands, murmuring the incantation, and a slick sheet of ice spread fast across the grass beneath the herd.
"Ready," I said.
He followed it with a Water Wave, flooding the ice further, and the boars' hooves went out from under them one after another, hooves scrabbling for purchase they couldn't find.
I dashed in, then Blinked the last stretch to land beside the largest of them, the runed dagger flashing as it opened a clean line through armored hide that should have turned aside anything less than a Combat Rune. The beast staggered, roared, and went down to a final strike across its neck. The rest of the herd scattered.
Rather than dragging the carcass back, I reached for the void instead. It vanished cleanly into the pocket dimension.
Nozue jogged over, impressed. "That makes hauling a lot easier."
"Let's get back to camp."
By the time we returned, the sun had dropped low and orange over the horizon, the laborers gathered listlessly around unlit fire pits. I walked to the center of the camp and summoned the beast back into being with a flourish, the massive carcass landing with a heavy thud that cut every conversation short.
Balthar's jaw actually dropped. "Where in the world did that come from?"
"Did that kid just pull a two-ton beast out of thin air?" someone murmured, loud enough to carry.
"A skill of mine," I said, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. "Kept it fresh in a dimensional space."
Balthar circled the carcass, studying the clean cuts across its hide. "That's no small feat. How did two boys manage a beast like this unscratched?"
"Teamwork," I said. "I closed the distance with a teleport skill, Nozue iced the ground so it couldn't get its footing."
"Clever," Balthar said, nodding slowly. "Veteran hunting parties struggle against those boars. You've got real instincts, the both of you."
The laborers cheered at that, some of the day's exhaustion visibly lifting off them.
"Now step back," I said, grinning. "My friend's about to cook."
Nozue took over the fire pits, carving and seasoning with herbs he'd gathered along the way, and the smell that rose off the flames drew every tired worker in the camp toward the light. Whatever grim mood had hung over the place earlier dissolved into something closer to celebration.
One of the laborers found me afterward, plate in hand, grinning ear to ear. "This is exactly what we needed. Thank you both."
"Glad to help," I said. "Enjoy it."
Once night had fully settled, Balthar approached us by the firelight, looking considerably more at ease than he had that afternoon.
"You've done well today. The men needed this more than they let on."
"Our pleasure, Chief," I said, with a small bow.
He handed over a rolled parchment and a heavy coin pouch. "Two thousand silver, as promised. And something extra, for the road."
I unrolled the parchment and went still. "This is a World Map." My eyes traced the ink lines, unable to take it all in fast enough. "Nozue — there's Druzka."
He leaned in, tracing the coastline with a finger. "And Harandur, up north — Soradia, across the sea. I've only ever heard those names at the Guild. Never actually seen them laid out like this."
"There's so much out there," I murmured, still tracing continents I'd never known existed until that moment.
Balthar smiled at our reaction. "Should help you navigate unfamiliar ground, when the time comes. You two have a long road ahead of you, I think."
"Thank you, Chief," Nozue said, hefting the coin pouch. "For all of it."
"Come back anytime you're looking for work. You've earned that much trust from me."
We left the camp with a final wave, the World Map catching moonlight as we walked, and I couldn't stop glancing down at it the whole way home — every unmarked corner of it a small, quiet promise of somewhere I hadn't been yet.